Issuu

FAG RAG FIRE ISLAND

AUGUST 2020

VOLUME 1 ISSUE 2

Masthead Editor-In-Chief

Contributing Writers

TOMIK DASH Photographers

VICTOR JEFFREYS II

BOBBY BONANNO FAGUERREOTYPE GREG SCARNICI Graphic Design

MICHAEL DAMOND wemergemedia.com

Cover Photo by Victor Jeffreys II Model: Ty Talley We are accepting original editorial submissions from photographers. E-mail info@fagragmag.com with the subject “Photo Submission”.

Table of Contents Page 3 Letter From The Editor Page 4 From The Pines, With Love by Bobby Bonanno Page 8 Stitched by Victor Jeffreys II

Page 20 Faggots & Their Friends, Between Pandemics by Faguerreotype Page 26 Captain COVID by Greg Scarnici Page 32 Ferry Schedule Page 33 Party Photos

Pickup Your Free Copy in Fire Island Pines at D. Katen Fire Island Properties TOLA General Store Camp Tuft X Handsome Sean Basil McGiver Gallery

in Cherry Grove at Cherry Grove Hotel The Belvedere Coastal Roots F.I.G. Grove Pizza Rainbow Dreams

*All homes in Cherry Grove and Fire Island Pines (excluding the Co-Ops) get a free delivery. *If you are a business that would like to carry the magazine pls contact info@fagragmag.com.

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A Letter from the Editor

lmost 15 years ago, I was a determined 20-something living in Atlanta. I worked full time in a great salon where I was often booked solid. You couldn’t tell me anything! (Some would argue that you still can’t.) One of my nightlife friends, we’ll call him Arden, was a scientist who loved to drink.

Given the gravity of his profession, I didn’t know how he did it. But I have to say he was a highly functional and very happy drunk. Many a night we would go to Blake’s, a bar that we loved to bitch about but still go to anyway, and get into whatever kind of trouble that we could find. Arden typically enjoyed kicking the night off by ordering a flute of champagne. The first time I saw him order one, I asked him, “What are we celebrating?” He said, “I’m celebrating myself!” He lifted his glass, I lifted mine, we clinked, and he yelled, “Celebrate yourself God dammit!” Now I’m not the type of person to order champagne everywhere I go, but that toast stuck with me and it became our signature from that point on. Time passed, both of us moved, and over the years I mostly forgot about those moments. But like a lot of old memories, this one has returned to me years later. This summer it feels especially poignant. So much shit has transpired. So many beautiful souls have been lost to COVID-19, even some in our Fire Island community, and in many aspects of our lives, we are still figuring out ways to keep our heads above water. Things have been hard for me too. But I’m making a conscious effort to count each passing day as a small victory. It’s something that I think we could all benefit from, as it’s very easy to forget. So the next time you are having a socially distanced alcoholic or non-alcoholic beverage with a friend, hold your glasses up, look your friend in the eyes and remind them to “Celebrate yourself God dammit!” We all deserve it.

Tomik Dash, Editor-In-Chief

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From

The Pines, With Love

Navigating Fire Island in COVID times by Bobby Bonanno

@fipines

How do you get young gay people to not only learn history, but appreciate it? Figuring this out has been my journey for the last ten years as President of Fire Island Pines Historical Preservation Society (FIHPS). Fire Island has been a gay haven since the 1950s. The neighborhood of Fire Island Pines began as a straight community, but its proximity to the mostly gay neighborhood of Cherry Grove quickly caught the attention of gays who wanted more access to space and beauty. That straight percentage of both communities has now flipped from larger to smaller, while the culture in some ways has only become more enriched with each passing year. The 1970s were the golden age of the Pines as the worlds of fashion, art, and disco created a melting pot fueled by sex and drugs. Creativity flourished, drawing celebrities, models, and the elite of New York City and Europe. This all created an image of glamour and exclusivity that still rings true today. The combination of getting on a boat where your cares drift away, and landing in what can sometimes be called a gay theme park, has grown in demand. In 2004 the commercial district on the harbor was sold by longtime owner John Whyte to Eric Von Kuersteiner. With that came the change in demographics as marketing focused on a new generation He built it and they

Tea Dance - 1979

did come, and still come today. Unfortunately, with that came a new entitled generation, bringing little, but wanting more. Without a relationship to what came before, the respect for any rules are passed by in favor of a free for all of parties, sex, and drugs. Did it go on before? Yes. That is until a plague called AIDS came along. 5

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So here we are in 2020 thinking we have evolved.

