Every now and then, my husband and I start itching to go to a flea market. Several weeks ago, we sashayed down to the Henderson Street Bazaar in Fort Worth (1000 N Henderson St.) to see what they had going on there.
We love garage sales and flea markets … don’t y’all? Raise y’allses hands if you have ever been to a flea market. Don’t argue with me about my vocabulary, now, because “y’allses” is a word in my neck of the woods. I think it is plural possessive, but don’t get me to lying. I do not have a t-shirt that states, “I are a English major” because I ain’t.
Where was I? Oh, yes. the Henderson Street Bizarre Bazaar. When we walked in, I pulled out my trusty Canon XTI camera and started snapping pictures. Now, let me tell you that I am not a photographer. I’m a “wannabe.” I’d love to be able to take artsy-fartsy photos, but my skills are weak, and my eye gravitates to the ridiculous. There was plenty of the ridiculous at this flea market.
I was enthralled by taking pictures of the man blowing bubbles at the door.
Bubble Man
As I snapped away, my husband was giggling like a little kid. We walked on a few feet, and he started trying to communicate with me through closed lips and teeth. Try clamping your teeth shut and saying, “Didzhoozeedat? He ad a vohng!”
I said, “Do whut?”
In a very loud stage whisper, he repeated, “Didzhoozeedat? He ad a vohng!”
“Honey,” I said. “Don’t quit your day job, because you have nothing on Jeff Dunham. You are not a ventriloquist! What in Thunder are you saying?”
“Did you see that? ” he said. “He had a bong!”
“No way,” I cried. To my husband’s utter embarrassment, I marched right back and snapped a picture. Sure enough …
He DID ave a vohng
You could have knocked me over with a feather. I bet you could have found a feather to use to knock me over at that flea market, but I was distracted by other items for sale.
I had to wonder why anyone thought there was a market for used underwear. They called them, “vintage,” but semantic acrobatics don’t change the facts.
These didn't blow my dress up
But, then I saw these sequined bras and almost fell for buying one.
For days when you can't get enough attention
I have a collection of mannequins at my house. The “girls” usually are topless (to the chagrin of my little sister). I figured I could dress the girls’ “girls” in these … but my sister would still be appalled.
Can any of y’all explain to me why people feel the need to put their names on a t-shirt?
Truth in advertising
Shouldn't that be B.S.?
I would not be caught dead in that jersey shown above, nor would I wear the cowboy boots I saw at one booth. I was attracted by the bright colors and thought I should probably get a pair of boots. After all, I’m a Texan … but I don’t own a pair of cowboy boots! That’s almost unpatriotic.
As I got closer, I saw that every stinkin’ one of them had the initials “B.M.” stitched on the front. Why? After all, they are cowboy boots … you should be able to smell from a mile away the “cow pie” that the cowboy encountered.
We saw everything under the sun at that flea market, but there was very little that tempted me. I already have a houseful of junk. In fact, I kept nudging my husband saying, “I threw one of those away a few years ago! Have they been raiding our trash?” One person’s trash is another’s treasure, and those folks are welcome to my trash. I have very eclectic garbage.
There was one selection of items that would have fit nicely with all the strange things I have at my house. I think they were only for display, but if I had asked, I bet I could have bought them. At a flea market, everything is for sale for the right price. If I had a few of these mannequin derrieres , I would display them proudly.
Butt, I NEED these!
I can just envision a line of these mannequin behinds standing by my front door. If my sister thinks that my topless mannequins are scandalous, I’d love for her to get a load of these when I got through with them!
If you are in need of a “flea market fix,” the Henderson Street Bazaar is open rain or shine. There are roofs over all the booths for your shopping convenience. You might find something you like there. All I chose to bring home was a camera filled with silly pictures.
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{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
Given the “girls” you already have at home and the derriers you could have bought, you could have really scandalized the sister by lining them up to play the William Tell Overture:
rump titty rump titty rump rump rump
Now if you had bought the bras and story telling stopped being gratifying, you would be all set for a new career as a stripteaser.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFRSawe33sA
Jamie´s last blog ..Gravedigger
You are so naughty
. I don’t think I wanna be a stripteaser, though. I could probably get paid NOT to strip….
You know that there is an entire wall of “vongs” right behind him, right? All those plastic tubes are in fact, vongs.
Robin from Israel´s last blog ..Muristan Fountain
What???? I didn’t see that? Are you talking through your teeth? You must have an accent, Robin, because those are “vohngs” not vongs. And, how did you know that?
You say vohngs, I say vongs, tomato, tomahto…
However you say it, all those I Dream of Genie type bottles up there are them. You’ll just have to trust me on this one
.
Robin from Israel´s last blog ..Silence
LOL, i couldn’t stop laughing about your mannequin posts. It was just recently i made the same comment to my wife about their butts.
The mannequins butts have been much rounder than in the past
thomas´s last blog ..Harley Davidson Unisex Little Kid Big Kid Boot