In Which We Investigate Boston

 

I went to Boston last week for a short vacation.  I know the last time I left San Francisco I swore I would never leave again, but that was a lie, one I tell every time I venture out of the city limits.  Diane von Austinburg was attending a conference there and I had never been, so I decided to meet up with her and see what the old place had to offer. 

It's pretty.

I had sort of an unexamined bias that had pegged Boston as gray and drab.  Totally untrue and I apologize for my misconception.  It's green and lush and filled with the most charming red brick architecture. Also the food was delicious. 

mrpeenee tucks into some really tasty seafood. 

I stayed at a nice, but snooty hotel, the Fairmont.  It was a great deal more pleased with itself than it actually deserved to be.  In my misguided youth, I worked at a lot of hotels in a variety of roles so I have an insider's idea of how things should work. Considering how much of their marketing bleats about their top-notch service, the Fairmont really could have come across with better. I don't want workers to grovel, but I do expect an expensive and very self-satisfied hotel to have waiters who show up at my table on time and for the hostess not to be wearing scuffies.

The decor leaned heavily towards Edwardian Robber Barons who felt drag queens were just a little too restrained. 

I think the high point was a massage I got because I hadn't been able to sleep and I was physically fried. I tracked down a massage joint not too far from the hotel and a) it was excellent and b) I realized when I rolled up that I had stumbled onto the gay neighborhood.  Apparently I have a homing instinct like a queer pigeon.

Oddly enough, this trip exposed me to an army of well-meaning natives who all referred to San Francisco as either "Frisco" or worse, "San Fran" and California as "Cali". If you are tempted to do either, please do not.  I cannot describe the rage that induces in those of us lucky enough to live here.  Maybe if you feel the urge to blurt out "I love San Fran" just bite down really hard on your tongue lest somebody from Cali does it for you. 

Also I paid extra for access to a lounge at the airport on the way home and it turned out to be very reminiscent of the free breakfasts cheap motels offer.  That is not a good thing. 

You know what is a good thing? Naked guys. 

The meaty charms of Brock Magnus

Also, there were way too many toilets involved, which substituted air dryers for decent paper towels.

My flight on JetBlue had seats which TURNED INTO FLAT BEDS. That is absolutely the only way to travel.  The only thing that could have improved it would've been this boy in the bed with me.

pussylicious

 

The superior buttchops of multi-alias Pavel Novotny, aka Jakub Moltin, Jann, Brad, Jan Dvorak, Max Orloff,  etc., etc.

In Which We Stroll

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In Which We Are Identified

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In Which We Search

 

As I mentioned in last week's post, I continue to hunt for a replacement for my beloved Peet's, RIP.  Peet's, the world's finest cafe, was my daily outing until it closed at the end of January.  Since I'm doing my best to avoid becoming a literal shut-in, I need to find some place to go for my coffee and snack. 

Because I am a big-city boy, there is no shortage of candidates; I have four likely options in a one block radius of my front door.  Tragically, all of them come with at least one drawback.  Directly across the street is the charming Wooden Spoon, but they're actually more of a full full restaurant and not someplace just drop in for a muffin. 

We recommend the Eggs Benedict

At the end of my block, we find a pretentious little joint called Verve.  Every time I have been in there, I feel that I'm being judged and found lacking, and I am simply not cool enough for their aggressively strong coffee.

Thoroughbread's charmingly shabby patio.

Around the corner is the leading contender, Thoroughbread Bakery.  Aside from there their amusing name, they make the best lattes of any of the close places,  and a very tasty turkey sandwich.  Oddly enough, I find their baked goods sort of disappointing.  Still, they're leading the Peet's Replacement Derby. 

mrpeenee taking advantage of the balmy San Francisco weather, for which I pay so very goddamn much, to lounge outside at Epicurious.

Trailing along in last place is the very fancy little grocery, Epicurious.  They have a cafe with outdoor seating, which is very appealing during this warm spell we've been having.  Less appealing is the very thin and sour coffee they serve up.  Dudes, you're a cafe.  Do better. 

Also I need to tip my hat to my favorite, the Cafe du Soliel.  Delicious pastries, especially the cheese Danish, and definitive espresso drinks.  It's just too bad that they are a tiny bit too far away for a daily walk. 

The best thing about my exploration is that it reminds me that I live in an incredibly charming neighborhood in a beautiful city.  I have felt very much like a tourist trying out all these exotic places.  People pay serious money to come to San Francisco and experience what I get to do by just walking down the street.  I try to bear that in mind as I sample my way through an ocean of coffee. 

Naked guys:

This week we will be focusing more on muscle pussy, because that's mostly what I have available.  Quit complaining.

Besides his very superior butt chops, I also admire this lad's hairdo.

So appealing.

I was so struck by him, here's another.

Stop showing off.

Once again, mrpeenee is confronted with smut and focuses on the decorating therein.

Whee.  Also, wee.

How very voluptuous.

Always up for a good time.