Boston was lovely, considering it was so cold that my testicles ascended into my body on more than one occassion. Luckily I had my boopy around. Hm. I guess you didn't really need to know that.
I window shopped on Newbury Street, until I realized they didn't have sales tax on clothing, then all hell broke loose (on the sale sections, naturally); and sampled the infamous seafood of New England everyone raves about - which means having copious amounts of clam chowder everywhere I went. Just kidding, it was all about oysters. Memorable food stops inlcude B&G Oysters, McCormick & Schmick's, and Tantric, a wonderful Indian restaurant.
The gay scene was non-existant (I was staying near Boston's Chinatown); though I probably should have asked for advice beforehand. A google search and a quick email to a beanie - that's what I'm calling Bostonians - confirmed it.1
And for some reason, there wasn't a single shirtless piece of eye candy playing softball in the park. What happened, Beantown? I guess you dropped the ball on that one.
1 Am I misinformed? Let me know! I'm only a 4-hour-$15-chinatown-bus-ride away!