Some well-meaning sex fiends log on here all lathered and excited . . . and then they get po’ed. These steamers see “Sand Sex” and they take the words literally, i.e., a blog devoted to beach porn. Sorry, there are a million and one sites devoted to penises and vaginae out there (and I've seen 'em all!) but this ain’t one of ‘em.
No, as the millions and millions of worldwide warped minds who follow this blog know, although I may “touch” upon the subjects every so often, this site is not devoted to “sex” or “sand” or galloping libidos; it is instead about “faction,” or that uneasy wedding of fact and fiction. When truth, honesty and fact are just too damned troublesome or boring to print, they are suspended by your blogger momentarily and embellishment, fudging and especially hyperbole take over. And so, to answer the three or four complaints I get each week about the title. . . .
WARNING: THIS BLOG IS NOT ABOUT SEX ON, IN, UNDER, OR ABOVE THE SAND! It’s about geezers driving cars and free-ranging pit bulls and me trying to avoid both while balancing on a bike in Florida.
WARNING: THIS BLOG IS NOT ABOUT SEX ON, IN, UNDER, OR ABOVE THE SAND! It’s about geezers driving cars and free-ranging pit bulls and me trying to avoid both while balancing on a bike in Florida.
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More Confusion--Nancy Lane, 80, was exiting I-75 last week over at Port Charlotte. In the car with the local woman were John and Dawn Fazekas, 81 and 79, respectively, Phyllis Oberg 84, and the kid of the group, Bev Defazio, 71.
As Mrs. Lane drove down the exit ramp she noticed an unoccupied car sitting off on the shoulder. For reasons unclear, instead of avoiding the vehicle and continuing down the ramp, the driver floored it and steered straight toward the parked car. Everyone in Nancy's car was hurt, but especially Dawn Fazekas, who was hurt to death.
Since over-indulging on Spring Break and St. Paddy’s day bar-hopping would both seem out of the question, the only answer cops can come up with for the fatal accident is that Mrs. Lane became “confused” and mistook the gas for the brake pedal. Why am I not surprised?
Since over-indulging on Spring Break and St. Paddy’s day bar-hopping would both seem out of the question, the only answer cops can come up with for the fatal accident is that Mrs. Lane became “confused” and mistook the gas for the brake pedal. Why am I not surprised?
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Name That Town--There’s a Hell, Michigan . . . a Frankenstein, Missouri . . . a Monkey’s Eyebrow, Kentucky . . . Knockemstiff, Ohio . . . Hopeulikeit, Georgia . . . Truth or Consequences, New Mexico . . . Horneytown, North Carolina . . . Hooker Hole, Louisiana . . . and a Dick Shooter, Idaho. Looking back on some old blogs, I see that Davie, Florida, seems to have a corner on about half of the dog attacks here in Florida. Maybe the people there should rename their town and call it Beware of Dog, Florida . . . or, Walk At Your Own Risk, Florida . . . or, Rottweiler! Run For Your Life, Florida.
And since North Port, Florida seems to have way more sex crimes than any other place I have ever heard of, maybe a name change here too? Hide Your Children, Florida? Creepy Old Men, Florida? Hang ‘Em High, Florida?
Now, the above names may not be good for tourism but strangers to these towns will at the very least be forewarned.
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