Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Dung of the Day (of Indeterminate Mammalian Origin)
I found this pile of puddin’ poo at 1075 Manhattan Avenue last night. My husband and I were taking a couple of friends to the Acapulco Restaurant for dinner. They kept walking as I took the above photo, so I had to run to catch up with them. It would be a crime to let such an exquisite specimen go undocumented. In fact, I was so proud of this find that I showed it to them whilest we were dining. (Probably not the wisest thing to do given that we were in a Mexican restaurant. Oh well.)
A connubial debate followed as to whether this feces was of canine or human origin:
- My husband asserted that if said feces was located near a corner or some other means of support, it was human. It wasn’t— and therefore, it must be canine.
- I countered that people drop trou here at the drop of a hat. They have neither the time nor the wits about them to be so discriminating when it comes to selecting a venue for public defecation. What’s more, this pile of shit was located rather close to the Greenpoint Hotel.
Then again, who really knows?
Miss Heather
Mary D’s Housing for Seniors
I have often wondered why there is so much dog shit on Dupont Street. Of all the blocks in my part of the ‘hood, Dupont is by and far the worst when it comes to crap. It’s fucking gross.
My initial theory was that dog owners were letting their canines crap with total abandon behind the old folks home (Mary D’s). And after last week’s fact-finding mission, I determined this to be true. What is surprising is WHO the statistics suggest as being the responsible for this doggie doo death gauntlet. Read on and draw your own conclusions.
The area I covered was a small one: Clay, Dupont, Eagle and Freeman Streets between Manhattan Avenue and Franklin Street. How much shit did I find? A LOT.
SEVENTY PILES OF SHIT IN FOUR BLOCKS.
Note: These are conservative figures. I often encountered mounds of dog shit and was forced to estimate how many separate bowel movements were present.
The above pie chart illustrates how much dog shit was found on/adjacent to Mary D’s versus the rest of the block. What is especially telling was the amount of shit located immediately outside and DIRECTLY ACROSS THE STREET from the rear exit of this facility (at 80 Dupont Street).
God I hope it was dog shit I saw back there; what kind of place are these people running?!? Maybe this is a new part of President Bush’s Medicare Plan? Hell if I know— and I don’t think I want to find out.
Elder abuse concerns aside, here’s a brand-spanking new “Crap Map” for your entertainment.
Enjoy!
Miss Heather
Say Hello to my L’il Friend!
This afternoon I came across an especially jaunty turd on my walk to the Franklin Corner Store (to procure refreshments). Being a pretty breezy and chilly day, I immediately went home and got some head protection for my new little friend.
I give this creation (which can be viewed at 125 Green Street) two enthusiastic thumbs up.
Miss Heather
Brown Suede
Today’s “Dung of the Day” comes from 96 Dupont Street. At a distance the bottle of deodorant looked like an “adult novelty item”. Maybe it was employed for that purpose, who knows? I don’t put anything past anyone anymore.
As I was taking the above photo a local meathead* (repairing his pick-up truck) shouted “You think that (picture) will end up hanging in a museum?”
My answer: I hope so.
And I do. If for no other reason because the dean of my graduate school would be forced to publicly kiss my butt (in the hopes of getting a little alumni cash/publicity). He ran the fine arts department like it was his own little banana republic: summoning and cancelling “mandatory” meetings with no regard for the schedules of his charges peons.
After he did this one too many times, I brought a puppet to an inter-departmental meeting and fielded all my questions/comments to him through her. Talk to the hand (or in this case, the puppet). And he did: in front of 40+ people, including a couple professors.
I still have “Rat Girl“. She has a few (more) things she’d like to say to him.
Miss Heather
*This is not meant as an insult. I like meatheads. I find their prosaic, yet razor-sharp, take on things refreshing.
