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The Ikea of Red Hook is a magical place.

No, the store itself is a big box full of crap that sheep still fall in love with.  It’s the little parkland that they opened up down on the old docks that is so full of magic.

More specifically, these giant metal lounge chairs!

After walking the four miles to Ikea from Downtown Brooklyn, and then through the vomitorium Ikea itself, my legs were up for a break, and as welcome a sight as these lounge chairs were, they were made of metal and sitting in the hot sun.

Metal + Sitting In Sun = Burning Hot!

Despite knowing that the surface would most likely burn me to the touch, girlfriend and I wanted a seats so bad that we had to touch them just to see how hot they were in hopes that we would only receive 2nd degree burns from them if we sat down.

Surprise!!!

The metal that the chairs are made of it MAGIC!

Like, for real Harry Potter magic!

The metal chairs and tables felt as though they were a cool 65 degrees.  Plenty cool enough to not only lounge on, but also actually help cool us off.

PLUS!  The chairs are magically large.  I’m talking two people wide, with room at the end near the feet for a St. Bernard to sleep.

It’s MAGIC!

New neighbors moved into the apartment next door to me this month.  From what I can tell there is a mother, a father, a girl about ten years old, and perhaps a teenage boy or two.

They’ve been extremely quiet as compared to the previous neighbors who had two nonstop crying kids and who argued nonstop.  I appreciate their quiet, a lot!

There’s apparently good reason for this quiet of theirs - they’re stoners!

When they’re not high they’re quiet as can be, but when high or smoking up, they don’t shut up!

At least they don’t get this crappy type of weed either…

They get the real deal delicious weed.  The good stuff like this…

Seriously, from what I’ve smelled so far they have but good connections.

Now I really don’t care what you someone does in their own home, and weed is something that is acceptable in more homes with children than some might want to believe.  I quite honestly don’t care if people smoke up in their own place, however, I do care about when people smoke up and have all of their smoke enter my place.

I walked into my kitchen and it was one giant cloud of bong hit.

Turns out my neighbors enjoy smoking up in their kitchen with their window open at about 11PM.  The only problem being that their kitchen window shares a courtyard with my kitchen and bathroom windows, and I can’t have illegal substances in my system due to workplace drug testing…

So, since they seem to be of the mold of “What I do in my home is my business because it’s my liberty!” - despite it keeping me from my enjoying own liberty - I’ve decided that what I do in my home is my business too!

I’ve decided that when I wake up in the morning at 6:30, I need to the blast screaming metal sounds of Kittie and the like in my kitchen with the window wide open.

I sure hope that the neighbors appreciate people having the right to do whatever they want in their own home!

This is the unassuming storefront of Your Baker, located on 86th Street between 5th Avenue and Gelston Avenue.

On June 26th, 2007 it was the scene of a horrific traffic accident.

Lou Lou Sayeg was apparently trying to make a turn on to the busy 86th Street corridor and accidently pressed hard on the gas instead of the brake.

In doing so Sayeg struck Lance Severwell, sending him about 15 feet up into the air giving him head and shoulder injuries, which is considered lucky for this scene as Severwell survived.

After striking Severwell, Sayeg and her vehicle kept moving and then struck my grandmother’s neighbor, Lyudmila Piyavskaya- killing Piyavskaya instantly - with Sayeg’s vehicle coming to a stop only after smashing into the bakery.

Gruesome!

Okay, first and foremost this post has a really disgusting photo in it, which is why you will need to click the read more thing to actually read it - I’m trying to protect those innocent virgin eyes of yours…

Despite this disgusting photo, I actually have a question about it, so for those of you who are brave enough to see it, just remember that it is seriously disgusting, and if you clicked continue reading YOU wanted to see it.

(continue reading…)

I was down by the Ikea of Red Hook this past weekend and found this cool visual…

A topless male sunbather perched out over the railing, sprawled out on beach chair positioned on an old wall that has halfway fallen into the river.

It looked to be the best place to get your tan on in the city. 

Yesterday evening when I got up out of the subway in Bay Ridge I found this, and it kind of looks like it might be a Banksy…

If you haven’t a clue as to what you’re looking at, that’s two school age boys pledging allegiance to the closed circuit television camera with the incorrect hand to show how wrong the current state of things are.

In any event, at the very least it definitely kind of sort of looks Banksy-esque, don’t you think?

And for you urban explorers out there, this piece of art is on the corner of 93rd Street and 4th Avenue, at the end of the R line in Brooklyn.

And yes, it’s absolutely at the first stop of the Bay Ridge Gore Tour.

Either newspapers don’t have most of their gory articles up online or Google is definitely one odd beast to figure out when it comes to searching for the actual stories of yesteryear.

In any event, this here is a photo of the connection from the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge to the Gowanus.  The lanes to the left of the barricade are for western bound traffic to Manhattan, while the lane to the right is part of the eastern approach to the bridge.

It was right about here that an awful, awful accident took place in 1994, or perhaps 1995.

Here’s what I recall about it…

On the westbound side of traffic right around the spot of the orange cones, a passenger commuter van was moving along bringing a van full of people to their jobs.  

Out of the blue, and in the freakiest of accidents, a car traveling eastbound towards the bridge got into an accident, went airborne, jumped the barrier and landed on top of the commuter van that had been traveling in the opposite direction!

Needless to say, and it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure this one out - multiple people met their fatal demise by way of flying car crashing onto moving commuter van.

I remember the S53 that I was taking to high school that day being EXTREMELY late since it was near impossible for the buses to cross the bridge while the accident scene was being rescued, and then investigated.

These sets of flowers are on the nearest light pole on the shoulder of the westbound lanes, and is the only brief glimpse of the gory accident that Google knows nothing of.

For some odd reason pigeons don’t usually seem to mind my presence and decide to not fly away as I pass; then there was this flock of pigeons that took me as their leader.

I was walking a paved hill from a park.  The pigeons took notice of me walking towards them and all flew down to me some 100 feet away down the hill. 

I thought that that alone was a little odd, and then when I was about near where the flock originally was, I watched the zips of all of these pigeons fly past me only to land a couple of feet away.

They then proceeded to bow down before me - I am apparently and now reluctantly their leader.

While walking around my neighborhood taking photos for the Bay Ridge Gore Tour I stumbled across this here Tabby Guard Cat!

Nobody even dares to get close to Baxter the Tabby Guard Cat! 

And I think that the chipped stoop, aluminum tray water dish, gate and bag of recyclables only adds to the Baxter’s mystique.

Saturday night I was at a bar in Park Slop called The Gate and found this written on the wall of the mens room.

“Best Beer I Had When 8 Babies Were Watching Me”

Indeed the beer selection only gets much better when infants and toddlers are out and about with their soft spotted heads, active tear ducts, and hyper active vocal cords.  Call me crazy, but a cold glass of Bud never tasted so good!

Okay, I think that he is trying to actually be polite in this sign…

He attempted to use the word please, which is spelled “PLES” in Crazy/Xenophobe-land.

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