Post No Bills

Maybe it's because I'm tired from staying up late watching violent prison drama on demand. Maybe it's because I've been living on the Upper East Side too long. Or maybe it's just because I like to complain. Whatever the reason, I'm about to complain.

Now I'm used to the advent of spring in New York. The pigeons start nesting on my balcony. The tree on the corner starts to bloom. And the scaffolding begins to pop up. So I'm used to construction. But we haven't had a building go up in the neighborhood for about four years so I haven't really had to walk past one of those gi-normous construction lots boarded off with wood panels before, and certainly not one that allows advertisment. I mean, that's fine and good for the tourists in Times Square to be subjected too, but the weathly antique collectors?? Je pense que non.

I'm all for capitalism, but first thing in the morning, pre-coffee, pre-egg sandwich, do I really need walk past a half-dozen nearly lifesized posters of Dannii Minogue? I support people riding the wave of their sibling's superior fame and talent (think: Aaron Carter, Janet Jackson, Stephen Baldwin), but does she really think that those few extra I's in her name are going to distract us from the fact that she has less talent in her entire body than her uber-talented sister has in her left ankle? I didn't think so.

Either I'm going to have to walk on the other side of the street from now on or I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands. I think this is a job for 311...