Dung of the Day
Today’s “Dung of the Day” hails from 1031 Manhattan Avenue. Although it is not my general practice to give turds ‘titles’, I am going to make an exception for this extraordinary fecal find. Henceforth this melange of shit, toilet paper and a solitary toy soldier (all conveniently located near the bus stop for the B61 and B43!) is “Stay the Course”.
Miss Heather
Best Job Interview Ever
Filed under: 11211, Area 51, Dog Shit, Dung of the Day, Williamsburg, Williamsburg Brooklyn
Although I take pride and derive much satisfaction from being the proprietress of New York Shitty, it does have its complications. My desire to expand my Shitty Empire (and pay off student loan debt) has necessitated that I seek permanent part-time employment. I suspect I speak for a number of people when I say that my accomplishments (thus far) merit praise and prove my worthiness to be the Mayor of this fine city (or at least hold a seat on Community Board 1). However, The Dog Shit Queen of Greenpoint (with all the responsibilities, powers and privileges vested therein) is not exactly the kind of position one can cite on a resume— or explain to some HR hack.
Or is it?
Recently I came across a “Help Wanted” advertisement on Craigslist for a dog walker. Follows is a condensed version of the job requirements (my comments in boldface):
I want to hear from you if:
# You are a 100% reliable person. No “no shows” or last minute “call ins.”
# You must love animals – particularly the canines. Experience with dog walking, ASPCA, shelters is preferred.
# This is an outside job that can be dirty sometimes. If you are resilient to rain, wind,snow,(soon) sun, cold, poop and have a keen eye for chicken bones read on…if not please don’t apply. WAIT— I have a keen eye for chicken bones!
# You must have a cellphone, digi camera or cellcam and a computer with internet
After some thought I finally concluded that this woman probably wants photographic evidence that “Fluffy” or “Fido” did a deuce. God, what is this world coming to???
# You must be a US citizen
Illegals do just about every other crappy job (no pun intended) in this country, why are you being so choosy?
# You will submit to a criminal background check
# I prefer you live in Williamsburg, Greenpoint or Bushwick maybe Clinton Hill. This is a part time job so a long commute makes no sense.
# I need you to be available M-F 11:30 am to 4:00 pm. There may be some weekend work too but I will only hire someone who is available during weekdays.Please copy, paste and answer all of the following questions into your response. The Subject line must read “Part Time Dog Walker” – if it says anything else it will not be opened. Um, this is a dog walker ad, it’s not the fucking SAT for chrissakes!
Subject Line : Part Time Dog Walker
(Just in case you didn’t get it the first time.)# 1.Your full name:
# 2 Your cell phone#:
# 3.Tell me why you want to be a dog walker?
Let’s cut the crap: no one wants to be a dog walker. It has been my observation that people WORK so they have a roof over their head and food in their stomachs.
# 4.What experience with animal care, if any, do you have?
Five cats and one husband. A good friend of mine asks me to walk her dog when her regular dog walker calls out sick; she says I am the only other person her dog will poop for. My presence encourages defecation. I have the face that launched a thousand shits. I’ve even had a pigeon crap on my head once. That sucked.
# 5.Will you submit to a background check?
Sure, why not? I’ve always had the presence of mind NOT to get caught.
# 6.Are you always available M-F 11:30am to 4pm?
# 7.What neighborhood do you live in? What train line do you live near?
# 8.Do you own a bicycle? A camera?
I do not own a bicycle but I DO own a digital camera. In fact, I had to upgrade my Flick’r account because I had over 200 pictures of dog shit and ran out of space. Does this count?
# 9.What is the highest level of education you have completed? I have a Master’s Degree in Fine Art from Parsons School of Design and graduated magna cum laude with a BFA in Fine Art and a minor in History. Both of the previous degrees are suicide pacts with poverty. However, I am ready, willing and able to converse with “Fido” about art theory, Lacan, Heidegger, Spanish History, Latin American History and (for your leftist chicano canine clientele) Liberation Theology.
# 10.Are you planning any vacations in the next 3 months? WTF? If I go on a trip will I get paged to pick up some errant piece of crap on Ainslie Street or something?