We have been watching the rules bend for years. It was allowed, as we were all possibly getting something out of it. Money, sex, whatever it was, caused many to look the other way. Amid this novel coronavirus epidemic, we are now brought back to the ’80s where many did not want to hear about something that could hinder the fun of Fire Island. What comes to mind is one of my mentors, the late playwright/activist Larry Kramer, pleading with the then gay community to listen. Another mentor, Madonna, in her lyrics to “God Control” said, “Everybody knows the damn truth! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!” And in the movie “The Normal Heart,” we are taken on that historic ride through history. A history that many from the now generation do not want to look at. As a matter of fact, in 2014 when I held a private screening in the Pines of the film, only the mature population showed up. July 4th is the celebration of not only our country, but on Fire Island, “The Invasion.” A historic day where Cherry Grove drag queens invade the Pines commemorating that day in 1976 where a drag queen was refused service at a Pines restaurant. This year we had a different kind of invasion. One that represented a change in the community that many might have seen but looked the other way. Entitlement in its most brazen form. I had already heard about some parties going on in the early season and seen some of the non-mask wearers walking about, but nothing prepared me for the fireworks that happened on the beach. First, there was a day party with a large gathering of boys. None wearing masks and no social distancing of any kind. Then there was a late-night party in the Meat Rack, a beachy, wooded enclave between the communities of the Pines and Cherry Grove. That particular party was allegedly planned with invites and a DJ. The proverbial S#*T hit the fan! The scale of these events was so massive that they even drew the attention of major media outlets and Governor Cuomo. To make matters worse, a person at the beach party acknowledged his very recent COVID exposure on social media, making him the pariah of the event. This has now become the wake-up call to the community. While PJ McAteer, owner of the commercial properties in the Pines, has been struggling to keep things moving forward according to government guidelines, all hell was breaking loose.

July 4th beach in the Pines

Well as the glitter now settles, changes are being made. Pines Party online has now been canceled. The Fire Island Pines Property Owners Association (FIPPOA) is stepping up to partner with local police to monitor goings on in homes and on the beach. And a sense of community is emerging from the past as all take umbrage with the possible destruction of their beloved island. This all brings back the past as we remember the early days of AIDS when many ignored the signs of what was to come. I get it. Nobody wants to look back at sad times, however, those times are what teach us about how to move forward. They give us the opportunity to learn. It is up to those from an older generation to not only have the skills to mentor, but the patience. And the younger generation needs to be patient with us as well.

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Fire Island Pines was, and is, resilient. Throughout time it has hosted many benefits to challenge adversity within our community. Such as “From the Pines with Love,” which included many celebrities such as Dionne Warwick, Melba Moore, and Melissa Manchester. Also, partnering with GMHC (Gay Men’s Health Crisis), the Morning Party was created in 1982 and grew into a huge beach event lasting 16 years. Pines pioneer, realtor, and club owner Doris Taussig took many AIDS patients into her home on the island to give them an escape. The history of Fire Island Pines is rich, colorful, and certainly never boring. We must look back to how this was handled. Mistakes were made. Like today people were scared, and at that moment, made decisions that did not necessarily make themselves popular. I think again of the film ‘The Normal Heart” when we see Ned (Larry Kramer) handing out flyers in the harbor warning gay men about AIDS, only to see the indifference. That indifference cost many their lives. Another film called “Longtime Companion” comes to mind. It was a phrase used by the New York Times to reference the passing of one’s partner in the early days of AIDS. Filmed in the Pines in 1989, they were not able to use any location that would reference the Pines itself as the then President of the homeowner’s association, Alan Brockman, felt it would hurt the community. Both of these films are our history books to look back and learn as we steer through this pandemic. As I am writing this, people are stepping up to help create change. Nightlife promoter Daniel Nardicio has put together the “COVID Destroyers” to greet people at the harbor, infiltrate beach parties, encourage social distancing, and educate visitors about how to protect themselves and others while still having fun. We are hoping to work with the Sayville Ferry on doing a historic display at the terminal with images

