My buddy Lander chased tail all the way to NYC and spotted this upper west side.  Beyond the obvious question of “what the fuck is cal-mex?,” I really feel like “mission style” is more of a raunchy ‘hyper-local’ sex position than brand o’ burrito.  Usually this the point of the blog post where I attempt to define said position, but considering if I was taken hostage for all the state secrets I know and my captors pulled off all my fingers to torture me, I could still count the number of times I’ve had sex in the Mission on one hand, I probably am not the most qualified to do such a thing.  Maybe it’s getting thrown up against the bathroom wall at Farolito by some drunk vegan girl wearing bright yellow lycra tights?  Or maybe doing the “Donald Hump” in the Mission Police Station bathroom while listening to I Want Pussy by Ol’ Dirty Bastard over your crappy iPhone speakers?

Someone fill me in.