Greenpoint
Lorven Pharmacy
Culture on the Cheap
Greenpoint Represents at Atlantic Antic!
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
I did not go to the Brooklyn Blogade meet-up in Bedford Stuyvesant.
Sometimes you gotta quit blogging and start living. That’s what I did yesterday. My husband, best buddy Rachael and I went to the Atlantic Antic. Mr. Heather wanted to see buses. He saw them. Rachael wanted to consume all manner and variety of artery-clogging meatitude with the Mr. H. She did. What did I get?
A key lime pie beyond compare.
A self-absorbed bitch and her less attractive sycophant (engaged in the all too pervasive discussion about who was fucking who) bumping into me and spilling sangria on my shirt. Thankfully for them, my love of the movie Falling Down overrode my desire to get in their face.
Bad news. Your trust fund just tanked. And you’re
gonna dieforced to live like the rest of us, wearing thatstupid hathair cut. How does it feel?
But enough negativity. Let’s talk Greenpointivity… and Atlantic Antic had it!
The fine fellas from Greenpoint’s very own Wine Cellar Sorbet were in effect. Don’t let the above photo fool you, they were…
busy.
Very, very busy.
Why? Because their product is fucking fantastic! The co-proprietor, Bret, did not recognize me at first (because of my constant hair color-changing, reclusive and overall chameleon-like behavior).
Hi, I’m Heather.
I said.
Bret (crazy busy): ?
Me: Miss Heather of Newyorkshitty.
Bret: I didn’t recognize you. You changed your hair!
High fives were exchanged. Sorbet was consumed and my husband, the Prince Consort of Shit, paid for it. It was delicious.
Click here to learn where you can get your own.
Miss Heather
P.S.: You can check out my Atlantic Antic pix here.
Why God, Why?
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
On Friday, September 28, I wrote (in reference to the new restaurant moving into 999 Manhattan Avenue):
I swear to god if this is another Thai restaurant I will fucking flip out.
Guess what, folks?
This brings the number of Thai restaurants on Manhattan Avenue to FIVE. Why can’t Greenpoint diversify a little and get a Vietnamese, Burmese* or Cambodian restaurant? Why does this tiny (and otherwise innocuous) country tyrannize my neighborhood with its cuisine? What did we ever do to them?
Now if you don’t mind, I’m off to the kitchen to give myself a pre-orbital lobotomy.
With a chop stick.
Miss Heather
*Which is incredibly delicious, by the way. If you’re ever in Manhattan check out Village Mingala in the East Village or Cafe Mingala on the Upper East Side.
Opening Day
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
This morning I arrived at the Newtown Creek Nature Walk at 11:00 a.m. sharp so I could take pictures before the opening ceremonies. It’s an interesting set-up and even though I am not a fan of this kind of Modernist look, I have to admit this park has its moments. My favorite feature (as ridiculous as it may sound) is the walkway leading to it. When you look westward its sloping walls frame the Empire State Building beautifully. Check out my Flickr photo set and see for yourself!
Miss Heather
Greenpoint is the Bomb!
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
What a week! First I was on the Leonard Lopate Show. Then it was Poles without pants. After that I discovered the CRACK PROS. And last— but not least, I finally got a photo of Greenpoint’s very own Jeep-riding Doginator. How can I possibly keep up this kind of momentum? Well, after several long thankless hours I found a tale from Greenpoint’s past that is in keeping with this especially magical week here in the Garden Spot.
See the big thing those police officers are attempting to move? That’s a 500 pound World War II bomb. Where was this bomb located? Under the Pulaski Bridge. Why was it there ? Because Greenpoint is a very special place. From the December 4, 1969 edition of the New York Times, I present to you a cautionary tale of what happens what Greenpointers will do with a couple of (yes, TWO) bombs. Enjoy!
“There used to be another bomb”, he added, “but a man took it and put it in front of his house.”
The above statement is why they’ll have to drag me out of this neighborhood kicking and screaming. God I love Greenpoint!
Miss Heather
Tomorrow’s The Big Day!