From The Pines With Love ‘92

of masks and social distancing. My hope in all of this is to bring back a stronger sense of community, and a cultural change. This time in our history will certainly be captured in our archives, and sometime in the future we will look back and remember this moment in time that changed us forever. These things are just as important as creating an atmosphere that makes young people interested in learning about our history. There are a few ways that FIHPS is trying to do that. We live in a photo-driven society where reading sometimes gets lost, so every day we post on our social media what we call “bite size pieces of history.” We’re also exploring opportunities through live video. COVID has taken away the opportunity to celebrate anniversaries in person, so we recently celebrated the 40th anniversary of the Pavilion nightclub via a Zoom event instead. We have also used the platform to showcase some iconic Fire Island DJs. And finally, we are figuring out how to rework our walking tour, “A Walk Through History,” as an app that one can purchase and use to take the tour on their own or with friends. I am excited about this as we will be using the language of youth. My hope in all of this is to bring back a stronger sense of community, and a cultural change. This time in our history will certainly be captured in our archives, and sometime in the future we will look back and remember this moment in time that changed us forever.

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Photographer: Victor Jeffreys II @victorjeffreysii

Model: Ty Talley @tytalleyofficial 8

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FRITZANDTROY.COM

RETURN to TOUCH

NEW YORK CITY • FIRE ISLAND PINES • FORT LAUDERDALE

bookmmx.com • 917-599-6901 19

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THE FAGGOTS & THEIR FRIENDS BETWEEN PANDEMICS Text & Illustrations by Faguerreotype This story is a love letter to the seminal queer, utopian text, “The Faggots & Their Friends Between Revolutions,” by Larry Mitchell, illustrated by Ned Asta, published in 1977. Pick it up if this piques your interest. 20

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PART

A Long, Long Island

Itâ€™s been a long time since the last plague, and yet the faggots and their friends are still not safe. The first pandemics were made by the agents of Ramrod to destroy us, but in some ways set us free. The second pandemics were ignored by the peoples of Ramrod in favor of freedom, but in some ways destroyed us. Now the faggots and their friends live in Cumton by the Sea. They used to have no leaders and only dead heroes, but are now led by a council of the many named the Livink. The Livink have forgotten the ways of Ramrod and weapons, and fierceness, and rich men without color, and tax-collectors, and bloodshed. The faggots and their friends have made a new way in Cumton by the Sea, long removed from memories of violence. The plagues have felled all the empires, and yet the Men keep building them anew, looting and losing more and more things that they never owned in the first place. In Cumton by the Sea the faggots do not have to loot or lose with the Men, and are free to borrow all the colors and lend all the charming old rags, woven into new with patches made from flowers from the garden. The faggots forgot the wisdom of oppression, they had been gone so long from the Men and Their Wombmen and their empires. The faggots and their friends instead learned from the wisdom of the dykes, who lived just over the Dunes in Vulvil by the Bay. It was always easy to find, even on the darkest night when the moon was but a sliver in the sky. Vulvil by the Bay has its own council of Livink. In Vulvil and Cumton there are more queens and kings than every royal court in herstory, whomst are treated with dignity and respect as befits their elaborate titles. The queens and kings are special because they can live wherever they choose amongst the dykes and faggots and their friends, or even with the faeries who live in the Dunes and Forests. 21

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A FAGGOT FABLE Quill had been living with the faggots and their friends in Cumton by the Sea for a time. She had left her comfortable House in Vulvil by the Bay to stay with her new friend, Lullabye, in their House, Myrtle Broadway, one of the middle houses on the Pansy Path that the faggots had excavated from the sand. Myrtle Broadway was not a very lovely house, painted mint-green over bleached pine on the outside, with a startling variety of “accent walls’’ within. It was over-filled with bric-a-brac and memories from the BeforeTime, but it was a pleasant enough home, nonetheless. Quill liked to wake early, make some tea, and write plays which she would read to the boys in the house after lunch, and which they would reenact after supper. She sat in the garden near the lavender bush to nuzzle a stray tomcat whom she dubbed Shifty, and practiced forgiving his philandery. Quill could always tell when it was time for brunch because the faggots and their friends would wake and fill Myrtle Broadway with old songs. Miss Hannigan, a spindly fellow with wispy hair and always a poly-satin robe, was the eldest of the three House Folks of Myrtle Broadway and Quill’s least favorite. Every morning, around noonish, Miss Hannigan would start the song, some faded showtune, always in E flat, while cooking the boys brunch. She was as reliable as a rooster and equally shrill as she burnt the flapjills and blushed the bloody marties with bathtub gin. Quill didn’t drink much back in Vulvil by the Bay, but the daily bloodies helped her forget a little, or at least remember less.

