Cute Blond Brazilian - m4w
Reply to: pers-309611147@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-05-10, 7:31PM EDT
You were rocking a green and yellow ‘Brasilia’ shirt. You have a red hot body and lovely face to match. I was with someone, but it wasn’t my girlfriend. If you could hear us talking, you may have noticed I was giving her relationship advice! I […]

Holy fucking shit! We forgot all about Joe! The day that I took Ashley on a tour of West Philadelphia before his paper on “The Pitt”, we stopped at Green Line so he could evacuate a bit of diarrhea and order a few rounds of French Roast.
While Ashley was chatting […]

If I had to walk another 50 yards in my heavy trenchcoat and longjohns carrying my 30 pound pack, I would not have made it. Although the promise of hot black joe did not seem to be an antidote to the unseasonable heat and the sun which pummeled the back of my neck, it […]

Satellite Coffeeshop is the exemplar for curbing one’s zeal for breaking off a review within a New York minute of sitting down in a cafe – i.e., spending 20 minutes in an easy chair and scribbling down a few vignettes about the room.
Had I done this, my pen would have gushed forth ink in a […]

When this place was called Mean Bean, it had a powerful set of advantages, not least of which was its position as a foil to the shortcomings of the other cafes in southern Center City; every time we tried to visit the Stellar on Spruce only to find it closed, or when we couldn’t bide […]

I was very pleased when I learned that a new coffee shop was being installed right near my residence. Looking back, I’m not sure how I allowed my expectations to be raised so. Located on the left bank of the Schuylkill, along a major east-west artery leading into University City, Walnut Bridge Coffee House is […]

On what can be described without hyperbole as one of the five bleakest days of my life, I discovered Kaffa Crossing. I had just been released from 12 hours of hellish confinement aboard the Acela from Atlanta to discover that my luggage and bike had not been placed on the train and that I […]

Though I have entered Stellar during each of the four seasons, I always associate it with suffocation and heat. The space is confined and the music is unbearably loud and inappropriate for the notions of leisure with which coffee is typically consumed. Strobe lights and pyrotechnics would be more suited to the atmosphere […]

Even if you plan to never visit White Haven, you can still enjoy a Main Street Coffee Works. Have your aunt or husband or sister-in-law make a phone call or visit the world wide web and order this cafe for your town!
ShareThis

Every two or three months, I emerge from my basement chambre to stretch my legs in a journey across town for a perusal of the WW2 section in Book Trader and an attempt to relive Paris through a falafel at Maoz. Such a self-indulgent exercise is justified by predicating the trip upon a work […]

Located in the basement of Penn’s library, Mark’s Cafe beckons like a seductive footnote. For years I have sought such a marriage—cafe and library—the way the mythologized, Arthurian knight sought the metaphorical Grail. I have long meditated upon the harmony of these fantasied scenes: sipping a dark, earthy brew while scrolling through a reel of […]

My partner and I decide to pass an hour before the start of the latest movie by the guy who directed ‘The Fly’ by taking a coffee at this place, ‘Double Shots’, we noticed during the ride to the theater. We spend 10 minutes by placing two (2) u-locks around the frames of […]

although the desperate neon of rembrandt’s can be seen in the distance, all one-way streets seem to lead away from the cafe, forcing us to continue towards the chaos of the turnabout at the steps of the pma. as we pass an apartment block that has been transplanted from miami, we encounter the first […]

Approaching Mugshots by bike from Center City, one is obliged to trek up ‘Fairmount Hill,’ as my colleague has recently dubbed that mound of residential rock which is capped by the Eastern State Penitentiary. I cycled up there one day late last spring–greeted by the prison’s looming turrets and crenellated crest, my mind began to […]

on my first and last trip to Last Drop, i asked the hipster behind the counter, ‘Why do you charge extra for soymilk?’
he replied, ‘We have to pay for it.’
i pointed out, ‘You have to pay for the cow’s milk and cream with which people supplement their coffee, as well; why don’t you charge extra […]

disturbed by the arrival of a thickly-lensed tweaker, who, before continuing to walk up 43rd street until disappearing over spruce hill, places a gallon of water and a copy of ‘mastering agriculture’, which apparently has been lifted from the library of the university of new mexico, on the table just beneath your perch, you look […]