Feel Good Super of the Year: 223 Devoe Street

November 13, 2007 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Williamsburg 

I read this post on Curbed last week and was mystified. The “ostensible” S(t)uperintendent of my apartment building rarely leaves notes in my apartment building. Unless of course he is faced with a visit from the Department of Buildings at the behest of Marty Markowitz and a building full of very angry tenants. In which case his usual apathy turns to sanguine (and illiterate) written apology.

To All Tents

Gawker found the above missive amusing. One year (numerous HOT baths) later I do as well. Though I would have liked getting credit for this photographic memento of my misery.

As of the writing of this post I have heat and hot water— but no intercom. The brain trust who saw fit to install a HVAC exhaust unit in the space above the foyer of my apartment building severed the cables. They did a pretty bad job. I am not an expert on such matters, but when the ceiling gracing the aforementioned foyer collapses due to being deluged with condensation I think it is safe to assume incompetence was at play.

As Strother Martin wisely said in Cool Hand Luke:

What we’ve got here is… failure to communicate.

My apartment building is the benchmark for failed communication. By design. We have no on-site Super. He, his old lady, cousins, aunts and nieces flew the coop a long time ago. They knew a dump when they saw one and left.

As a consequence my fellow tenants and I are refugees on a rent-stabilized life boat floating in a sea of condo-fying land sharks. Our domicile/raft lists in accordance to the caprice of our “Superintendent”. Occasionally one of his hired “help” will endeavor to punch a hole in it— and that’s usually when we call the 311. Or 911. But I digress.

Yesterday afternoon I found an attempt at superintendent/tenant communication that made me feel so good I simply had to pass it along.

223 Devoe Street Appreciates It!

Who is the Super of this building?

More importantly, what are his (or her) salary requirements and is he (or she) willing to move to Greenpoint?

Miss Heather

Blowing Chunks on Bedford Avenue

October 29, 2007 ·
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic, Williamsburg 

Today I am going to feature two examples of north Brooklyn Halloween goodness for all to enjoy. On top of the daily dose Greenpoint Halloween decor, I am going to feature one hailing from our neighbor to the south: Williamsburg. But before I unveil it, I am going to tell the tale of what led to its discovery.

My husband was in one irritating as shit mood Saturday. He went went out for breakfast; they did not serve him properly, so after drinking one cup of coffee he left. I know this because he came by my job and to bitch about it. That was at 11:00 a.m. He asked me what he should do. I told him to eat something. “But we will have lunch out later.” he said. To wit I replied:

EAT SOMETHING! WHEN YOU DON’T YOU GET CRANKY AND ACT LIKE A WHINY BITCH!

Did my husband eat anything? Tomato salad, brie/garlic butter dip, 1/2 a baguette and numerous other foodstuffs I have personally hunted, gathered and processed were awaiting his delectation. Did he eat them? No, he didn’t. So when I arrived home an hour late he was even hungrier and bitchier.

Crankyass Husband: So where do you want to go?
Me: Driggs Pizzeria.
C.H.: (silently grouses)

So off to Driggs Pizzeria we went. Every time I stopped to take pictures hubby bitched. At one point he tried to blame my coming home one hour late for him not eating so as to be prepped my coming home an hour late. I am not making this shit up.

We arrived at Driggs. Despite dining on spicy Sicilian food and ordering a bottle of Chianti hubby was still surly:

Surly Hubby: Why are you wearing a tank top with Aquarius on it? You are not an Aquarius.
Me: Does one need to be an Aquarius in order to wear an Aquarius tank top?
S.H.: I guess not.
Me: I’ll wear what I damned well please. You’re just jealous because you don’t have an Aquarius tank top.
S.H.: I’m not.
Me: You’re just jealous because I look much finer in this tank top than you would.
S.H.: I AM NOT!
Me: I think I’ll get 12 tank tops, one for each sign. When I get up in the morning I will ask myself “Who do I feel like today, perhaps a Leo?” and wear the appropriate tankie.
S.H. Let me know when you’re feeling like a Leo.

This dialog degenerated into a squabble. Grumpy Pants said he wanted to go home. I didn’t and obliged him because I had my keys and “didn’t like his attitude”. In true passive aggressive form, he acquiesced to tagging along. We walked one block and he said:

I need to go home, I don’t feel very good.

Me (thinking this was some bullshit way of saving face): Ok, fine.

I proceeded along Driggs Avenue. I get a call.

Husband: UVA moved to Driggs and North 6*.
Me: Uh, okay. Thanks.

After asking myself why he saw fit to call and tell me this, I went to King’s Pharmacy. Upon exiting, I got another call.

Husband (strangely chirpy): I feel much better now, where are you?
Me: Bedford and North 4th.
Husband: I’ll meet you, I’m at North 7th and Bedford.

When we met I immediately asked:

Why do you feel better?

Husband: I threw up in a trash can on Bedford Avenue.
Me: Why did you throw up?
Husband: I guess I shouldn’t have had wine (with lunch) on an empty stomach.

There is a lesson in the previous tale folks, but it doesn’t end there.

