May 20, 2008 ·
Filed under: Asshole, Crazy People, Greenpoint Magic 

(Or how to go totally fucking insane in twelve easy steps)

Today’s offerings will be excruciating lite because:

  1. I have been housebound for three days and as a consequence I am low on material.
  2. Last night I went absolutely bat shit.

It takes a lot to rattle me. Life in New York Shitty has a way of knocking those sharp edges of intolerance clean off a person. But for those of you out there who wish to drive Miss Heather abso-FUCKING-lutely nuts (and you know who you are), here’s how to do it.

  1. Give Miss Heather a task, in this case waiting for a Fed Ex package to be delivered.
  2. Get a one yard container and place it under Miss Heather’s living room window.
  3. Starting at 9:00 a.m. sharp start flinging metal pipes into said dumpster.
  4. Be sure to make a sport of it. Slamdunks are not only encouraged, but they are mandatory.
  5. Accompany your manly acts of garbage disposal with color commentary such as “I’m the man!” and “$2,000?!? I can get a fucking whore for that kind of money!” If “Kristen” is reading this come on down to Greenpoint. I found you a client!
  6. Repeat items #4 and #5 until 5:30 p.m.
  7. Debt collection agencies: give me a ring. Often. Be sure to ask for “Julie Garcia” despite my repeated assertions that she doesn’t live here.
  8. Fed Ex: be sure to postpone your delivery until the next day. Do not inform me of this. We both know my only purpose in life is to wait for you to show up. It’s not like I have anything better to do anyway.
  9. Scrap metal collectors: once the sun begins to set it is your turn to shine! Please proceed to the dumpster (as mentioned in point #2) and fling its contents onto the sidewalk in the loudest manner possible.
  10. Mister Heather: fire up a documentary about East German Olympic athletes being used as guinea pigs for anabolic steroids. The mere sound of metal crashing onto the ground is not enough to render my efforts at writing futile. It must be accompanied with images of women who look like Dick Butkus.
  11. Dispatcher at 94th Precinct: When someone (in this case, Mr. Heather who fears I am about to go “Prisoner of Second Avenue” on someone’s ass) calls your direct number to complain about noise/suspicious activity, order him/her to call 911. You, being expected actually field a phone call by a lowly tax payer? The sheer fucking nerve.
  12. Make sure the mayhem (from pipes being thrown asunder, television, etc.) lasts for twelve straight hours, giving Miss Heather a headache that won’t quit.

Yup. If you want to get on my nerves this handy outline shows you how! Not only has it been proven effective in clinical studies but it also comes with a 100% money back guarantee. Which given I have provided this information totally free of charge— well, you know.

Miss Heather

Way To Go MGM Demo!

May 18, 2008 ·
Filed under: Asshole, Greenpoint Magic, Williamsburg 

(Or Would That Be MMG Design?) Yes, it would appear that Marie Grasso has earned yet another Stop Work Order in our fine borough!

On May 2, 2008 I wrote:

This is 186 Green Street. Or should that be this was 186 Green Street?* Note the new name for her business: MGM Demolition. This ploy is elegant in its simplicity: instead of addressing her firm’s less than professional conduct, just change the name of the firm and hope no one notices. Brilliant! Anyone care to place bets as to when this site will get hit with its first Stop Work Order?

Miss Heather writes May 18, 2008: if anyone out there bet ten days (after May 2) for 186 Green Street to get a Stop Work Order, you win!!!

And everyone else loses.

Marie Grasso has accrued quite a collection of Stop Work Orders. They do not seem to change her firm’s behavior. She continues to shill her services and developers still see fit to hire her. When will this stop?

Miss Heather

Studio B: Today’s The Big Day!

May 2, 2008 ·
Filed under: Asshole, Greenpoint Magic 

Will Studio B follow through with their rooftop garden grand opening tonight? If what I saw earlier this week (a bunch of men preparing to unload construction materials) is any indication, it is a distinct possibility. I can hardly wait to see how this plays out! Stay tuned.

Miss Heather

Greenpoint Construction Site du Jour: 64 Green Street

April 21, 2008 ·
Filed under: Asshole, Greenpoint Magic 

A reader of New York Shitty (and overall very cool person) used to live in this building. The landlord said he sold the property to a developer (hence why he/she was asked to vacate). Given what I read on ACRIS, I am not so sure. In any case an application was filed with the Department of Buildings to:


It was disapproved.

