For the ladies (and the gents that likes visiting Victoria's Secret)
"I don't think it works on Poofters..."
Best. Foamy. Yet.
I'm in Bar Harbor, Maine which nicely translate to Butt Fucking Middle of Nowhere for a 20 year Miami city slicker such as myself.
I am staying in a 1912 mansion house that has been converted to a seasonal hotel. It's old, drafty, full of history and could possibly be haunted. And there is a secret room somewhere that no one has found yet that was originally created by the builder/first owner of the house. So they say. Everywhere I walk, the hardwood floors creek and its damn drafty. The manson sits on top of a cliff that overlooks a rocky shoreline with trees and rocks that have been wind and sea battered. I took pictures of the outside before the batteries died. Just my luck. And there is no place where I can get batteries for miles. Argh. But at least the whole manson as WiFi.
This place is run my a really nice lady, Mona, that is a KILLER cook. I get to learn and have fucking awesome food. And one of these nights we are having a lobster dinner. Oooh, yum. I am gonna pay for it later but right now who cares. Fresh Maine Lobster. Go ahead, be envious and drool.
Okay more later. Going to find a fireplace to sit by.
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4 comments:
Sounds like quite an adventure. You should write some more fiction up there, get a good Stephen King-y vibe going. Maine is his thing, after all.
I've been listening to your mix more and more, btw. Great stuffs.
bring back a number of interesting accounts!
- Pop
OMG, it's DARK SHADOWS! (only with WiFi)
s.
mmm, lobster.
mmm. scones, lobster, and double devon cream. just not on the same plate.
enjoy yourself.
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