
And the finale:
Will be on the wall for the next 12 months.
And has the Vulture noted, the mural is dedicated to Dash Snow.
[Top image via Bombin' Magazine]
Taking a closer look at that poster, I'm thinking she almost looks like she's preparing to fellate that bridge. What makes no sense whatsoever, though, is that it's the Manhattan Bridge. Where do they think 200 Water Street is ... Chinatown? DUMBO?
Today, Thursday July 16th, just so happens to be Justine Joli's birthday. And how does a complex beauty like the Sapphic red lust bomb plan on celebrating?
Apparently the lesbian princess of porn has orchestrated an all out bash at NYC's infamous bar Superdive — a reputedly lawless environ where guests can mix their own cocktails behind the bar and the door policy is, well, for lack of a better term, nonexistent.
Amidst this lawless carousing Joli plans to pack in hordes of capital "L" lesbians, art performers, a surprise celebrity guest or two, and famed photographers Ellen Stagg and Siege, along with a host of exotic ingenues she has collected over the last few years living in the city [edit: and maybe even a Fleshbot editrix!]. Ever playing the part of the gracious and demure hostess, Justine invites all of her friends and fans to come join her for a drink amidst the raucous celebration, to order themselves a keg and cheer to her, or to sit down at the Steinway and bang out a song in honor of her special day.
Heroin-addict hobos from around the country are overrunning hipster haven Williamsburg — living in stalled luxury condo projects in the trendy Brooklyn neighborhood.
The newcomers, who call themselves "gutter punks," are stirring outrage among residents and shopkeepers who charge the bums brawl on the sidewalk, shoplift and shoot heroin in trendy cafe bathrooms.
"It's like St. Mark's in the '70s," said Williamsburg activist Philip DePaolo, referring to the notorious East Village hangout. "It's the bad old days all over again. There's crack and heroin all over the neighborhood."
The squatters, from middle-class families, hop freight trains to the city, where they can earn up to $150 a day panhandling in Manhattan. At night, like plenty of other borough commuters, they return to their homes: grubby hideaways inside boarded-up lots that pock the once-booming neighborhood.
"I've got to sleep somewhere, and I might as well do it in Williamsburg," said Stuart, 22, a Florida college dropout.
The admitted alcoholic and heroin user makes $15 an hour panhandling in Union Square, holding a sign that reads "Traveling Broke and Sexy."
"The girls here like it that I'm dirty and I ride trains," he added.
The vagrants - who also call themselves "crusty punks" - swarmed into Williamsburg this spring, drawn by open-minded young people and vacant lots.
"This is not Haight-Ashbury," said Community Board 1 member Evan Thies. "This is a family neighborhood."
One of the plate-glass windows has a big crack running from side to bottom, most of the new paintwork is tagged and defaced, and the paper peeling back from one of the windows shows that construction inside has come to a halt. I have eaten at the Buon Gusto on the upper east side a few times, and found the food tasty and the staff welcoming; not that the East Village or the Lower East Side wants yet another homespun Italian restaurant, but the empty storefront has a very sad look to it.