We clipped down North 6th to head home. That’s where we encountered this jack ‘o’ lantern.

Mister Pukehead

HEY LOOK, IT’S YOU!

I enthusiastically exclaimed.

Yeah, I’m a bitch. A bitch who was happy her hubby blew chunks on Bedford Avenue instead of Greenpoint. That would have been really embarrassing.

Miss Heather

*This is wrong. My husband is not very good with street names.

Halloween Photo du Jour: Sleeping Beauty on Manhattan Avenue

October 27, 2007 ·
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic, Williamsburg 

Sleeping Beauty

Those of you who reside on my side of Greenpoint Avenue should know where the above picture taken: World of Flowers. What you may not know is the name of this  slumbering cat is, indeed, Beauty. She’s actually a tuxedo cat, but has decided to showcase her dark side in the spirit of Halloween.

To close on a pumpkin-related note, the current stretch of stanktastic weather has forced the The Brooklyn Kitchen to postpone their pumpkin carving contest until Sunday, October 28 at 2:00 p.m. Pumpkins will be for sale, but you need to bring your own knife. Or I suppose you could probably purchase one such utensil in their store.

The Brooklyn Kitchen
616 Lorimer Street
Brooklyn, New York 11211
(718) 389-2982

I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that pies of the apple and pumpkin variety are promised for your delectation as well. Yum.

Miss Heather

Williamsburg Needs Neuticles!

NEUTICLES!

I came across the above sticker yesterday on Maspeth Avenue west of Olive Street. Amused, I took a photo of it. I had my suspicions as to what “Neuticles” were, so upon arriving home I immediately Googled it. They were exactly what I thought they would be (from neuticles.com):

Over 225,000 caring pet owners Worldwide have selected Neuticles as a safe, practical and inexpensive option when neutering.

Neuticles allowing your pet to retain his natural look, self esteem and aids in the trauma associated with neutering.

I spent an hour perusing this web site. I advise you, dear readers, to do the same. It is a comedy goldmine:

Neuticles are just plain neat!
—Rush Limbaugh

I wonder when Rush saw fit to lavish this praise upon Neuticles? Was it before or after he got caught with that illicit bottle of Viagra? If he had followed his own advice and got himself some Neuticles Rush might not have found himself in the previous predicament. He also would have spared the American people a lot of pain and suffering thinking about his bloated sack of pus hot air having sex.

Believe it or not, the “satisfied customers section” is even better:

I’ve put off neutering “Crooked Joe” for months and when I found out about Neuticles and spoke to them it made me feel better about neutering. Joe not only looks the same now- but dosen’t know he’s missing anything.

He’s a guy and I wanted him to remain looking like one.

And my personal favorite:

Frodo never knew he lost anything and is just a happier little dog since he’s been neutered with Neuticles.

Perhaps the previous pet owner should rename her canine companion Scroto Baggins? Just a thought.

Those of you who are interested in this product should be advised that the (s)experts at Neuticles have a vast assortment of nut bags for you to choose from. The budget conscious ball sack connoisseur can purchase the basic, no frills “Original” model, the more effete testicular snob can spend a little extra and get the “Ultraplus” model with Scargard.

Sizes range from XL, for pets weighing 110-190 pounds (in which case one nut will cost you $189 or you can get a pair for $269) to XS, for pets weighing 3-8 pounds (in which case one nutlet will set you back $59 or a pair can be had for a measly $94). What a bargain!

Cat owners, don’t despair: they have the perfect pair of balls for your pussy. All you need to do is grab that mouse, point and click! All major credit cards are accepted.

In closing, I have to confess that I have developed Neuticle envy while writing this post. Yesterday I walked to Artist & Craftsman Supply to buy some paper mache. Such is the real estate hoax of pimping Greenpoint as being an ‘artistic’ neighborhood: artists may reside here, but there are no longer any stores here to facilitate their (my, our) habit. North Brooklyn:

Be an artist or just look like one!

So off to East Williamsburg I went. And in so doing, I became the unwitting (and unwilling) object of affection for a number of fellows along the way. Hisses, whistles and yelling greeted me as I approached the BQE. As I recounted to a friend of mine later:

…my trek to the art supply store on Metropolitan Avenue and back was a gauntlet of hisses and whistles. One especially creepy guy beckoned for me to come over to his van (!!!) and talk to him. This was on Meeker (by the BQE), which made the situation even creepier. I am fucking 30-something years old. I am NOT going to walk over to some stranger’s van and to talk to him. Much less by the BQE. The previous scenario has “coming to the back of a milk carton near you” written all over it.

Perhaps if I had a pair of Neuticles, the previous chap would have left me alone? I don’t want the “XS” model either. I want ’em SO BIG I’ll need a handtruck to carry them.

Miss Heather

Scapee The Black Cat Has ‘Scaped!

October 22, 2007 ·
Filed under: Area 51, Williamsburg 

It has come to my attention that “Scapee” the cat has, in keeping with her name, escaped.

Scapee’s e’scaped!

