This is the sequel to the Independence Day Special “Born In the U.S.A.. You can find that by clicking right here!
It was later in the day now and after endless bouts of going inside and outside to back inside I had officially had enough of the mosquitoes. I could already pass as someone with chicken pox and I was beginning to worry if I would have any blood left after this incessant holiday. I rejoined my allies at the kitchen windows.
We were like spectators at a zoo watching the children swim in the water.
Earlier before our journey into the outdoors, our scantily clad guests had wandered upstairs to change and we each gave each-other a look that, in-turn, assured us that our thoughts were in the same place. After noticing how the girl seems to walk on her tip toes, someone suggested that if she had relaxed on her feet, the shear force of how high her shorts were pulled would either A.) rupture her clitoris and create an elevator-from-the-Shining-esque mess of blood or B.) split her in half altogether. Either way, I would be stuck cleaning it up and it would be icing on the patriot cake on my least favorite day of the year. Continue reading
Back from my holiday hiatus! I’ll be writing about America’s birthday in two parts.
It’s the 4th of July what a day it is. Full of fireworks and the aroma of succulent lips and assholes ground into sludge and packed into a phallus fill the air and they spittle and crackle on open flames. It is a day where we celebrate what makes our country wonderful and we celebrate the day that our country rose up and said “we don’t need no man”. A day where family and friends celebrate their freedom by doing keg stands and mosquitoes feast like the very kings we fought to reject.
Most of all, it is a day for the children with their face stained red and blue from the endless patriotic confections and treats. The children who look forward to the risk of blowing off limbs and appendages with great rockets of fire and spark. Innocent games of football and chicken can be seen all along the shoreline as I looked out onto the great sea that will soon sport a sunset. Then the festivities would begin as stars are replaced by blooms of colored flame. Magical.
Until then there I was sitting in the kitchen as the only twenty-something at the party, avoiding all questions of college and future plans. If one more person asked me what I have been up to I was going to start my own firework finale right there aimed at their open nonsense holes. What did they want me to say? That I’ve been raising llamas in my panty drawer? That I had been giving out free tattoos to children in Africa? That I had been selling my own blood to fetishists in Kazakhstan? I just binge-watched “Orange is the New Black” for three days on netflix. Is that pleasing? It was for me. Continue reading