# 11.This is a part time job (7 to 12 hrs week). Are you employed elsewhere? What do you do?
# 12.Last one! Tell me what hobbies/interests you have, what you’re about.
*A-hem*
* Location: williamsburg
* Compensation: $100 to $150 per week. 7 hours to 12 hours week. Approx.
After doing the math, I deduced that this job pays between $12.00 and $14.00 an hour. Most of the part-time Administrative jobs I have found (that am qualified to hold) pay less. MUCH LESS. Suffice it to say that I find it oh so refreshing to see that unpaid interns (READ: slave labor) have become such an integral part of the administrative workforce.
Truth be told, ALL work entails shoveling shit, be it literally or figuratively. Picking up dog shit appears to be the more lucrative use of my time. This is a pretty damning indictment of our society (and the values it espouses) if you ask me. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised given our nation’s increasing reliance on a service-based job growth: scooping up designer dog dung cannot be “outsourced”. Yet, anyway.
I did not reply to this ad. Although I am OK with dog shit, own a digital camera, have Internet access and a “keen eye for chicken bones”, I know damned well the first time a dog under my care wretches up/shits out parasites I will lose both my composure and my lunch! Living in Greenpoint (and NYC in general) has given me a strong stomach. Shit (canine, feline or hominid), puke, stink, noise, public masturbation, the G train, crazy homeless people and self-important rich people, while annoying, are manageable to me. Roundworms, tape worms, pin worms, etc., freak my ass out. These things are, to use Orwellian parlance, my “Room 101”.
I did, however, send a resume and cover letter regarding Help Wanted ad posted by a local publication seeking an Administrative Assistant. Not only was I qualified for this position, but I felt my being The Dog Shit Queen of Greenpoint made me one cut above my fellow applicants. It did: during the interview I had for this job last Friday.
After a slow and fitful start, my potential employer posited the following question to me:
Give me an example from your personal life that demonstrates your ability to organize.
Here’s what I told him:
As you may or may not be aware, I have a web site: New York Shitty. This web site is (mostly) about the dog shit problem in Greenpoint. I frequently take walks, though I prefer to call them “fact finding missions”, to ascertain the amount of unattended dog shit in any given area. Sometimes I cover a designated area (when I get a tip), other times I merely cover an area I happen knocking around in on that given day. I take photos of the dog shit I find, note the address where it is located and use this data to generate Crap Maps.
One time I inspected far north Greenpoint. This is area is notorious for having a lot of dog shit. As it happens, there is a retirement home that straddles Eagle and Dupont Street and I discovered that dog owners are pretty fond of taking their dogs behind this establishment and letting them shit all over the place. There must have been at least twenty pieces of dog crap there. This required particularly rigorous record-keeping on my part. Sometimes I’d make a written annotation about a noteworthy piece of poop, other times I made qualitative observations about a one piece of shit or another, etc. When you upload fifty plus pieces of pictures of poop on any given day (like I do), you need to ensure that each piece of shit corresponds to the correct address. Otherwise, the “Crap Map” will be inaccurate.
I prefer to take the time to keep exhaustive records so I can dedicate the rest of my time to constructing “Crap Maps” or doing fun stuff like making customized shit-shaped bullets for my “Poopipoint” presentations.
A lengthy and enjoyable scatological/philosophical discussion followed. Some of the topics covered were: hobo porn (“smegmen”), garbage (“offal”), the night I ended up hanging out at the Briarwood Police Station because a dude was jerking off in front of me on the N train, and of course, how I may (or may not) fit into this organizational structure. I must have been there for at least an hour.