There are no valid permits whatsoever for “modifying” this property.

But such trivialities didn’t stop these go getters!

Permits? They don’t need any stinking permits!

Cut these guys some slack complainer!

They cordoned off the front gate!

Miss Heather

Commenter Of The Week

April 3, 2008 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Asshole, Bed-Stuy 

Yesterday morning I found following comment awaiting my magical moderating touch in my inbox regarding this post:

Astute observations. I hope you didn’t get your shoes dirty getting into the cab on your way back to Park Slope. I recommend coming back to Bed Stuy at night for a follow-up story. You should probably bring your iPod, camera, laptop, Bianchi Pista, etc just in case you need them.

I have learned that any comments posted after midnight are usually “Twilight Zone” material. The above comment (posted at 1:41 a.m.) was no exception. I got grabbed cup of joe and attempted to decipher it. Here are my conclusions/observations:

  1. I do not live in Park Slope. I live in Greenpoint. Greenpoint is not Park Slope. I live in Greenpoint because it is NOT Park Slope.
  2. I do not own an iPod.
  3. I do not own a laptop.
  4. I had no fuggin’ idea what a Bianchi Pista is…

until my new(est) Internet friend contacted me. After a little Googling I now know a Bianchi Pista is. It is a very expensive bicycle!

When someone sees fit to piss in my morning coffee, I make lemonade. It’s all a matter of perspective. I didn’t get a needlessly angry, ignorant and misguided commenter. Rather, I netted two more items for my gentrification bingo cards!

  1. Self-righteous indignation (from a bona fide artiste)
  2. Designer bicycles

Miss Heather

P.S.: Thanks for the date offer in Bed-Stuy, Zach but I’ll have to pass. I am married.

So It Goes…

March 24, 2008 ·
Filed under: Asshole, Greenpoint Magic 

Xtra Discount Deceased

as Kurt Vonnegut would say.

Greenpoint lost a much-needed houseware store.

Woo Hoo WaMu!

And by all appearances, it would appear a bank is slated to take its place. This will make three banks on one block: CitiBank, Dime Bank and WaMu. Needless to say this achievement will be duly noted on Gentrification Bingo.

Miss Heather

P.S.: Could someone please explain to me why banks have not seen fit to open shop north of Greenpoint Avenue?

Bed-Stuy Construction Site du Jour: 325 Kosciusko Street

February 3, 2008 ·
Filed under: Asshole, Bed-Stuy 

Since it was a beautiful and unseasonably warm day today the Mister and I decided to take a walk. While knocking around Bedford-Stuyvesant we happened upon 325 Kosciusko Street.

325 Kosciusko Street

Being the connoisseur of “luxury accommodations” I am, I simply had to take a closer look.

Dogs at 325 Kosciusko Street

That’s when I learned the canines “guarding” said premises were living in anything but luxe conditions. Both of the above dogs were tethered to the front of the building and allowed (maybe) ten feet slack, enabling them to do little more than stand up or sleep. Although my husband said he saw a water dish, nary a scrap of food was to be found.

I suspect I speak for a number of the people reading this when I say that subjecting animals (be they guard dogs or otherwise) to living conditions such as these is unacceptable. It also begs the follwing question: If this is how the owner of this property (“325-331 Kosciuszko LLC“) sees fit to treat man’s best friend, how— dare I ask— do they treat the workers under their employ? Or tenants?

Think about it.

Miss Heather

P.S.: Be sure to check out the Department of Building’s Building Information System as well. It is quite illuminating. Among other things you’ll learn the architect responsible for these “1-2 family” dwellings (I shit you not, that’s what it says) is also responsible for this turd in Greenpoint.

Cat Call du Jour: 168 Meserole Street

January 9, 2008 ·
Filed under: Asshole 

As I tried to go to sleep Monday night, my husband (in his infinite sensitivity) asked:

So how does it feel to be (excised) years old?

Nothing says “I love you” like reminding your missus that she is eight months older than you on her birthday. Way to go, Mr. Heather!

Thankfully, I made the acquaintance of a few chaps at 168 Meserole Street yesterday who didn’t treat me like an old skag. They voiced their interest in yours truly by whistling at me.

168 Meserole Street

I strongly recommend that any woman who is need of a quick self-esteem boost walk by this building. Trivialities such as basic human dignity mean nothing to these fellas; they’ll howl at you like the sexy beast you really are (underneath those sweat pants)!