LOST MEMORIES

The faggots and their friends, sometime between pandemics, were foraging for fungi under the underpasses, and came upon a cluster of magic. They did not do the proper rituals because they had not been forged yet, and instead gobbled up the magic in the way they had been taught to gobble up everything by The Men. Also, they were very hungry and the magic made them less so. After they had stared and fucked and cried together, the faggots began to to search, for they felt very dry in their throats. They drank each other’s juices and napped in one another’s hair, but this did not quench them as it usually did. They followed the sound of water and came upon a nineteenpoint stag, lapping at a crack in the ice of a frozen river - for it was winter and they were cold - they just remembered. The stag was frightened by their forms and bolted off across the ice. The faggots and their friends followed, cautiously at first, laughing and slipping as they slid and they slid and slipped across the creaking ice... ...Most of them made it. When the magic had faded from their bodies and the sun began to rise, the stag was nowhere in sight. Before them stretched a beach across a long, long island, between the Sea and the Bay, with a hundred, hundred, pine-clad mansions, all buried in the sand. 22

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A FAGGOT FABLE Lullabye was a cum-hungry hole like most of the faggots and their friends, but this isn’t what made them noteworthy. What made Lullabye unique was how they liked to fall in love. Lullabye fell in love frequently and with great gusto. What struck the other faggots as curious, however, was Lullabye’s unusual penchant for falling in love with only one other faggot at a time. Scandalous, really. Lullabye would forsake all others, even during the sacred, biweekly gangbang Rituals, and sometimes Lullabye would give become very hurt and jealous when this behavior was not reciprocated. This did not deter Lullabye from getting jumping right back on the whores, as the saying goes, and falling in love anew, only to be inevitably crushed once more. Any faggot would do, really, as long as they gave Lullabye that look and a sufficient quantity of delicious orgasm juice. In return, Lullabye would give them their love completely for them to cherish or squander as they saw fit. One night, Lullabye’s love was, once again, set aside by their then beloved. Distraught, Lullabye ran fully naked across the plank boulevards til they reached the Faggot Fuck Palace, which also served as as the Hospital and community Dining Hall for convenience. Lullabye was frantic to share themself between the faggots and their friends, collecting tiny bits of love to fill themself up. As the first birds of dawn began to fill their air with chatter, Lullabye made their excuses and extracted themselves from the lips and hands and cocks and butts and fingers, still feeling impossibly empty and now also rather sore. It was still dark out as Lullabye made their way down to the beach, vowing, once again, to hurl themself into the sea, as was their personal breakup custom. Lullabye had become quite the adept swimmer by this point, an amends to Poseidon for their rather frail physique and lack of natural buoyancy. As they approached the Bay, for the Sea was much too rough for such things, Lullabye saw, to their chagrin, that someone had beat they to it - and to add insult to injury, the barely submerged figure had the nerve to be wearing! Their very own Drowning Gown! The one they had embroidered especially for an occasion such as this. “You thieving cop!” Lullabye screeched as they dragged a sputtering body from the Bay. “Who do you think you are, borrowing my CUSTOM drowning gown without asking? It doesn’t even fit you right, and look: You ripped it! As they continued to chastise her failure to drown properly, Lullabye noticed a lovely white streak in the tendrils of black curls now plastered to her face. Being low on sympathy, but full of drama, Lullabye gave her half-hearted CPR while tersely explaining that the dress was very precious to them and that they had handsewn in a single stone into the hem for every lover who had jilted them. At this, the gown thief began to cry. She too had been jilted by her lover, her one and only, for a younger woman with no name. 23

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FAGGOT WISDOM

Your Lovers’ Lovers can one day your own, as long as you are patient, hung, or wealthy.

WOMEN WISDOM Men are often wrong.

