Saturday, September 26, 2015

Antiquing, Part V


Earlier this summer, we stopped by some yard sales, taking part in The Historic US 40 Yard Sale. This yard sale is so long that it stretches from Baltimore, MA all the way to St. Louis, MO. There were definitely some treasures, but instead of the gorgeous finds, I wanted to share the not-so-gorgeous finds.

Because pewter figures never go out. Of. Style. They never go out. Of. Style. That and if you owned this beauty, you shall not pass: my ability to be your friend anymore. 

Here is an example of contrast. The artist wanted you to focus solely on their small faces, using a black wire to shape glasses around their faces that showcases the old-lady style the artist was going for. 

Because baby dolls from the past were always ugly. Always. Did doll manufacturers think if they baby doll looked cute, it would be mistaken for a real baby? "Where's Baby Natalie?" "I'm holding Natalie." *gasp* "This isn't Baby Natalie! How could I have gotten them all confused?" 

The 'Welcome to Our Cabin' sign did not come with the pirate, but if it did: sold!

The $15.50 price is worth the burlesque alone. 

I've decided to purchase this and put it on top of a cake. Or, make it look like it's jumping OUT of a wedding cake. The groom doll will be face down on the table. 

I had this one! 

While at a yard sale, it's always a good idea to search for health care items. Used health care items. Especially this asthma kit. Can you imagine the chapped lips of its former owner? Crusty white flakes of skin peeling of lips as they press against the inhaler. Go on. Buy this and use it!

This one's for all you on the '21 Day Fix.' She's making fitness fun again. Now, go, put on your Reebox high tops and drink a large Shakeology. 

Once you're done downing your Shake-o, pull on that leotard and go for it. 

Do you want to eat cleaner? Susan will help you. Don your potato sack and white pants and get going, Whole Foods isn't open as late as Walmart. 

Do these even work in a modern stapler? Should we ask Milton?

This train farts.