Assholes on Meserole

And once they have sated their manly urges they’ll even play a rousing game of peek-a-boo with you.

Miss Heather

Now For Sale At The Thing

January 4, 2008 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Asshole 

Donnie Rumsfeld Candies

Donald Rumsfeld candies.

I am not kidding. We are up to our eyeballs in these fucking tins— Larry da Junkman has been emptying them all morning. I asked if there were any Alberto Gonzales candies, but he said no. Bummer*. I would have liked to have one of those. I’d use it as a candy dish on my coffee table.

It would not serve conventional confections, however. Nope, it would dispense bons bons suitable for an Attorney General of his caliber.

Miss Heather

*I suppose there isn’t any real difference between the two, but in my opinion it takes a raging piece of shit to make John Ashcroft look good.

Ah, The Astral!

January 3, 2008 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Asshole, Greenpoint Magic 

It would appear that a real estate broker has seen fit to give his two cents regarding the “situation” at the Astral to one of my readers/tipsters.

Broker: I am going to have to ask you to stop over posting my ad with yours. I PAY for my ads. I am assuming that I have exchanged emails with you before, as I have spoken with someone (who chose to remain anonymous as well) once before. You do not have all the up to date info I have concerning the building and its dealings. Why don’t you provide me with the same info you have on me, like name, phone #, e mail, and who you work for. Seems only fair. You know who I am.

Tipster reply:

This is pretty up to date (12/23— Ed. note):

I had a fun time last night. No heat, no hot water and to top it off NO ELECTRICITY. Good ‘ole Tommy tried to troubleshoot but couldn’t figure it out. Said the power to the furnace and water boiler was out as well. He called the maintenance crew and they assessed the problem. He then told me that it was Con Ed problem and they would be there in about 45 minutes.

So I sat in my cold and pitch black apartment with one candle and a flashlight, hoping that Con Ed would get everything back on. 1 hour, 2 hours, 3 hours,no power. I decided to go to bed in hopes that things would be back on in the morning. NOPE! I got to work and called Pistilli to complain, stating that I had no utilities all night and that it is illegal to not provide them.

They said to talk to the Super, which I replied, “Have you ever met the Super? He is too busy taking pornographic photos to help out any of the tenants.” They said, “No, he doesn’t do that.”To which I replied, “I have proof on the internet if you’d like to see.” They put me on hold and returned to say that the electrician was on his way. I then asked if they were aware of all the other problems that are apparent in the building, mold, BEDBUGS…

They told me if I had any other complaints to put them in the form of writing and mail them in. MOTHER FUCKERS!! I then got the extension to the leasing agent in order to see if I can get out of my lease and have my security deposit back. I have not yet called, basically because I don’t currently have the money to move out of this shithole. Can someone please organize a class action suit against the Pistilli Brothers. This has gone way too far!

Broker: Read that. Thanks. I don’t intend to see any more postings from you undermining my work. I’ll have Craigslist take care of that.You apparently won’t reveal who are and this is growing tiresome. Apart from you and your third party (copy and paste) revelations, I do sympathize with the tenants having issues. Like I said before, I used to live in the building and didn’t have these problems. I’m beginning to think that you’re an agent from another firm who cannot gain access to this building, so you’re attempting to keep me from doing business there. Happy New Year.

Happy New Year to you, Mister Broker Man! I was a broker once and know the law fairly well.

  1. If this is a rent-stabilized apartment why is the asking rent $1,350? Given the percentage increases outlined by the D.H.C.R., the odds of this apartment commanding a round figure rent-wise are very, very low. Can you say rental overcharge?
  2. All rent-stabilized apartments include heat and hot water in the rent. It’s required by law— this is not “added value”, which is what you are insinuating.
  3. If you know this building so well, why do you show pictures of an “identical apartment”?

Astral Craigslist Ad

Pari Passu:

1. with equal pace, progress or rate; side by side. 2. without partiality; equally; fairly

Contrary to your employer’s name you are being quite deceptive. The fact that you have taken the time to pester a person who (might) jeopardize a $1,350 commission (because you think he/she is a competing broker) only makes you more pathetic. Unless my memory fails me, a broker who knowingly rents a property with latent defects, e.g.; BEDBUGS, lead paint, etc, without proper disclosure can lose his license.

Miss Heather

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