A FAGGOT FABLE A Reconciliation was called between two Houses, the three Folks of Grover’s Coroners, and the three Folks of Myrtle Broadway, met with two queens and one king in the Royal Reconciliation Place of Belvedere Palace. The ancient Baroque palace was rarely used for Reconciliations of this small a scale, but since the Dispute was between the Houses of two different settlements, the kings and queens were needed. Miss Hannigan spoke on behalf of the Myrtle Broadway Folk, explaining how precious the drowning gown was to Lullabye, and how they had not intended to prevent Quill’s suicide, only to rescue a beloved dress that was of much sentimental value. Then, all of them gave Lullabye words of love, and spoke of the good they had done, and the good they had yet to do. Even Quill, who barely knew Lullabye at all, said that they had sewn a beautiful drowning gown and that she would happily mend the tear she had made with the white threads from her very own hair. Quill’s Folk spoke on her own behalf, explaining that she was sorry for stealing the gown, and that she had been selfish to borrow without asking, it was only that she had wanted to die because her Favorite had forsaken her for another. This saddened the queens and kings, and even Lullabye, and they understood. Then, all of them gave her words of love, and spoke of the good she had done, and the good she had yet to do. Even Lullabye, who barely knew Quill at all, said that she had looked very chic while drowning and that she was forgiven for ripping the gown by accident, and that she could even borrow it after Lullabye had died, if she wanted. Quill thought this was very generous. Queen.Morticia.Antoinette.Godiva.Cat.Deity.of.Dance.Sex.Magic.&.POWER, dressed in her crystalline pantsuit with impossibly tall stilettos and a matching chapeau, spoke on behalf of the royals. She said, in her Magnanimity, that Quill and Lullabye had much in common, and proclaimed, in her Generosity, that both were in need of a friend who was not a lover. It was decided by all present that Quill would go to live at Myrtle Broadway for a time, until her ex-Favorite could be located and convinced to come back for a proper Reconciliation of their own. A Mending was proclaimed and to end the Reconciliation they each uttered a prayer for unity, then recited, in unison, the motto of their sister settlements:

Non Utopia, Non Punitor. The ritual closed with the sacred sound of Acab. And all were appeased.

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Pitch Your Pup Send us a pic of your Fire Island pup and we might feature them in the next issue! info@fagragmag.com Put “Pitch Your Pup” in the subject 25

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Captain COVID Written by Greg Scarnici www.gregscarnici.com

t the start of the pandemic, my husband, Paul dubbed me Captain COVID. At the time, we were living in Brooklyn, and I was constantly correcting things he was doing after he went food shopping to make sure we were staying safe. On March 24th,we decided to move out to Cherry Grove, where weâ€™ve been living ever since. In that time, New Yorkâ€™s numbers started going down, and we, like everyone else, started loosening up our extremely tight quarantine to allow friends and family who were following the same protocols as we were back into our life.

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Captain COVID kept his watch and would correct friends who were sharing joints at get-togethers, getting too close in the pool after they had a few drinks, or loosening up so much that they started hooking up again. I’m one of the rare people who adapted to social distancing easily, and can maintain my awareness of what I should be doing even after five margaritas – which, as we all know, can happen on any given Monday here on Fire Island. As a New Yorker who has not yet tested positive for the antibodies, it’s been my goal to try to continue staying safe until we know more about the virus. Arguments with friends ensued after everyone started opening up in different ways, and I needed to remind my friends that any risks they were taking also affected our entire pod. For instance, I knew we would be having a Fourth of July get-together with an 80-year-old friend, and I did not want to take the chance of getting him sick because I got horny and decided to hook up. Which leads me to pretty much the only part of the pandemic I have a hard time dealing with: the complete and utter destruction of my sex life. Sure, the start of this dystopian nightmare we’re currently living through rekindled the romance between my husband and I, but who wants to suck the same dick every night?!? Certainly not this sex-positive person who would be well into the double digits of sexual partners by this point during a normal summer on Fire Island. Back in April and May, I started an experiment where I would use SCRUFF to meet up with guys in the Meat Rack to jerk off from a distance. That worked for about a week, until sex-crazed men would say things like, “Let me suck you off. You can keep your mask on!” and “You can fuck me. I have the antibodies!” I soon realized this was not going to work out, as not everyone had the same restraint as Captain COVID.

The first time this happened, I told the guy, “I’m just in Phase One right now,” and he laughed and understood. But as the summer progressed, any time I spent on SCRUFF always ended with an invitation to hook up that I would have to turn down by replying, “I’m not hooking up right now cuz we’re living in a pandemic.” Most men have understood, but many others have replied that they have the antibodies and are safe. One even went as far as to say, “I can show you my papers!” Gurl. I know you’re hungry for dick, but chill. First of all, the science is still not clear on all of this and the testing has been a hot mess, offering false negatives and positives for months. Secondly, we all know some queen or ten who has lied to us on a hookup app. Bringing home an STI to my husband is one thing, but I certainly don’t want to bring COVID home to him or anyone else who is trusting me in our quarantine pod. For me, I guess Phase Two would mean having sex with masks on. But it’s also an indicator of what we’re living through; AKA a complete and total boner killer. At 48, I need all the help I can get to keep this thing up. And although I would like to hook up with some guys I know and trust, at this point, everyone has opened up so much, that I don’t think it’s possible to do that safely anymore. In my eyes, there was a period between around June 25th and July 3rd when it might have been possible to do this because everyone was taking small, calculated risks. But as we hear rumblings of underground sex parties and witnessed what happened during the 4th of July weekend, Captain COVID is just gonna wait a little while longer before hooking up. Or at least until I can get that damn NYC Health Department-sanctioned gloryhole erected in my backyard. 27

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COVID-19 has made us come up with new ways to discuss and have safer sex.

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Ferry Schedule

Monday, July 20 until further notice

FIRE ISLAND PINES

CHERRY GROVE

MONDAY - WEDNESDAY Leave Sayville 5:40am (will stop in the Grove also), 7am, 10:25am, 1:30pm, 3:30pm, 5:10pm

MONDAY - WEDNESDAY Leave Sayville 5:40am (will stop in the Pines also), 7am, 9:25am, 12:10pm, 3:30pm, 5:20pm

Leave Pines 6:25am (will stop in the Grove also), 7:25am, 11am, 2pm, 4pm, 6pm

Leave Cherry Grove 6:05am (will stop in the Pines also), 7:25am, 9:50am, 12:40pm, 4pm, 6pm

THURSDAY Leave Sayville 7am, 9:25am, 11:25am, 1:30pm, 3:30pm, 5:30pm, 7:30pm

THURSDAY Leave Sayville 7am, 9:25am, 12:10pm, 3:30pm, 5:20pm

Leave Pines 7:25am, 10am, 12pm, 2pm, 4pm, 6pm, 8pm FRIDAY Leave Sayville 7am, 9:25am, 11:25am, 1:30pm, 3:30pm, 5:30pm, 7:30pm Leave Pines 7:25am, 10am, 12pm, 2pm, 4pm, 6pm, 8pm

Leave Cherry Grove 7:25am, 9:50am, 12:40pm, 4pm, 6pm FRIDAY Leave Sayville 7am, 9:25am, 11:25am, 1:30pm, 3:30pm, 5:30pm, 7:30pm Leave Cherry Grove 7:25am, 9:50am, 12pm, 2pm, 4pm, 6pm, 8pm

SATURDAY Leave Sayville SATURDAY 8am, 9:25am, 10:25am, 11:25am, 1:20pm, Leave Sayville 3:20pm, 5:20pm, 6:20pm, 7:20pm, 8am, 9:25am, 10:25am, 11:25am, 1:20pm, 9:30pm 3:20pm, 5:20pm, 7:30pm Leave Cherry Grove Leave Pines 8:25am, 9:55am, 10:55am, 11:55am, 8:25am, 9:55am, 10:55am, 11:55am, 1:50pm, 3:50pm, 5:50pm, 6:50pm, 1:50pm, 3:50pm, 5:50pm, 8pm 7:50pm, 10pm SUNDAY Leave Sayville 8am (will stop in the Grove also), 9:25am, 11:25am, 1:20pm, 3:20pm, 4:20pm, 5:20pm, 6:20pm, 7:20pm

SUNDAY Leave Sayville 8am (will stop in the Pines also), 9:25 am, 10:25am, 11:25am, 1:20pm, 3:20pm, 5:20pm, 6:20pm, 7:20pm, 9:20pm

Leave Pines 8:25am (will stop in the Grove also) 9:50am, 11:50am, 1:50pm, 3:50pm, 4:50pm, 5:50pm, 6:50pm, 7:50pm

Leave Cherry Grove 8:45 am (will stop in the Pines also) 9:50am, 10:50am, 11:50am, 1:50pm, 3:50pm, 5:50pm, 6:50pm, 7:50pm, 9:50pm 32

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4th of July Mini Invasion Photos by Jory Stiefel

@theglassballoon

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