Jokes That Never Get Old

I realized my last post wasn't truly about the North End. It happened in the North End, but excuses, excuses.

Here is an adventure I had about a year ago in Mike's Pastry. I had taken pictures, but never developed them from my disposable camera.
Mike's Pastry is a pastry shop with Italian pastries of the delicious varietal. It's always very busy. Lines out the door.

This is a picture of a cake my friend Adam and I bought when we were blasted.
As we purchased the Boston Cream, the woman at the counter said, "what do you want on it?"
To which we looked at her, looked at each other, and Adam said, "chocolate."
She didn't mean chocolate.
"What do you mean?" I said to lady.
"We write something on it."
"How much does that cost?"
"It's free."
Adam and I consulted each other.
just a dick. just a dick. Haha. No way. something inappropriate but won't get us in trouble.
"POOP!" I screamed.
"Pardon me?"
"Poop," I clarified for the woman, "I want it to say poop."
"Can you write that down."

I wrote "POOP". Adam conceded however that there should be a "!"
"I agree."



Poop we wanted, and so it did say.