This Just Happened: A Catpack

I guess this is a new thing we all need to be aware of: Catpacks.

Let's use it in a sentence: I would make fun of catpacks all night and all day, except that I now wanna buy a dogpack for Oliver.

NOT.

Can someone please add this pic to the wikipedia entry for Park Slope...like immediately.

This is Park Slope...WE CARE About Our Trees

If you see a tree that looks cold, knit a sweater for it! It's only right!

From @damiela:

"I was just walking down 16th Street between 7th and 8th Avenue and came across three consecutive trees wearing sweaters, one teal, one mustard, one red. I took a picture of the teal one."

Ok, ppl: we need to take action! These 3 trees already have coats, but that leaves a whole hell of a lot of trees in Park Slope that are currently freezing their fucking asses off.

Perhaps we should get a Kickstarter going to pay for all the yarn?

And The Streets Were Covered With Vomit...

While the Al Di La garbage debate rages on in (almost) S. Slope, FIPS reader Linda has been facing another challenge right here in N. Slope: recurring vomit (or something!) on 6th Ave and St. Marks.

Check it:

"On our way to the 2/3 train early each morning, my husband and I pass the newish and cutest little Cuban restaurant on the corner of 6th Avenue and St Marks Place.   Sadly for them and unfortunately for us, we have frequently maneuvered past a nasty, gelatinous, sludge-ridden puddle of what appears to be vomit on that very corner 2 to 3 times per month.  We've noticed this since moving to Park Slope in August (but who's counting?). 

At first, we were quite disgusted and prudish about the whole thing and slammed our ghettolicious neighborhood and it's mayhap bender-prone inhabitants (often). Then we began to take bets on whether we'd find our sludge on just Mondays only (no). Then we noticed different stain spots spreading across a 3 foot diameter (poor aim, but good for a drunk)  It could never be the poor restaurant's doing.  They're trying to attract customers!  Then (lightbulb!) we thought it might just be some asswipe who lives in the walk-up above the restaurant throwing his or her nasty-ass leftovers out the window rather than dealing with garbage.  What.  The.  Fuck?? Have we have no fucking life?!!  Is this what happens to educated people who move to Park Slope?  We OVER-FUCKING-THINK EVERYTHING!  Good God.  And then we write about it! It's VOMIT.  Step over it and move on. (Pssst....ssshhh...someone..anyone...have you noticed this?  What could it be?  Please.  Before I vomit)."

My guess: BEBE VOMIT! Or maybe a bullemic apartment dweller.

BREAKING: Boys Who Look Like Girls Are Now A New 'Thing'

photo: NYTATTN BREEDERS: if you've got a little boy and he doesn't have long hair and kinda look like a girl, he's probs getting made fun of at school and considered totally not cool. The NYT just thought you should know:

"In certain New York City neighborhoods (Park Slope, TriBeCa, Williamsburg, to name a few), you may have noticed a surge of little boys with long hair, contemporary Little Lord Fauntleroys or mini Mick Jaggers or tiny surfer/skater dudes, depending on the cultural reference of the adult observing them. (Two mothers interviewed for this article independently cited a Florence-Henderson-as-Carol-Brady shag when searching for a way to describe a particular cut sported by little boys they know)."

Here are the names of the little boys cited as examples in the article:

• Kaz
• Merce
• Zane
• Ryder
• Moses

Anyone wanna come over and do some puke shooters with me??

So basically, if your kid has a(n) stupid unusual name, seems like you should just let him embrace his own fate and let his hair grow out to at least ponytail length...it's only right.

(via Jezebel)

Sorry, Wrong Number

In these days of Caller ID, there aren't too many quaint old-fashioned types who actually still answer their home phones to unknown callers. Except my new friend Phil, who per his wife will spend a half hour on any given day answering consumer surveys about satisfaction with Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robbins and/or listening politely to sales pitches for stuff he doesn't need or want.

So I was having coffee at their house when the phone rings and it's Special Agent 585 of New Jersey wanting to talk to Phil about his bounty-hunting training school. Now, I wish I could capture the expression on Phil's face at this point because it was priceless. As it happens, Phil is a British finance geek ("wanker banker" as they say in the trades) and former wannabe liberation theologian--and so yeah: he's DEFINITELY not running an illegal bounty-hunter school.

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