“I’ve never been truly proud of creating the American flag until I saw this gorgeous picture,” said the ghost of Betsy Ross, or whoever is responsible for the American flag.
You know that fireworks show that caused your dog to break out of the yard, run to NASA and stowaway on a rocket because it thought the earth was being attacked by aliens? That fireworks show didn’t happen. You also know how you had to be rushed to the hospital after you drunkenly swallowed four corn dogs whole and the sticks got stuck in your insides (I’ll let you decide which hole you swallowed them down with)? That didn’t happen either, because the Fourth of July never happened. I mean, how could we celebrate America’s birthday when photo agencies barely released these patriotic-as-fuck pictures of this country’s greatest gift today?
But shove a bottle of Xanax into your dog’s mouth and drunkenly butt fuck those corn dogs, because we can now celebrate the Fourth of July since we’ve been graced with pictures of patriotic freckled blossom Phoebe Price doing what she does every year: giving the citizens of the land a show so spectacular that Macy’s is nothing but jealous.
Here’s this country’s founding mother modeling half of a Big Lots’ American flag section while in somebody’s townhouse. And yes, I said this country’s founding mother. This country didn’t officially become a thing until PP came along!