Thursday, April 2, 2015

Dude, not on I-4 in a Thunderstorm!

Years ago, I was a teenager.  Most of my friends were teenagers.  By definition, we did stupid shit.  A lot of stupid shit.  We demonstrated stupid on a daily basis.  This was one of those occasions.

I was 16 and the family decided to head down to central FL to visit some family in Sanford.  We spent the day playing on the St Johns and Lake Monroe.  It's always a blast down there.  We stayed for a day and went into Orlando the next.  I think we may have gone to Sea World for the day.

My sister and I each brought a friend so we had to take two cars.  The parental units, sister and her friend were in my parents car and Jonathan (yes, the same Jonathan as here and here) and I were following in my POS.  It was a miserable turd, but we had fun anyway.  I drove that car like a rental most of the time.
When I say POS, I mean we were rolling
the dice on making it home or not.  

So on the way home, we're driving along behind mom and dad, doing the stupid shit teenage boys do.  I think we were even smoking cigars while we rolled down the road.  Jonathan and my dad both had a thing for those cheap cigarillos.

Did I mention it was raining?  I mean RAINING.  Florida rain. It was one of those thunderstorms where anywhere but Florida, they'd cut in on your TV show and warn you it was on the way.  Visibility was damn near nonexistent and it was pouring hard.

Forrest Gump couldn't describe this rain.

I hope the aftermath looked like this.
We're happily rolling down the road laughing about the story my dad and aunt told that morning over breakfast burritos.  Allegedly, a friend of theirs didn't believe you could light a fart.  (I don't know if any of this is true or not, but it was funny as hell.)  This guy then proceeds to test the theory while sitting on the toilet.  Yes folks, that rapidly expanding gas didn't have anywhere to go, so it knocked him off the throne while simultaneously burning all the hair off his ass and the backs of his legs.


Yeah...   You know where this is going...


Out of nowhere, Jonathan declares loudly,  "Watch this!", reclines the seat all the way back, puts his feet on the dash and sticks a lighter right up to his butt.  All I hear is pop-pop-pop-FWOOOF! and nearly get blinded by the flash of light that fills up the cabin of the car.


He looks at me with a huge grin on his face "Did you see that??!"  And we start laughing again.

Then all color drained from his face, the smile turned into a weird expression that I can't really describe.   He looked like he was trying desperately to keep from shitting his pants.  This made me start laughing harder.

Then he starts frantically punching himself all about the butthole, taint and beanbag while screaming "MAH BUTTHOLE'S ON FIRE!!!"

At this point I completely lost my shit.  I was laughing so hard, I couldn't see, I couldn't breathe. it was everything I could do to keep the car on the road.   I think a few drops of pee may have come out.  I found out later that he literally burned a hole through his drawers and completely singed all the hair in the general vicinity of the balloon knot and grundle.

We manage to compose ourselves and thats when my dad throws on his hazards in the car in front of us and pulls over to the shoulder.  It's still pouring like a Thai monsoon, by the way.

We pull over behind them and my mom gets out and runs back to my car.  She pokes her head in the window and starts with the concerned mom routine.   "You were weaving pretty bad back there.  Everything OK?  Are you tired?  Want me to drive?"  Then the pause...

"What have y'all been burning in here?"

I lost it again.  The only words I could manage:  "Jonathan's ass."





Friday, March 13, 2015

Win a shark from Dammit Florida!!!

So we here at Dammit Florida decided to give back.  When I was but a tiny Floron-let, instead of a teddy bear, I had a rubber shark.  Yes, a rubber shark.  I’ve never been normal.  Now, you too can win your very own rubber shark.  We will send 5 lucky winners a shark, on us.  No purchase necessary, but you do have to follow @dammitflorida on twitter.


Thursday, March 12, 2015

Amazon Prime!

Hey y'all! We're working on getting some new and better content out to there, be patient. My cousin and fellow Floron, Adam have a surprise in store.
Now I'm going to try to sell you something. I promise not to turn this into a "Buy my shit" page.
We've set up an Amazon Associate program. If you aren't a Prime member, click the link and try it out. It's great, I've been using it for years and if you use my link, it helps out the site. We recently bought a FireTV to go along with the Prime membership and it's awesome. Anyway, here's a link. It's free for 30 days and you have no obligation to keep it. THANKS!





Friday, January 16, 2015

Reader Roundup 1-16-2015

Watch me do my little kooky dance.
First we have this gem from Dwight where Clayton Cornelison decided it was a good idea to do "the Helicopter" in a crosswalk.  If you're not familiar with the helicopter or the Charlie Chaplin, you either don't have a penis or enough free time on your hands.


I wouldn't steal her pork chops.
Next up, Greg sent in our honorary Floron of the week.  Yolanda Veasley from Dayton, OH.  Everybody knows that Ohio is just as weird, but in a darker, bodies in the crawlspace kind of way.    Well, Yolanda threw knives her son for eating all the pork chops.   Honorary Floron and candidate for the Dammit Florida Mother of the Year award.