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
From an email I received for the Newtown Creek Alliance:
Opening Celebration and Festivities for “Newtown Creek Nature Walkâ€
Saturday, September 29, 2007
11:00 AM – 4:00 PMNEWTOWN CREEK WASTEWATER TREATMENT PLANT
PAIDGE AVENUE & PROVOST STREET
BROOKLYN, NY 11222Shuttle buses are available from the intersection of Greenpoint and Manhattan Avenues (Greenpoint Ave G Stop) from 11am to 3 pm.
Children Activities and Light Refreshments (!) will be Served
Christine Holowacz, Community Liaison
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to check this out!
Miss Heather
NOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
I recently noticed that Toluca La Bella, the inventor of the hot dog torta, has closed. What is taking its place, you ask? Well, here’s what I saw in the window today.
This doesn’t look good, folks. I swear to god if this is another Thai restaurant I will fucking flip out. Enough with the spring rolls, already. I WANT TACOS!
Since the local business community is unable to comprehend that the threshold for Asian food here was surpassed a long, long time ago, I got an idea: why don’t we Greenpointers put together a list of things Greenpoint does not need more of? The entrant with the best submission will get the following prestigious prize.
- Five band aids
- One Tampon
- One lint roller
- One can of Static Guard
- One bottle of Erotica Massage Oil
- One pair of scissors
- One mint condition 45 of Patrick Swayze’s song, Raising Heaven (In Hell Tonight) from soundtrack of the movie Roadhouse.
Submissions can be sent via email to missheather (at) newyorkshitty (dot) com or can be posted via a comment on this post. Good luck folks and I look for to seeing what you dish out!
Miss Heather
Dog Day Afternoon
Filed under: Greenpoint Magic
As a youth I had dreams. They were thoroughly and utterly crushed. I probably had ambition once as well. This too, is gone. But I am not totally without purpose: I have goals. It’s the little milestones (like the following) that shake me out of my existentialist angst and get my fat ass out of bed.
I have seen this dynamic duo twice. Both times I failed to capture them on my camera. Just like a teenage boy unwrapping his first condom, my enthusiasm foiled my efforts: all I got was a blurry mess instead. Not this time. I was ready and I got ’em. Where else? McGuinness Boulevard. One man’s congested, filthy thoroughfare is Miss Heather’s avenue of wish-fulfillment.
The gent driving this Jeep (presumably this canine’s companion*) is a responsible pet owner too! This pampered pooch wears a harness specifically designed to attach to a seatbelt. The Doginator eyewear really rounds out the ensemble. Stylish and safe. Perfect attire for a leisurely drive down Mickey G’s on a sultry Thursday afternoon. I give it two paws up.
Miss Heather
*He seemed a little confused when I told him I loved his dog’s glasses. Immediately thereafter, a chap sitting in front of the McGuinness Auto Parts Store told me he loved my glasses. I thanked him and told him I loved his glasses. It was like Chip and Dale— and Dale. Greenpoint at its very finest— but what else would one expect from the boulevard named McGuinness?
Will The Real Belvedere III Please Stand Up?
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.
If Belvedere III is located on Powers Street, why did I find this?
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
Brace Your Buttplugs, Fellow Greenpointers!
Filed under: Area 51
First it was Starbucks. Then it was Sotheby’s. Now it is…
Ricky’s?!?
Truth be told, this addition to the neighborhood does not upset me. Aside from Zoe’s Beauty Salon & Spa (which is fantastic, by the way— Toni gives great cuts) there are few providers of fun cosmetics and girly stuff here. I suppose some of the Polish stores offer them, but the customer service at such places (for non-Polish people, anyway) is severely lacking. If I wanted to be treated like the human equivalent of a herpes chancre I’d go to the Upper East Side, thank you very much.
In fact, this will be a godsend to all Greenpointers who wish to shop for adult novelty items. As of the writing of this post, the only place offering them here is Just For Fun at 982 Manhattan Avenue. And I refuse to buy such items at a place that has this in the window.
When shopping for something to stick up my ass or gash, I my royal highness heinie demands a certain measure of class. I have standards. They may not be high ones, but they are standards nonetheless.
Per the above sign, Ricky’s will be up and running this December. Just in time for Christmas! Nothing says “Season’s Greetings” or “Happy Hannukah” like a brand-spanking new buttplug.
Miss Heather
Lamest Sidewalk Sale Ever
Filed under: Williamsburg
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.
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.
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.
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.
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