East Williamsburg Street Art Du Jour: Ingraham Street Selections

Taken January 12, 2010.

Miss Heather

The OSA Trilogy: Part One

After much ado and two extensions, OSA; Opace Space Alliance North Brooklyn has released their financial statement for 2008. Of particular interest to yours truly is this:

OSA Presents, Inc. (per the New York Department of State Corporation Database) hails from 79 North 11 Street, Brooklyn, New York. The Brooklyn Brewery. Steve Hindy, Proprietor.

Now let’s compare OSA Presents, Inc. with OSA’s mission statement:

For decades the Greenpoint/Williamsburg communities have been severely under served for park space. OSA is dedicated to filling that need. By supplementing the New York City Parks Department’s basic operations with private funds, OSA proposes to initiate a large array of capital projects and community programs.

OSA will boost public awareness of the crucial role parks play in the urban environment, while gaining support from donors and volunteers for restoration and new development projects. Through a formal partnership agreement with the NYC Department of Parks and Recreation, OSA allows the community to have a voice in the management and maintenance of existing parks– and the creation of new parks…

Greenpoint has not fared well under OSA’s oversight. A glorified campsite with wood chips and assorted industrial detritus does not a “park” make, OSA. “Interim” or otherwise.

This sucks.

How can the “community” have a voice when “certain members of the board” of OSAnb elected— without “community” knowledge or feedback— to start an organization whose purpose seems to be perpetuating said org? Why is OSAnb (for all intents and purposes) a government-sponsored “event organizer”? It’s rather Kafka-esque and/or Orwellian when you think about it.

I’ll leave up for you, dear readers, to decide. Here’s Part I.

Miss Heather

New York Shitty Day Starter: Hellbent

From Thames Street.

Miss Heather

East Williamsburg Street Art Du Jour: Agent Provocateur

From Grattan Street.

Miss Heather

New York Shitty Day Starter: Heart

This item (which hails from Montrose Avenue) goes out to not one, not two, but THREE friends of mine who have birthdays this weekend. Happy birthday Mike, Christine and Irene; may you have many more!

Miss Heather

East Williamsburg Photo Du Jour: 333

From Ten Eyck Street.

Miss Heather

New York Shitty Day Ender: Shadowplay

This evening I will conclude today’s truncated postage with the following three lovelies. Enjoy!

Now, if you don’t mind I am off for an evening of birthday merrymaking and hanging out with good friends. I have not done jackshit all day— and you know what? It was damned nice!

See you tomorrow.

Miss Heather

East Williamsburg Photos Du Jour: Critters

Taken January 6, 2010.

Miss Heather

New York Shitty Day Ender: The 11th Commandment

From Montrose Avenue.

Miss Heather

An East Willie PSA: No Mops Down The Toilet, Please!

This takes me back to the first apartment I ever inhabited. One evening, far longer ago than I care to recall, some friends I were celebrating a birthday. My kitchen sink inexplicably backed-up. A bunch of black gooey stuff came up. We panicked. While they did the best they could to stave off deluge of murk I called the landlord.

He arrived and suction-pumped the sink. Up came a couple of popsicle sticks and the remnants of a dead snake. Methinks it was a rattler, but its state of decomposition rendered it too difficult to determine with any certainty. Mine is(and was) an educated guess. The landlord glared at me and admonished me NOT to place such items in his plumbing. Despite my protestations that I was (and still am) a vegetarian and therefore would have no reason to have a snake in my sink— much less a dismembered one at that— he remained unconvinced.

The previous anecdote having been shared— and the horrific grammar and spelling of this missive taken into account— here’s what I want to know:

  1. What the hell are “whipes”?
  2. How does one flush a mop down a toilet?
  3. Why would someone see fit to flush a mop down a toilet?

I guess there’s a first time for everything.

Miss Heather

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