Filthy Weasels
So, so, we weren't at the hearing on the neon the new stadium and theft project. We were at the day job. But this nice lady was there, and it sounded rather fun. Moreover, we could have got there after work, had we known that the thing went on quite late. Bad, faux stadiumblogger! Bad!
But we would like to pipe up briefly on the subject of the Brooklyn Standard fake newspaper. We haven't seen the latest edition, only briefly glimpsed the BUILD guys handing them out at the Grand Army Plaza subway while we were on the way to our morning constitutional.
But we were taking the 2 train with Cutesome to work, and noticed this weird dried gray paste all over the northern entrance to the Bergen Street Station. "What was it?", we asked. "Oh," said Cutesome, "it was all of those free papers they were handing out the other day. They just dumped them down there and the rain turned them to pulp."
Delightful metaphors a go-go...
[UPDATE: 'sup, 'landgrablets. Is Cutesome a girl? Does Markowitz sh*t in his own garden?]
posted by Gringcorp @ 12:19 PM
1 comments
1 Comments:
Aw, I was just lucky - I'd just been to the Brooklyn Bridge Park hearing (mostly 'cause there was a rumor that people were going to come and say that kayaks should be banned & I wanted to see who that was), and that ran 'til 11 too (I ran out of steam at 10:30, who knows who didn't get to speak but the only thing there anybody seemed to want banned was the really enormous condo that had somehow snuck into the project...hm do we see a pattern here?). For that one I'd actually made an effort to get out of the office by 5:30. I figured if the Brooklyn Bridge Park one ran 'til 11, this one was bound to as well.
It was all pretty interesting. I think Markowitz shoulda been required to stay & listen to every single speaker.
Loved the quote from Mr. Stuckey of Forest City Ratner in yesterday's Times article - "I don't think that saying, 'We're concerned about the height of buildings, or shadows or traffic,' necessarily means opposition," Mr. Stuckey said." Way to call a spade a piano, dude.
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