Police in Brooklyn tracked down one of two teen boys said to be responsible for shooting blow darts at random pedestrians in Bath Beach Sunday evening.

EXT. NETHERMEAD MEADOW AT PROSPECT PARK, INSIDE THE GREAT GOOGAMOOGA FESTIVAL — 3:00 p.m.

Candice is a 31-year-old New Yorker. She met a nice lawyer at a bar and agreed to see The Avengers with him. When she arrived for the date, he was wearing a fedora. The date did not go well.

It's happened. Yoga, the preferred practice of the free-spirited and sexually active, has found a way to out-chill itself. Park Slope, Chilltown USA, is offering naked yoga at Naked Space studios.

Like The Awl's Carrie Frye we found ourselves riveted by Reuters writer Chadwick Matlin's live-tweeting of last night's meeting of the Park Slope co-op (sadly not the upcoming meeting on the subject of Israeli food, which promises to be even more enthralling). So riveted we felt a duty — a calling — to share it with our readers. Please enjoy:

"After three years of heated debate," The Wall Street Journal reports, "the Park Slope Food Co-op is at last ready for a vote." The vote is about whether they should vote about whether they should boycott products made in Israel, to protest what boycotters consider "an apartheid system against Palestinians."

Ronald "Ra Diggs" Herron is a very specific breed of rapper. He's an alleged gang leader with the "Murderous Mad Dog" branch of the Bloods, in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn, and in his raps, he's always been rather explicit about his life. He is, he's claimed before, "2 Real for Rap."

Every story published in the New York Times Style section that in any way purports to report on any trend occurring in the borough of Brooklyn is always complete bullshit. Hey, here's one: "In Brooklyn, Committing to a Man Bun."

An eagle-eyed reader snapped a picture of these earrings that are for sale at the Bejeweled store (think a busted version of Claire's) on Manhattan Avenue in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. They are swastikas. There was only one pair left.

Meet Jamie Granato. Lately he's been spending his days in a trailer parked on the side of a road in Greenpoint, peeing into a bottle and dumping it onto the street. His day jobs include running a record label and selling Christmas trees. Animal New York reports,

Saddened over the recent loss of HBO's hipster mystery (mipstery?) Bored To Death? So is Jonathan Ames, the guy who created it. But what's the point in wallowing in self-pity, if you can wallow in self-pity while drunk and surrounded by dozens of sympathetic fans? Wait, did I say dozens? How about hundreds! Thousands! No wait, dozens is probably for the best. Ames hopped on to Twitter tonight to announce that all fans of the series in the area should meet him at the Brooklyn Inn on Wednesday night for a drink on him. And he promised John Hodgman will be there! There is literally no down side here, people. Except the loss of Bored to Death, and the possibility of a fire hazard. But free drink! So... [@JonathanAmes]

At the risk of breaking the internet under the weight of trolling, Occupy Williamsburg now exists. Its first meeting occurred last night at Union Pool, a bar that has a wading pool and a permanent taco truck in its backyard. The Atlantic Wire's Adam Clark Estes reports,

I don't mean to come off as a "sheltered Susan" who's not "street smart" about "how these things work," but I found this story a wee bit more disturbing than would be indicated by the paltry level of media attention it received. How do you become a prostitute in Brooklyn these days? Just by being snatched off the street, at random!

"Brooklyn in general is not a fun experience for me, because I look and act nothing like Zooey Deschanel." This according to the Twitter account of parallel universe First Daughter and MSNBC Chief Mental Fingerpainterist, Meghan McCain. Are you going to take this lying down, America's Dorkalicious Fantasy Girlfriend and/or the planet's Coolest City?

Katie Roiphe—writer, daughter of Anne, white female, upper class, Brooklynite, pooh-poohs date rape, hates Gawker, hates your sex life, you know the one—had a very dramatic experience today. Very dramatic. It was... I don't even... just let me gather my nerves for a moment.

You might want to sit down for this. Are you sitting down? Okay: an officer in the employ of the New York Police Department was convicted today of planting crack cocaine on two innocent people. Not only that—it's apparently only one episode in a "widespread culture of corruption endemic in [NYPD] drug units." I know. I know! My jaw dropped too!

The New York Post—the fascist barrel-scraping newspaper with its finger placed closest to the vibrant pulse of young, "hip" Brooklynites—has unearthed a new, hip trend, which is occurring among hipsters—in Brooklyn, of course. The hip, fashionmongering young people are diving into dumpsters to extract food, completely without care for the inherent wackiness of such a stunt, their eyes focused on only on nutrition—and hipness. Who ever heard of such a thing?

I am so god damn embarrassed for GQ magazine. They went and published the following story in their November (year: 2011) issue: "Brooklyn is the Coolest City on the Planet." Oh. God. I can't even look at you, dude.

Ho ho, will hipster Brooklyn ever stop with its pursuit of retro trends? Retro fashions, retro music... and now, retro discrimination! Women to the back of the bus! This could be the hottest discrimination trend of the season.

Signs have been springing up recently around the Hasidic neighborhoods of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, bearing a Yiddish decree that translates thusly: