An Open Letter to Florida Tourists

Dear Florida Tourists:

First of all, let me just start out by personally thanking you for coming here. Florida has been through some tough times, and you've always been there to pick us back up. Your tireless efforts to buy as many useless tchotchkes as possible really shows how much you care. I might even give you directions or recommend a restaurant to you every once in a while. What I'm trying to say is, you're pretty great.

But there is a serious issue that we need to discuss before we continue our relationship. I only hope that we can remain friends after this.

Let us start with a discussion of the swimsuit. Wikipedia, purveyor of truth and accountability, defines a swimsuit as "an item of clothing designed to be worn while participating in water sports and activities such as swimming, water polo, diving, surfing, water skiing, or for any activity in the sun, such as sun bathing."

Now, let us ask ourselves. Can we do any of these activities inside, say, in the restaurants and/or convnience stores and/or Walmarts of the great state of Florida?

No we can't. So...

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TOURISTS PUT SOME CLOTHES ON.

If I have to see one more tourist wearing a swimsuit into a store or restaurant I will personally buy them a parka.

I get that you want to cut loose and relax on vacation, but despite popular belief, FLORIDA IS A REAL PLACE WHERE WE HAVE LAWS, RULES AND DECENCY. I don't want to talk badly about anyone's body, but that mesh coverup is NOT going to hide those 4 margaritas and 2 pieces of Key Lime Pie where you "cheated" from your diet. Think of Florida like your small, sheltered midwestern town. You wouldn't bare your blinding white legs and back rolls in public places there, would you? I would hope not.

So I beg you, spare us. And buy some effing pants.

Yoga's a Gas

Just a short blurb. Tonight I went to yoga at my gym, and the woman who put her mat next to mine said to another lady "I hope I don't fart again, but I'm not making any promises." Class. Of course I couldn't move because that would be obvious and rude, so I stayed put. Well, during the session she..let's just say...released flatulence multiple times. She said "Pardon me" each time, but c'mon!!! If you know that's going to happen, place yourself in the back! Oh well, next time I think I'll get to class a little late and pick a strategic location!

The Port Meets the Fort

What are you doing this summer? Backpacking through Europe? Skydiving in Nigeria? Scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef? Well, that's great for you. Oh, and you want us to follow your travel blog where you write long posts about all the super awesome and incredibly cultured things you're doing this summer? Well, we would if only your adventures didn't pale in comparison to our excursions in ST. LUCIE COUNTY!

What is St. Lucie County you may ask? Well the portion we're concerned with includes Port St. Lucie and Fort Pierce, FL (Therefore, the combo- Port St. Fierce).

Fort Pierce, (aka the Fort, FoPo and Port Fierce) a city vastly superior to Port St. Lucie, boasts a murder rate 5 times the national average and a forcible rape rate over 4 times the national average. What can I say, I like those odds. We are also home to a number of drive-through liquor stores and it is also the former representative district of Mark Foley, convicted creeper. Again, I like those odds. The most exciting thing in Fort Pierce is the Cove. A white trash paradise where the illustrious residents of Fort Pierce keep the economy strong by chugging as much Bud Light as humanly possible. I like to think of it as their way to boost the economy. Thank you, patriots. You may have heard of Fort Pierce in the news recently when a patron of the McDonalds on Delaware Ave. called 911 because they were out of chicken nuggets. No, really. I'm not lying.

Port Saint Lucie, AKA PSL, Port St. Lousy, Pot St. Lucie, or my personal favorite the Pizzle, has much to offer. It's murder rate is only 0.13 times the national average, but the average male income is $18,000 a year. So the only logical conclusion I can draw from those stats is that people are too poor to buy weapons. You may know PSL as the birthplace of Megan Fox, or where Vanilla Ice resides with his wallaroo, Buckaroo, and his goat, Pancho who escaped in 2004, and were found frolicking around the city. (Read the article: http://www.usatoday.com/life/people/2004-11-22-ice-wallaroo-goat_x.htm). It also made the news when a man stormed into a person's home and stole their toilet.

(http://manolaw.blogspot.com/2009/11/porta-potty.html). The most exciting thing in Port St. Lucie is definitely the WalMart. Where else can you see 300 lb. men in their pajamas at 3 in the morning? (Besides my bedroom).

This blog will be a 3 month journey into the hearts and, as it were, bowels, of St. Lucie County. The two writers will be Megan Moran, lifelong Port St. Lucian, and Allison Norris, reluctant Fort Piercian (?). We will be working in each others towns this summer, which should be an interesting study in "greener grass". So join us for the trials, tribulations and tomfoolery of PORT ST. FIERCE.