Last week, Times writer Touré got all morally conflicted about whether to snitch on his neighbors for running a crack house, and this weekend the Times apologized for running the wrong picture with Touré's story about the coke den, but now a Gawker reader has written in to say everyone is missing the point: living near a crackhouse is actually great fun!

The Times' Touré ultimately decided he had no choice but to rat out the crack house:

I was tacitly aiding and abetting their immoral, illegal and dangerous behavior. What if one of the crackheads attacked my wife as she walked home? What if a kid from the day care center near the crack house found a vial on the sidewalk?

Ha ha, no such moral qualms for our tipster!

I used to live in that brownstone on the left. 129

South Oxford! We called it Oxford Manor, we had a

myspace for it and everything. This was September

06-March 07.

The crack house was right across the

street and I used to love to sit on my stoop with a

martini and watch shit go down
. I would never call

the cops on those folks....they never bothered me.

The only thing that kind of bugged was the "WHOOOOP!"

sound that was constantly coming from that direction.

It became part of our vocabulary (my roommate's and

I). "Who wants to go to dinner?" "WHOOOP!"

One day,

we thought it was all over because we came out of the

house to go to dinner, and the whole street was filled

with undercover cop cars and cops all in front of the

crack house. That must have been after that black guy

snitched. But, soon after, the whooping and the shady

window transactions continued.

t is so crazy to go

on Gawker and see your old apartment. I wonder if the

guy who wrote that article is the same guy who lived

two doors down and had dread locks that were really

long that he wrapped around his neck like a choker.

There weren't really that many other black guys on

that part of the street.