I found the above flyer at Rodney Street and South First this weekend. Anyone who has seen Scapee should contact her custodians at the above telephone number. She is sorely missed.

Miss Heather

Bedford Avenue Is…

October 10, 2007 ·
Filed under: Williamsburg 

a lot of things to a lot of people. Some people like it, other people hate it. Regardless of your stand on this subway stop, dear readers, I can state with 100% certainty that we all can agree upon one thing: most people can’t afford it. It would appear that someone who patronizes the North 7 Street and Driggs Avenue entrance of the L train shares this sentiment. As I learned today.

Bedford Avenue Is…

How very true.

Thanks Rebecca11222 for forwarding me this great image!

Miss Heather

Williamsburg’s Three Third Streets

October 8, 2007 ·
Filed under: Williamsburg 

This weekend was a 48 hour crash course in extremes. One minute I am screaming at my husband via cell phone about how Verb has the shittiest customer service on the planet (unless of course you are cool enough to deserve better— and I wasn’t). The next I discover something wonderful and completely unexpected: like what I found at the intersection of Berry and North 6 Street Saturday afternoon.

Third Street

I have read that Bedford Avenue, Berry Street, Wythe Avenue, etc., were once numerically named, e.g.; Fourth Street, Third Street and Second Street respectively. This was the first time I have actually seen physical evidence of it outside of old maps. Here is a section from a map of the Village of Williamsburgh from 1850 showing the old system. I have annotated it with a few contemporary street names to make it easier to get one’s bearings.

Williamsburg Map

Williamsburg once had (for example) three “3rd Streets”: 3rd Street, 3rd Street and South 3rd Street. Not unlike how the television show Newhart had Larry, Darryl and Darryl. Pretty damned confusing if you ask me. This is why I wish to give a big New York Shitty salute to the unsung hero who named Greenpoint’s northernmost streets alphabetically. I can honestly say the Garden Spot is the only place I have never gotten lost.

Miss Heather

Will The Real Belvedere III Please Stand Up?

September 27, 2007 ·
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic, Vomit, Williamsburg 

The beauty of exposing Bridge/Belvedere Realty’s ineptitude is they make it so easy. The downside is I can barely keep up with their quasi-luxury progeny. The good news is they can’t either.

Belvedere ???

If Belvedere III is located on Powers Street, why did I find this?

135 N. 9 Street, DOB

135 North 9th Street is a long way from Powers. The fine folks at Bridge Realty should hire me to do ad copy for their “Hot Locations” in Williamsburg. It is obvious I keep better track of their crap than they do.

Miss Heather

Lamest Sidewalk Sale Ever

September 27, 2007 ·
Filed under: Williamsburg 

Pre-Fall Sale

Anyone who lives in my corner of Brooklyn will tell you Bedford Avenue is sidewalk sale central. Go there on any given Saturday or Sunday and you will find a bounty of used sundries for sale. Some are even worth buying.

Or, in the case of what I found recently, some aren’t. In fact, these wares were not even worth stealing, as you will see.

Sidewalk Sale

My buddy Rachael and I found the above vestiges of a sidewalk sale yesterday on North 11th Street. Being the hungry little scavengers we are, we got our surgical gloves, anti-bacterial baby wipes and dug in.

Please wake me up

We found the above sign very amusing. “What kind of dumbfuck would sleep with a trunk of stuff just lying there?” I said.

Everyone knows the people around here will steal anything, even stuff they don’t need. ESPECIALLY stuff they don’t need.

Rachael said, completing my thought. She does this often.

Once we learned what the trunk contained, however, it all began to make sense.

Trunk with Lysol

Follows is a sampling of what this treasure trove had to offer:

  • One pair of sneakers
  • One pair of women’s dress pumps
  • One pair of women’s pin stripe dress slacks
  • One pair of beige boots
  • One pair of business loafers
  • One can of Lysol

Save the sneakers (and maybe the Lysol), all the contents were components of a corporate casual monkey suit. No wonder the conductor of this sidewalk sale decided to take a nap: no Bedford Avenue goer is going to touch this stuff. It is like offering a vampire a bag of garlic, having a blow-out sale of bacon double cheeseburgers at the local synagogue— or offering a follower of Allah a bag of pork rinds. It is an abomination beyond the pale.

Too bad no one took the Lysol, though. It would save some Northsider a lot of time and money that would otherwise be spent doing laundry*.

Miss Heather

*My first boyfriend used to spray the armpits of his tee shirts with Lysol instead of washing them. Nice guy. Smelled sort of like a high school nurse’s office, though.

Bogart Street Stinky Shit Sign

September 23, 2007 ·
Filed under: Bushwick, Dog Shit Signage, Williamsburg 

Last week I found the following little fella on Bogart just north of Moore Street.

Clean up your shit

I would have missed this splendid sign had I not been busy watching the sidewalk for dog bombs (and there were plenty, believe you me). The visual representation of the stench wafting up from the pile of poo is a nice touch. Then again, what else would we expect from the artists’ haven that is East Williamsburg, Bushwick, East Williamsburg— I give up: here?

Miss Heather

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