All the people I have known from Boston and not one of them bragged on this very, quaint and historic city. Wow! I’m staying at the Omni Parkerhouse Hotel where Boston cream pie was invented. Not the cream pie you are used to seeing from me, but the little round ones with the cake as fluffy as a cloud and the cream just as light but it lingers on your tongue just before you get forkful of chocolate that will roll your eyes back. Ummmmmm! I’ll take pictures.
The best thing that has happened so far was last night when I ordered room service, and I insisted that the girl taking the order deliver my tray. She did, but she had a serving companion. I peeked around the door and told them "We are naked and have to cover up". Of course the staff is used to this kind of situation, and nodded. I let them know I was getting decently prepared before they entered. I covered my friends cock with my robe and opened the door stark naked watching Will the black waiter’s eyes burning holes through my very, bushy pubic muff. What a rise I got, as I’m sure Will did. Our delightful Morroccan waitress just acted oblivious to my nudity, and we had a charming conversation about lotion and oil presumably because my room smells like a lilac that has been enveloped in a Lily flowers ass.
FYI, I saw Will again tonight and let him cop a feel after I gave him a DVD. Tomorrow, I plan to go to Mother Goose’s grave which happens to be right next to my hotel. Should I wear a bonnet for the photo? LOL. Then it is off to the North End for a big bowl of pasta before I morph into Persia once more. Go Patriots! Woo Woo!