I Noshed Too Much Key Lime Pie And Now I’m Feeling Queasy

A preview of the next installment of MTV’s Real World, shot this season on Pier 41 in Red Hook:

The look of the Red Hook apartment feels equally premillennial. It is in a converted old warehouse with a canoe propped up outside. The show introduces cast members in different spots all over Brooklyn — Brooklyn Heights, Coney Island — as if it were a single neighborhood spackled with pizza and Junior’s cheesecake rather than a place of varied neighbors. The fantasy is that the yuppies never invaded, and the $7 million brownstones and $25-a-pound wild salmon don’t exist.

As [Salt Lake City-raised] Chet explains when he lands in the borough, speaking just under the Brooklyn Bridge: “Brooklyn is usually spoken of as more of a place you don’t want to end up.” He is worried he might be shot. Some intervention would have helped him realize that there’s little chance of that outside the River Cafe.

Location Scout: Pier 41.

The Three Words That Best Describe You Are, And I Quote: “Stink. Stank. Stunk.”

Christmas Eve is a great day to bury bad news (e.g., murders up 5 percent from last year) or even if you just want to be a dick:

Developer Joe Sitt showed little holiday spirit today as he infuriated business operators along the fabled boardwalk by having locks clipped and replaced — and their storefronts flooded with “For Rent” signs.

“He’s literally kicking us out Christmas Eve by not even trying to negotiate new leases with us,” said activist Dianna Carlin, who owns Lola Staar Souvenir Boutique on the Boardwalk.

. . .

Sitt owns almost 11 acres of prime beachfront real estate, including fabled Astroland Park and nearly the rest of the entire amusement zone — which he is in the process of trying to sell to the city. Astroland’s lease is up at the end of January, but the other business leases are up at the end of this month.

While some business owners allege Sitt is essentially booting them off the boardwalk by informally offering new leases with jacked up rents he knows they can’t afford, others like Carlin haven’t even received an offer.

Location Scout: Coney Island Amusement Core.

My Mouse Soldiers — They Move

The one thing you want to avoid saying is “we want the attention,” and that could be either because you aren’t worthy of the attention and it looks lame to say you “want” it or because what you have is really actually pretty great and then once you finally get the attention you probably won’t want hundreds of gawkers clogging your street each December. But that said, we should definitely check this out:

Dyker Heights, where elaborate Christmas decorations have become as much a holiday tradition as a trip to Mona Lisa bakery, has a new rival in the borough.

Tired of playing second fiddle, a growing group of Bensonhurst residents are making a run on tinsel in a bid to be crowned the new kings of Christmas.

“We got the nutcrackers, we got the soldiers on the pedestal, the carousel, the Wonder Wheel and the musical Christmas tree,” said 82nd St. resident Debra Schempp, all in one breath. “I got my elves with the reindeers, my mouse soldiers — they move — and I got my nutcrackers and I got those new lights that came out this year that go with music, and the ceramic pieces with the Santa on the sled.

“I mean, we got everything they got in Dyker Heights but none of the attention,” added Schempp, who said several other neighbors on her block have been decorating for more than a decade. “We want the attention.”

See also: Dyker Heights Christmas Lights.

[Thx, 8.]

Craziest Super In Bay Ridge Transitions To Craziest Neighbor In Bay Ridge

The good news is he’s no longer the super. The bad news is he’s still your neighbor:

Richard Martin was his usual ornery self Tuesday when he told the Daily News his new landlord is just canning him — not evicting him.

“I can stay in my home, but I’ve lost my super job,” Martin said. “That means I’m out $150 a month. $150 a month! So yeah, I’m upset.”

. . .

“Have you seen the garbage out front of the building?” he said with a laugh.

“The doorway is a mess. There are big black garbage bags just sitting on top of the cans. He hasn’t done a damn thing since he became super.

“The new super — he’s a little Mexican man — hasn’t even swept the building yet. Not once. The last time it was swept was Nov. 23, and I should know because it was me who swept it.

“I told the new super that I’m giving him two months before he loses his mind and goes crazy over the sloppy tenants,” he said.

One tenant, who refused to give his name because he’s afraid of Martin, said he’s glad about the changing of the guard.

. . .

“Why would I miss Richard Martin …. He was the crankiest super in Brooklyn. Now he has been downgraded to the crankiest neighbor in Brooklyn.”

I Used To Be Carried In The Arms Of Cheerleaders

Richard Martin, the craziest super in Bay Ridge, has been fired:

“I’m losing my job as super of the building,” 72-year-old Martin told my esteemed colleague, Matthew Lysiak. “I’m being fired. It’s because of you and all that coverage – some Russian lady is buying the building and she asked me to leave. That means I’m losing my apartment — and my $150 a week — everything. I’ve done nothing wrong — I told the truth.”

By the “truth,” Martin apparently included signs he posted describing the tenants of 278 91st St. in Bay Ridge as “morons” and “retarded.”

. . .

“Fourteen years, 9-1/2 months,” he said. “The new landlord figured I was too much trouble. You know, Russian people don’t mess around.”