Isn't there a better way?!!

Tired of using a spoon or fork to get your hummus?
Now you can just squeeze it!
It appears this new idea is being marketing to hot dog vendors on the NYC block closest to our hearts.
You are seeing the future—today!

Giant red ball in New York's most happening parking lot.

Free Bananas on 39(8/9)!!!

get 'em while you can!
they're in season.
unfortunately, no Gros Michel or cavendish types.
don't get greedy

Fuck Popo!!!

It's amazing the wisdom one can find scrawled on the tops of trucks here on 39 (8/9). I mean, at first I kind of liked Popo. But then after that shit he pulled with Jimmy Skids. I gotta agree: Fuck Popo.

My least favorite number is 39

On my first little league baseball team, I was issued a t-shirt with the number 2 on the back.
I thought to myself, "Yeah, that makes sense, 'cause I'm the shit!"

Over the years, the thought of a least favorite number never really occurred to me—until now.
I am not a hater and a negative person, but I cannot deny how much 39 sucks.

Finck Unbound.

After so many months, nay, years, the true splendor of the Finck building emerges from its plywood sheathing for public perusal.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn...

...and I'm stuck on 39(8/9). How I wish that I was in Brooklyn right now.

Only on 39th Street

Tip of the fedora to TC for the inspired fotogrifying. No plastic bags were harmed in the filming of this blog post.

I'm following this guy!

Clown Murder

Unless my schooling has misinformed me, clowns bleed a very bright red looking blood.
Based on that, it appears a clown murder crime scene was being covered up on 39(8/9) last friday.
I waited to see mention in the police blotter, but it is being kept very quiet which worries me.
Mindful of my safety, I decided to wait until i was a safe distance away from NYC in order to post this information.
Any other details are welcome—anonymous or otherwise.

Scrim of filth

Thanks for your constructive criticism Geo, but it's hard to plumb the depths of the human experience when our view is obstructed by this never-ending rain of filth. What wonders are taking place this very second on 39 (8/9)? Only the filth can say.

Fuck you all.

For not writing.

Apartments for Rent

Just like Brooklyn—the bad part

The garbage grows.

In the corners of out lot, the garbage grows. The bagel is gone. The refuse multiplies. The filth of a million broken dreams collects in corners and makes a nest for rats. Behind the little shack where parking fees were paid not long ago, is a place to pee. Some hipsters stole two signs that were screwed to the western wall. Now yellowed plywood takes their place.

Our lot. In life?

Stay Late, Party Down

39(8/9) after hours

Late summer: 39th (8/9)

It's like Keats was writing just for us! Especially the part about the "clammy cells"...

SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease;
For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.

It rained.

The rain,
the constant steady rain came down with the insistence of a high-school Vice Principal.
It hadn't rained, really rained, for weeks, and now this rain, which assaulted the asphalt with the fury of a middleweight's combination, threatened to wash the stink off the block.

No, that's wrong.
Nothing could wash off the accumulated grime, the gum spots as numerous as the stars in heaven, the filth--both human and animal, of the street. The surface might be scoured. But the filth, the grime, the tears, blood and sweat of a thousand broken dreams were permanent as the puke dried to a marble-hardness in the corner of the abandoned parking lot that dominated the landscape.

Back to our roots...

This blog wasn't always about snapping a photo on the infamous block and penning a cheeky caption.

This blog used to be a place where people came up with ideas.
Where people gathered to better mankind and maybe even learn something.

We need to get back to our roots. Upton Sinclair, August Strindberg, and J. D. Salinger.
Al Sharpton, Cesar Chavez, and Clarence Darrow.
Dick Van Dycke, Jay-Z, and Joan Allen.

Let's take that figurative piece of paper and violently crush it into a ball, toss it in the dustbin, and start over.

A Swede grows on 39(8/9)

Chicken Condo Blu still on the market

In another sign of the worsening economic crisis, Aleef has lowered its asking price for Chicken Condo Blu. Chicken Club also available.