Barracuda - I haven't always left this place alone. On average, the boys are a bit prettier than in other bars. But no one here is complaining. It's rumored that more than 80% of New York City three-ways begin in this bar.

Barrage- This Hell's Kitchen den does little to boost the spirit, that is, no more than Chase or any other haven for boys with Abercromboie joys. Click on the "Barrage" to view a letter from one of our lovely own and decide for yourself if you wouldn't be better off going to Dunkin' Donuts (at least they're worth the trip).

Boiler Room - On the weekends, this spicey, little hotbed is crowded enough for a frotage pit (a la Boston's Ramrod). But, it would seem that propriety forbids in "Bohemia." Anywhore, more than one bartender here has turned my head in a more-than-superficial way. "Hey! Can you turn the heat down?" There's a wonderful jukebox and a pool table for the bar purists.

Boot & Saddle - Mamas, you were warned to not let your babies become cowboys. Now look at them! They're still sweet though, ladies, so don't let your hearts be broken. Funny business is abound in this watering hole from the old west. There's even a place to tie your horse and your boyfriend.

Bridge Bar - Was it here that I saw a borderline mini-fisting? I believe it was. Actually, it was only a finger or two - for honesty's sake. Friendly - but it's hit or miss when it comes to the pick-ups. It's great in the summer with a backyard patio underneath some bridge.

Candle Bar - On my first voyage to this sordid neighborhood bar, the bartender impressed me with certain karate poses. On command, he would demonstrate his best kick - his leg punching through the air, his pants tightening at the crotch… You'll find an odd mix of babies and geriatrics alike. Refreshingly, Candle Bar is a to-the-point pick up spot. Save your poses for the camera - down and dirty reality is a boy's reward in this bastion of lumberjacks and la-di-das.

Cleo's - Clever in its subtleties. This rock & roll-mecca (they have the 'Who' on the jukebox - for the hippies) has been known to attract that familiar lisp of Broadway (aka the stars of the almighty Musical) as well. Waxy van Carmichael has been spotted there sporting his trademark 'diamonds.' Oh, and they're not afraid of making a mean assed drink for you.

The Cock - that's just what they're serving. You'll never leave this place satisfied - but hungry for more. I've personally disgraced myself here (with the help of that bitch Cookie) on many a joyful night. Enough flavor in this place to make chili peppers look bland.

Crowbar - It's no longer there, but once, in its employ, was the most phenomenal bartender who's name, I believe, is Filipe (from France). He once captured my heart and my hopes are for him to be living the best sort of life. Was he hot? Certainly. Was he sweet? Definitely. Was he heaven? I'll never know. Plus, the people in attendance were perfect for a hell-of-a-good time. Bring back LOVE!!!

Cubbyhole - Popular with the ladies, this octopus' garden is beautiful with dingle dangle things trickling from every inch of ceiling space. But, it's very tiny - so don't go putting a rush on them. A chatty clientele makes your stay in Daisy's Locker so pleasurable, so nice.

FAT Cock - Attendees love to stand around looking bored under the 10 foot tall porn screen - "been there, done that" my ass!!! Run-of-the-mill hot go-go boys who's very dimpled asses scream "Duuuuhhhhh!" Smooching strangers on the couches in the back made it a pleasurable stay. A perfect desitnation to bring friends from out of town. Don't bring a date, though, especially if you plan on going home with the one you came with.

Friend's Tavern - I probably would have never found this place if I didn't once upon a time have a friend living upstairs from the joint. But the pleasure is inevitably all mine. The staff was gorgeous and brilliant, and (considering I was broke and paying for drinks with a bag full of quarters!) quite sweet. The absolute next time I find myself in Brooklyn Heights, I'll be sure to check out some of that man candy again.

g - "Gee! But you are a man of few words!" or "Gee! Maybe this person really likes his body. He's been staring in the mirror for an hour!" However you wish to slice it, g is a slice of beef, an occasional dripping of gravy, LOTS of vegetables, and no one can even read the menu.

The Hangar - Here works a bartender-man who once looked like an Appache Chief whence he had his hair longish. However, now he looks like an Appache Chief with a good, clean haircut. It cuts down on the fantasies, but I'm sure it's much more practical for him. If you go, please send my love.

hell - It's cute for its type, but alas, as all the meatpacking district, most here believe that they're in a Sex & The City episode. Good for a haha or two. Good for an occasional piece of eye candy. Getting a drink takes some time and a bit more money than the usual spots. It's not heaven, and in spite of it's name, it certainly isn't hell either.

Pieces - and don't call it Pisces, either. Dyslexia is no laughing matter. A pretty famous femme supreme has been known to do a weekly bit here. Fond memories of the dj booth tickle the corners of my mind. The bartenders are hot! One year, as they were dressed like a topless Kiss (rock and roll, baby), I found them so clean and fit, I begged them to let me eat scrambled eggs off of their bellies.

The Works- With its unassuming water tap in the front window, and it's mostly low-key clientelle, one would never know that this is a haven for viscious assholes. In particular, one patron who supposedly worked there during the day attempted to break my female friend's finger because she had the audacity to sit in his seat (a seat, mind you, NOT a throne). After telling him that he shouldn't make such a big deal out of it, he attacked me and bit my thumb. I, of course, grabbed him by the hair and kneed him in the face. If you go, try to do the same. That was the only fun part of my evening there.

Bars still to be found by me: heavy-metal homo, a pool bar, a clear plastic bar with water and goldfish perhaps, someplace over the rainbow where filthy and clean can find a way to embrace and say "I love you."