Filed under: Area 51
A couple months ago we had a BIG problem at Chez Shitty. After arriving home from a night of birthday celebrating and bowling we discovered a bed soaked in piss. Of the feline variety. This was hardly conducive to a good night’s sleep but proved to be a source of considerable and much heated debate at the time.
Theories abound as to how this came to pass. Here is mine: ever since Tortilla left us his brother Artemis has taken up the cause of picking on my cat Frances. To use parlance borrowed from my buddy Brian (over at Heeb Magazine) Artemis takes great delight presiding over the cat box in our bedroom like “a Sudanese warlord”. But unlike Sudanese warlords, Artie (as I call him, because being saddled with a female name is probably one of the sources of his churlishness) is not interested in starving Frances or raping her. Rather, he wants to bar access to her cat box. Her solution to this problem is to hold it as long as she can until she can’t. That’s when our bed gets a golden shower the likes of which render our sheets, bedspread and mattress pad unfit for human habitation.
I consider myself to be a principled person. Among the stringent (if contextually flexible) moral code I live by is this statute: I will sleep in no one else’s piss but my own. This has yet to happen, but you know how the Boy Scouts motto goes: be prepared. Unlike myself Mr. Heather was a Boy Scout and to this end he saw fit to purchase what I call a “pee pad”. Not just any pee pad but one with space age technology. A 21st century commodity to redress age-old incontinence.
This item came from none other than the Bedwetting Store. And I was charged with the task of staying home so as sign for the package. Lucky me. Initially I found this to be a bit distressing. Would you want your neighbors to see a parcel addressed to you with “THE BEDWETTING STORE” on the return address.
Long story made short: it didn’t. This is a shame as I was coming around to the idea that being a client of the Bedwetting Store might give me some much-needed street cred. Inasmuch as my more youthful (READ: cool) female brethren here have taken to dressing like Frankenhooker or spinsters my inner cool spotter told me incontinence, surgical stockings and orthopedic shoes may very become the new “cowboy boots with sundress” soon enough. But alas the brains behind the Bedwetting Store were discreet and listed Uresis Associates LLC (or something to that effect) on the package. Damn.
Nonetheless Mr. Heather* has been on their mailing list ever since. Which brings me (finally) to the subject of this post.
Nothing says “Happy Valentine’s Day” like pee-resistent bedding, underwear with electronic piss detectors, shit stain removers or other uresis related “accessories“. Like most deeds most dirty, the perversion lies not in the contents of one’s pants but in the most sordid recesses of one’s own imagination (and fucked up childhood).
If the above is your idea of a good time (and you know who you are) get thee over to the Bedwetting Store. STAT.
*Who has yet to provide feedback regarding his purchase via their Amazon store— for reasons I suspect many of you can well imagine. I’ll probably end up ghost-writing the review for him.
If so, there’s a tall, dark and handsome gent named Kip (Kubush) who would like to make your acquaintance. Per the above flier (from The Garden):
Kip is a 5 year old cat, currently single, looking for a good home with either a nice boy or girl (or both, he doesn’t discriminate). He’s very sweet and loving (who said good men are hard to find?!?), loves to be the center of attention (ok, he’s a boy after all…) and needs to be the only cat in the house (he doesn’t like competition). His owner is very sick and needs to find him a new home as soon as possible. Kip is fixed and healthy and anxiously awaiting your call!
This is one of the cutest animal adoption fliers I have ever seen. Clearly the people in Kip’s life love him very much and want to find him a great new “forever home”. How about yours?
If anyone out there is missing his (or her) Morpheus, the word on the street is he can be found over on Lorimer Street! This amusing bit of Greenpoint goodness comes courtesy of mugsniffer.
Today’s offerings of artistic goodness this upcoming Friday come courtesy of Jason who is not only a New York Shitty reader, but is also a featured artist in both of the following events. Mazel tov!
First up, 717 Studio will beÂ having an opening this Friday, February 13, for Mixtape: Music Spurred By Music & Light. Here’s the 411 as to what this show is about from their press release:
Through the curatorial efforts of Laina Karavani, Graham Slick, and Raquel Lauren, 717 Studio brings you “Mixtape.” Much like a well selected hour -long mix of music, this showing satisfies the desire for everything from the visual to the tactile with sculpture, painting, light, color, and materials from familiar to questionable. We have found the ultimate blend of creativity by contribution of the artists, each arranging aÂ music set to accompany the expressive works.
