Culture on the Cheap
Dirty Deeds Insured Dirt Cheap
Last week I had the pleasure of seeing an acquaintance of mine. Newbie Greenpointer, good reporter and all around nice chap, Matt. We talked about local happenings. The recent murder was our primary topic. Some time during our discussion I told him about the “Venus Matrimonial Agency” that used to be on Greenpoint Avenue. A law office has since taken its place.
They’ll help you with the green card lottery.
In fact, they’ll help you with a lot of things. For a fee.
Ironically enough, the list only goes up to 53 points (insert crass Polish joke here— it’s okay, seriously, I am of some Polish derivation). I suppose the other 48 points pertain to the number of ccs the above chick had injected into her boobs and lips. Lets see what the remaining 53 points are, shall we?
Um, let’s see:
#23: My knee-jerk reaction is there is no one worthy of being blackmailed here, but reality says otherwise. Greenpoint is a David Lynchian world. Don’t go to Franklin.
#29: Is not jury duty required of American citizens? I heeded the call and got rejected. Mr. Heather admitted knowing Ron Kuby and was in like Flynn. So it goes, as Kurt Vonnegut would say.
#30: No one golfs in Greenpoint.
#36: If you’re hit by a bottle at a baseball game it’s your own damned fault. You clearly rooted for the wrong team.
#40: I’ve seen roosters, chickens and a goat. The only creatures I have heard of that wreck peoples’ gardens hereabouts are bipeds in four wheelers, e.g.; developers.