Eight-Stone Press


Smile, Hon, You're in Flagrante!

Smile, Hon, You're in Flagrante! COVER

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Smile, Hon, You're in Baltimore!
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Willam P. Tandy
c/o Eight-Stone Press
PO Box 11064
Baltimore, MD
21212 USA
wpt@eightstonepress.com

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Table of contents
INTRODUCTION
Cold Feet ~ Missy Katz ~
Take It to the Streets ~ Simon Moon ~
Rebirth ~ Julie Fisher ~
Love and Cigarettes ~ Alison Seay ~
My Sexual Exploits ~ Charlie “Subwoofer” Stiles ~
Shooting Pool with Rope ~ Nemetz ~
The Hot Real World ~ Dan “Damien” Reed ~
Broadway Mutts ~ Benn Ray ~
The Truth ~ Wayne Countryman ~
My Non-Fuck Buddy ~ Lisa Wiseman ~
Man’s Best Friend ~ S.J. Ferrandi ~
Room 829 ~ Rafael Alvarez ~
The Cave of Rocks ~ Desiree Envoutant ~
A Beautiful Thing ~ Sharon Goldner ~
XXXZZZZZZZZZ ~ Lolita Honeybush ~
Moscow on the Patapsco ~ Michel Mouillet ~
Shopping ~ E. Doyle-Gillespie ~
Portrait of a Virgin Mother ~ Timmy Reed ~
The Story of OMG ~ Rosie Cheeks ~
On History ~ E. Doyle-Gillespie ~
Sexual Healing ~ Jenna Stroker ~
Witness to a Sin ~ Jeffrey L. Shipley ~
Fire ~ Caryn Coyle ~
Un Extraño En La Tierra Del Fuego Y Hielo ~ Johnny Come-Lately ~
In the Heat of the... ~ Honora Sully ~
Mating Maria ~ Fernando Quijano III ~
I Got Lucky ~ Rahne Alexander ~
Like Bodies ~ Rosalia Scalia ~
Catastrophe on Read Street ~ Susan Beverly ~
Liberation ~ Fiona Fall ~
Metal Guru ~ Anal Roberts ~
Guitar Worn Fingers ~ Sister Fister ~
The Middle of the Three-Pack ~ Nemetz ~
Pax Romantic ~ Michel Mouillet ~
Wet Dawn, Dry Day ~ H. Badlove ~
Imaginary Confession Booth ~ J. Gavin Heck ~
This is How It Starts ~ Sommer Marsden ~
On a Shelf ~ J. Gavin Heck ~
Seh-X ~ Bom Trown ~
About the Contributors


INTRODUCTION
by Wm. P. Tandy

And that, you know, children are the only ones who blush…
The Velvet Underground, “Sweet Jane”

Benjamin Franklin once declared “death and taxes” to be life’s only certainties, and in that observation he could have as well hailed from Baltimore as the City of Brotherly Love. However, his omission of sex from this list of verities I find a curious one, given that, almost any place he went, the old boy saw more pussy than a toilet seat. Indeed, from Parisian high society to the West Wycombe Caves, Franklin engaged in dalliances that would make the indiscretions of today’s political emissaries look about as risqué as holding hands.

Bottom line: our inherent preoccupation with sex is nothing new. After all, but for those chosen few conceived by science (and, of course, the Baby Jesus), we are all sexual byproducts. In fact, despite Ray Ray Perkins’s best efforts in John Waters’s 2004 film A Dirty Shame, it’s difficult to imagine any position or permutation that the human animal has not yet tried in the last 200,000 years.

Nevertheless, each generation – much to the amusement of those who came before – is drawn to the barren tree’s spring blossoms as though it were the first to nest among its foliage. However, time (and retro-porn) will ultimately correct any silly youthful notion that they’re sticking anything anywhere that grandma and grandpa didn’t try themselves – twice.

Nowhere in Baltimore is this more evident than in the city’s notorious red-light district (known colloquially as “The Block”), which to this day coexists with Police Headquarters and City Hall in a ménage à trois that occupies no more than one or two square-blocks. However, proximity doesn’t always breed the friendliest of bedfellows in Mobtown, to which anyone – which is to say most everyone – who has awkwardly-but-inevitably brushed shoulders with past conquests in these tight waterfront quarters will attest.

“You think that’s bad,” one frequent Smile, Hon contributor says of Small-timore’s penchant for foisting uncomfortable encounters with exes upon its inhabitants, “try being a lesbian.”

In Baltimore, just as any place else, different people have different sex for entirely different reasons: love, power, companionship, sadness, the pure and simple satisfaction of a biological urge, to name but a few. And to be sure, personal experience, place, time and culture all color each account collected herein. You’ll read of couples, groups and solos; of some who like it gentle, and those who want it rough; of bondage and domination; of fetishes and sadomasochism; of humorous, humiliating and life-altering sex; impotence; the faithful and those who strayed; and, of course, straight-up vanilla. But regardless of who does what where, why or with whom, the common instinctive drive – as fundamental as mankind’s need for food, water, clothing or shelter – remains constant.

Of course, where there is no right or wrong between consenting adults, the only crime may be in being, well, boring – something of which our man Franklin was most certainly not guilty.

“Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing,” he once noted. Hopefully, you will find the contributors in this issue guilty on both counts.

So, what are you waiting for? Come get some…

WILLIAM P. TANDY
February 2010


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