Greg was on a roll this week.  He also sent in this one.  Benjamin Herman Siegel was arrested from hitting his employees with a bearded dragon.  Seriously.  He was beating his employees with a big lizard and we don't mean that as a euphemism.

She's the portrait of innocence 
Several sent this one in, but we're giving points to Rachel since she was the first.  Kids, meth is a hell of a drug.  If you're already stuck in the shallow end of the gene pool as the case seems to be here with John Arwood and Amber Campbell.  John and Amber got really high, then hid in a closet.  They stayed in the closet because they thought it was locked.  Police rescued them from the locked closet, but not after several days of poop and god knows whatever else built up in there.

Last, we have this nugget sent in by Lunchbox.  I guess you'd call this a failed marketing experiment.  John Balmer decided that he needed to start advertising his business.  The problem is that his business is a little shady.  Well, a lot shady I guess.  Take a look at his mugshot and see if you can figure out where he went wrong with the marketing campaign.

What could possibly go wrong?

Sick em!

Big thanks to Dan Berger for sending this one in via FaceBook.

Deputies were called to a gas station due to a woman behaving erratically, possibly drunk.  When they got there, Jennifer Mary Webber hauled ass into the woods.  

They finally caught her and stuffed her into the patrol car.  Thats where it gets weird.  

Jennifer had a couple of dogs with her.  Pit bulls to be exact.  She asked what were going to happen to her dogs.  The deputies asked her to call them over so they could secure the dogs for animal control.  

That's when she ordered the dogs to attack the cops.  

No one was hurt.  Thankfully, the deputy didn't freak out and shoot the dogs.  

I bet you're wondering why this story get's its own entry, instead of being part of the roundup.  

Here's why.  The mugshot.  This may be the best Florida mugshot of 2015.  It's going to be hard to top this one.  

Kids, meet Jennifer Mary Webber.

WTF is going on here?

Thursday, January 8, 2015

Taking a Virginian to Florida for the first time

When I moved to Virginia in September of 2001, I was lucky.  I got adopted by a native family that helped me ease into life outside of Florida.  It was a hard transition and a lot of Florons end up hospitalized from an acute case of boredom.  It's just too normal for us here and without local support, we wouldn't make it.

Fast forward to around April/May of 2002.  My adoptive brother, henceforth known as Jim, agrees to take a road trip to my parents house to get my boat and bring it back.  We'd stay a few days at my parents house, do some fishing and then come home.

We get in the truck and head south on I-95.  It's a typical road trip.  Farting, burping, junk food, etc.  I waited just for him to doze off and then faked an evasive maneuver just to bang his head into the window and scare the shit out of him.  The usual stuff you do to friends to mess with them.

Jim had never been to Florida before and wasn't quite sure what to expect.  He's an outdoorsy guy, but at this point, he's a little worried that fire ants might just clean him to a skeleton should he step off the sidewalk.  99% of his time in the woods was spent in VA and the most dangerous thing in these woods is the occasional black bear or copperhead.  In 13 years in VA, I have seen exactly 1 bear on the land we hunt and 1 copperhead sunning itself in the road.  There just isn't a lot that wants to kill and/or eat you in the woods here... unlike Florida.

Typical VA woods (and my kid)
My dad and I take Jim to Guana River WMA to do a little fishing and I wanted to show him were I used to hog hunt before moving to VA thinking maybe he'd want to do a hog trip sometime.
Doesn't look dangerous, does it?

"So Jim, you maybe want to come down here this fall and do some hog hunting?"

"How the hell do you hunt this thick shit?"

"I dunno, you just do.  Sometimes you might have to get down on the ground and crawl, but it's no big deal."  


Typical Florida woods
More typical Florida woods










"Hells no.  Ya'll are out of your damn minds."

...you're just figuring that one out, aren't you...

We decide to sit back, relax, and do some fishing.  If I remember correctly, we didn't catch much if anything.  More of an exploratory trip than anything else.  Since Guana is mostly salt marsh, there are fiddler crabs everywhere.  Fiddler crabs are good bait for certain species of fish that we would like to catch, I grab one and show Jim the best way to keep it on the hook.  Then I send him off into the world to catch his very own fiddler crab.

It wasn't 90 seconds before we heard the scream.

Kids, there a little bit of a technique when grabbing fiddler crabs.  You want to put your palm down flat on them and pin them so they can't fight back.

I just kind of assumed that Jim had been watching me when I grabbed them.

He wasn't.

Jim being Jim, he went and found the biggest, meanest, nastiest fiddler crab he cold find and just reached right down and grabbed him.

Mr Fiddler crab grabbed Jim right back.  With the big claw.

Come at me bro!


Jim is there, doing the pee-pee dance and winging his hand around like his fingers were on fire and he needed to put them out.

Dad and I about peed our pants.  Jim still hasn't gone hog hunting with me.  He has, however, gone back to Florida to fish with me on a few occasions.   I'll write more about those trips soon.




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