How do you get to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum?

How indeed. We had to ask a J.P. Licks employee - at the largest J.P. Licks in history! - who told us that, above all, we should look for a garden. There seemed to be a garden at every turn, though Krista would disagree. Apparently a tree with poison ivy growing around it doesn't qualify. Our impromptu sightseeing tour included Mass Art, Wentworth, and Harvard School of Public Health: it was comforting to know that if we didn't make it to the Gardner, we could go on several free tours and get shiny folders. I was astounded that we arrived at the museum safe and sound, though I did inappropriately touch expensive, 15th century fabrics. Oh well.

Allston on a rainy day is like a prostitute with no makeup on. Especially the always-glamorous Boston Cleansing (hey, you always get catcalled there, so that's nice) which is apparently "closed indefinitely," though the sign remains. That big yellow sign ferments in the rain, and it seeps into your skin as you cross the street from Express Laundry to Vegan corner - there's a specific name for that intersection that seems unnecessary - and the aroma of fake cheese and gluten. Allston in the rain is like a shaved, wet cat, and many other specific similes.

"Your whole street's covered in dumpsters!" Liz says. (This just happened)

But parties in Allston in the rain are moist and hot and crazy, and isn't that what everybody wants? Well, everycollegebody, anyway.

On to MST3K courtesy of Sam Adams summer variety pack!