Return of the Shit Crawler
Yesterday I found a most exceptional pile of poop. After several weeks of paltry fecal offerings (diarrhea, mostly), it finally happened. The Garden Spot produced a bowel movement worthy of being called the “Dung of the Day”. This sculptural pile of poo also proved to be a perfect canvas on which to create my entry for Third Ward‘s Art Ate New York competition.
I rushed home to get my supplies. My husband was nowhere to be found. Thinking quickly, I called him on his cell phone.
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!?
I bellowed. “At the Black Rabbit.” he said. I should have known better; when all else fails the Mister can usually be located on a bar stool. “I found the PERFECT pile of shit for my project! HURRY UP AND FINISH YOUR COCKTAIL! I will be down there to get you in ten minutes. We need to act fast!”
Heart racing, I swung by the Black Rabbit and collected my husband. We made double time to the intersection of Noble Street and Manhattan Avenue (where the above merde morsel was located). I heaved an enormous sigh of relief when I discovered it was still there. Not wanting to waste any more time, I got right down to business. Soon enough, I had an audience.
A woman eating a tomato (whose curiosity was piqued by the sight of a blue-haired chick in a kilt crawling around on the sidewalk) approached. When she saw my creation she laughed— as did numerous onlookers. Save this guy.
Though clearly confused, he did nothing whatsoever to stop me. That’s what I love about Greenpoint: people leave you the fuck alone. Which is a good thing given that this, my latest opus, came out so smashingly it would have been a crime to interfere with its creation.
Looks like a stray droid is at large on Noble Street.
Much to the dismay and amusement of the local populace promenading along Manhattan Avenue. People who, amusingly enough, seemed to walk in single file. Perhaps to hide their numbers?