Look, I love America. I really do. I mean, what’s not to love? Freedom, fireworks, potato salad, and the God-given right to let your bits breathe in the open air if that’s what your heart desires. And baby, mine desires it a lot. There is nothing, and I repeat, nothing, more liberating than celebrating the birth of our nation with your butt cheeks flapping in the breeze like two proud bald eagles soaring in formation.

I’ve been a nudist for years, and I’ve had a few very memorable 4th of Julys in that time. Some involved nudist colonies, some involved Janet from next door accidentally seeing my hoo-ha while dropping off a peach cobbler, and at least one involved a minor grease fire, a water hose, and a boyfriend who thought he could grill bratwurst while shirt-cocking. (Spoiler alert: he could not.)

Now, I’m not saying you have to go full nudie to enjoy Independence Day. But if you’re even a little curious about what it’s like to celebrate the most American of holidays with no pants and a plastic cup of sangria in hand, then this book is your new best friend. I’m gonna tell you how to throw a butt-naked bash that’ll go down in history, just like the Declaration of Independence but with more sunscreen.

You’ll learn the do’s and don’ts of nude BBQing (do flip the burgers, don’t lean over the grill unless you want a crispy nipple), how to organize a skinny dip without traumatizing the neighbors, and what to say when your Aunt Carol drops by unannounced and sees a parade of birthday-suited party guests doing the Macarena in your backyard.

Yes, my friends come along for the ride sometimes. Tanya’s always naked and yelling about how her butt is “a national treasure.” Susan once lit a sparkler with her butt cheeks. And Janessa cried when a mosquito bit her nipple for the first time. But mostly, this book is about you and how you too can feel the freedom of living, laughing, and loving with zero tan lines and a whole lotta confidence.

So slap on some SPF, toss those undies in the drawer, and get ready for the most outrageously free Fourth of July of your life. Uncle Sam wants you to be naked. Or at least I do. And honestly, that should be enough.