New York, annoying, but beautiful, in the rain
Art-gazing at the MoMA
(Source: Flickr / zokuga)
Little Italy is on the “brink of extinction”, the NY Post reports:
Rising rents and changing demographics have driven Little Italy to the verge of extinction. Once a teeming neighborhood stretching 50 square blocks, it now barely covers three blocks of Mulberry Street — and even that strip is under threat.
Read the rest of the article.
Photo taken during the San Genarro festival in 2011.
If you want to read stories of true love for New York, read the Reddit’s r/nyc thread titled: New Yorkers of Reddit, what is the most fucked up rental/sublet/roommate story you have?
An excerpt from user PlushGunMusic’s epic story:
I was living in Bushwick, and after Sandy, a lot of Brooklyn’s rats got pushed inland. One night i heard a rustle, something got got on a plastic bag. It was too loud to be a mouse. After investigating my girlfriend and I found large droppings under the sink, so we invested in glue traps. The next night, the rat got into a bag of cadbury eggs left on the table. So I think: great, they like chocolate. I put the eggs on the glue traps hoping it would catch it. The next morning, I woke up to see all of the eggs plucked off. Smart bastard. So instead of placing the glue traps in different parts of the kitchen, I put them all together like one large glue trap valley, and this time it worked. Later that night I heard a squeaking and the rat got all jumbled up in traps, hysterically scampering across the floor. I had to throw another glue trap on top of it, making a bit of a rat-trap sandwich. I knew I had to kill it as reminded by my girlfriend, standing on a chair screaming bloody murder — it was honestly the largest animal I’ve ever had to kill. Rising to the occasion, I crushed it with my foot until the squeaking stopped. You know in movies when the villain suffocates the person in the hospital with a pillow? It was kind of like that. I lifted my foot and took a deep breath — sending a prayer out to the rat gods. There was silence for a moment. An then it started squeaking… again. Because, as I would find out later, rats can RESTART their fucking hearts. So we go through the whole excruciating scene again, with the suffocating with the foot like the villain with the pillow in the hospital until this time I was sure it was dead. I didn’t pray to the rat gods that time. Undead fucker. Criss over. Right? What I didn’t know was that, when you see one rat…it means there are hundreds. Rats are routine based, they have a list of stops per day, and if they put you on their schedule, there is no way getting off of it. So it began that every night, as soon as the sun went down, they came. Like gremlins. The following things actually happened:
- woke rat up after getting home from work, was sleeping in my sweater
- rat jumped out of garbage, as I was discarding soup contents.
- woke rat up after getting home from a show, was sleeping in my bed.
- scratching, lots of scratching everywhere.
- dead rat under kitchen table
- rat staring at me having sex
- rats playing in the walls. loudly.
- two rats hiding out in my kitchen
- rat poop on my bed
It had gotten so bad that I built a wall between the kitchen in my bedroom, I lived in a tiny studio, and there wasn’t so much neutral territory . You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you cede parts of your apartment to rats.
God I wish I had this guide during all these past years of embarrassing breakdowns on random New York streets.
535 5th Ave (btwn 44th & 45th St.), New York, NY 10017Although this location is in the heart of midtown which is usually a criers arch-nemesis, this particular Duane Reade offers a relatively empty second floor! I cried here yesterday during my lunch break in the vitamins aisle and experienced NO problems at all! It was a wonderful 10-15 minute cry that is so rare to come by these days. Come cry here quick before the word gets out! Highly recommended!