like an American

Belated 4th of July post because it is my absolute favorite day and I spent it in beautiful nature with the most beautiful people I know. We listened to classic rock and Lana Del Rey, we let the sun envelop our bodies, we let our lips become blood red with sugar from snow cones. We lived loud and proud.

My favorite beauties

Small town parades full of pride and salt water taffy. Picking the taffy off the street while its still gooey in its wrapper makes it taste all the sweeter.

Aftermath of a very victorious and refreshing water war. AKA the best part of the parade.

We rock red lips like nobody else. Nobody else at all. 

We also rock dancing to incredibly perfect cover bands better than anyone else. This cover band comes complete with lead singer cloaked in only the tightest white pants in the world and a vest with an American flag print. Their standing engagement at the Kaysville, Utah July 4th party is the stuff of dreams. So is our dancing when you take into account that the other dancers are either well below 11 or well above 50. We look astounding.

And of course, des feu d'artifice. 

America is dancing like no one is watching, but knowing that if they are that you look sexy and strong and free. My hair is whipping across my face and my whole orgasmic body is moving with the sound pressing against every curve of me. America is late night talks at Denny's with your best friends about your fears and your dreams and knowing that they will listen and will always be there for you and hug you close like warm summer nights. 

Happy 4th, everyone. I felt young and dope and proud, like an American.