I sent a follow-up email the next day. This email had a jpg of today’s “Dung of the Day” attached to it. Part of it read as follows:
…I thought you might enjoy the dog shit assemblage I found at a parking lot after we met. As always, I took a photo and noted the location: across the street from 212 Grand Street. After doing a little research (Google Maps and the Department of Buildings BIS database are excellent resources when a piece of property is not clearly demarcated) I deduced it that this turd was located at 215 Grand Street. I may be demented but I am detail-oriented…
I have yet to hear back. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Then again, the satisfaction I got from talking about dog shit in a job interview is a reward unto itself. And you can’t put a price on that.
Miss Heather
Sullen Mutters of Revolt in Prospect Heights…
Filed under: Dog Shit
Thanks to Gawker, the “Dog Poop Brigade” has been brought to my attention. It looks like I need to make a fact-finding mission to Prospect Heights and FAST. In the meantime, I would love to see some pictures of the “big brown skidmark” on St. John’s Place— for research purposes, mind you.
Miss Heather
UPDATE 1/11/07, Early pm: I have posted a solicitation for dog shit pictures on the Brooklynian. I have yet to receive any feedback, but the day is still young. I’ll even generate a “Crap Map” if they give me enough material.
Also— I’d like to give a big shout of thanks to The Gowanus Lounge for publicizing my desire to have photographic evidence of the alleged “skidmark” on St. John’s Place.
Dung of the Day: Guttman Style
Today’s (admittedly FOUL) “Dung of the Day” hails near the recently-deceased Greenpoint Terminal Market. Be sure to click on the photo if you want to behold all the diarrific details. Enjoy!
Miss Heather
Readywrap Deluxe
Or: Miss Heather’s Birthday Comes a Day Early
Shortly after completing the previous post I received a call from my good buddy Rachael. This surprised me a bit because my birthday is tomorrow, not today. She told she was walking down Diamond Street on the way to work and had found something I must have. I asked her what it was— and honestly I thought what she told me next sounded too good to be true.
It wasn’t.
The man in this photo bears an uncanny resemblance to my husband, save the solitary (but important) fact that I know of no time when my husband has been duct-taped to a chair. Maybe this transpired when I wasn’t around, who knows? Even the khakis and undershirt are right on the mark. In fact, the only thing that is amiss are the empty White Castle boxes in the background. My husband eats all manner and variety of repulsive foodstuffs but even he thinks White Castle is disgusting.
I pointed out the likeness to my husband. He didn’t seem to derive the same amount of amusement from it that I did (and still do). Maybe this photo dredges up dark memories from his past? Regardless, I am going to email this photo to his mother just to see what happens. Hell, I’ll send it to my mother as well just for shits and giggles.
After getting these photos from my friend, I asked her where she found them. She said she found them on Diamond Street in a box with a pair of walkie talkies. When I went there I did find such a box —but what cracked my ass up was the label on it. It read “Readywrap Deluxe“. Very appropriate.
At this location I also found one of the most disgusting piles of bum shit I have ever seen. To my recollection, only this mountain of effluvia would (could?) qualify as being worse. On the other hand, the bits of apple peel in today’s specimen lend a substantial measure “added-value” to it… Hmmm…
Miss Heather
P.S.: This photo (and the others she gave me) were found across the street from a film studio. I suspect hope that’s where they came from.
UPDATE: I sent an email to my mother, my father and my husband’s parents with said “gimp” photo attached. It went as follows:
Looks like Sam is into some really weird stuff. I s’pose the wife is always the last to know…
H
I got two emails back from my mother. The first one was blank. I suspect she freaked out and hit the “send” button before writing anything. The second email, however, said this:
Say what???
I just about pissed my pants laughing. Thankfully my husband thought I was laughing at the television, which was belching “The Lawrence Welk Show” into our living room at the time. My mother is an intelligent person and I love her. The only reason she would fall for this ruse is:
- The man in the photo DOES look like my husband and
- I have dated enough degenerates and freaks that anything goes.
As it happened, my husband called his parents tonight and I spoke to to his mother. I told her to check her email, as she would find something “very interesting”. She told me she wouldn’t have email access ’til Tuesday, but that she would check it ASAP.
To be continued…
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