As you can see the list of artists is pretty extensive —at least enough so to preclude me listing and linking to each of them here. However, if you click here you can will get a fairly comprehensive list of their web sites featuring their work your perusal.
February 13, 2009 7:00 – 10:00 p.m.
717 Manhattan Avenue, #2A
Brooklyn, New York 11222
The very same night the Alphabeta boys will be throwing a pre-Valentine’s Day blow out featuring some of the biggest names in street art out there (like Poster Boy!), a kissing booth and burlesque from the likes of Nasty Canasta (should there be any other kind?) and Clams Casino; and music courtesy of MC Tigger. The suggested donation for this event is $8.00 and things are scheduled to kick off at 7:00 p.m. For more information about this event you can click on the above flier or check out Brooklyn Street Art’s web site.
Be advised there will be an after party next door at CoCo 68 too!
This public service announcement comes courtesy of the Polish-American Pharmacy on Leonard Street. Be sure to use protection this upcoming Valentine’s Day weekend. Not only is this the responsible thing to do but it will prevent you from learning what “Plan C” is nine months later.
From Lorimer Street.
Some of you might remember the above image. I posted it a week ago today in a post entitled “Food For Thought”. Well, it’s one week later and I am pleased to announce this convenient bit of street furniture is not only still there…
but someone has seen fit to appoint it with a heaping helping of Halite…
and the latest edition of the Verizon White Pages. You know, lest you awaken with the utmost desire to reach out and touch someone.
As some of you can probably imagine I, the proprietress of New York Shitty, get some pretty interesting emails on occasion. Some would say this is due to the “Law of Attraction”. I disagree: the Internet in and of itself is a haven for cranks of all stripes. Thankfully the following missive (which I received Saturday night) is not of the cranky variety; it is a business proposition and a damned compelling one at that. Lee writes (in an email entitled Monologue Machines and Shitfone):
I love your photos and writing. I have this software project I’m working on…
It was inspired by your photos, one of which I would like to be the background for the application’s user interface. Would you be down with that? I promise it’ll do your work justice.
After some consideration (and consultation with the Mister) I acquiesced:
Dear Mr. or Ms. (excised):
Before I get to down to business I have to say this is one of the oddest emails I have received to date (and believe you me, I have gotten some real DOOZIES). This is not to suggest I am off-put by your request. I am not. I am strangely touched by it— if for no other reason than to know someone else out there enjoys the manifold ways people in this fine city see fit to desecrate public pay phones.
The previous having been said I am tentatively amenable to you using my image(s). I say “tentative” because here’s what I suggest to/ask of you in return:
1. If you need higher resolution images (which I suspect you might) let me know so I can hunt them down and forward them to you.
2. The Greenpoint monologue machine: if my memory serves me correctly it has accumulated even more detritus (beer bottles, cigarette packs, etc.). I can send you a newer image if you wish.
3. I am given credit for my images.
4. (most importantly) If you make a shit load of money off this software I want stock. This Greenpoint gal is always looking for a golden parachute. Taking photographs of fucked up pay phones— while enjoyable— doesn’t pay for shit. Perhaps some day I can cash ’em out and buy one of those fancy condos they’re building on McGuinness Boulevard.
Let me know— and thanks for your inquiry! It made my day.
Inspired by the prospect of becoming software mogul (and having a rooftop terrace overlooking our very own Shit Tits) I paid the Monologue Machine a visit yesterday. Not only is the owner of the bodega (where this item is located) a big fan of this retro-fitted anti-communication device, but he told me a great many people have stopped by and taken pictures of it. Who knew? Maybe the time for Shitfone has, indeed, come?
Since Valentine’s Day is just around the corner I am going to kick off today’s offerings with a few photographs to help get my fellow north Brooklynites in that lovin’ state of mind. Enjoy!
From Kingsland Avenue.
From Metropolitan Avenue.
From Graham Avenue.
From Newel Street.
From Flushing Avenue.