It was an unusual circumstance in which my companion had an illustrious Thursday off. A Thursday that all the antique stores closed on Tuesday and Wednesdays would be open. AHA! A BUCKET LIST!
And this first one was a riot. We drove all the way there (GPS fucking with me the entire time, because why not) and when we got there we found a building with a very small parking lot of sorts fitting about five cars. It was full. Luckily one of them was leaving, an old couple who seemed VERY confused I was waiting for their spot.
We checked out the yard first. The yard which legitimately had a fire exit… In case all the junk spontaneously combusted I suppose. It was fun junk too. Yard decorations, old street signs, a cross gravestone (with no name – probably either an extra or replaced by something else.) There were some big ceramic jars and a wild assortment of random things all packed into a very small area. It was like being in Maine again!
Inside was much the same. Just really random things all piled up in a small space, the people in the shop talking about how they have to sell things for the price they’re at to make a profit. I don’t know why anyone would try to haggle here, everything already seemed cheap considering the other prices in the area. There was even a drawer full of glass apothecary bottles I had to pry myself away from. Yes, they’re cool, what would you do with them though? MAKE SPELL BOTTLES? You’re not a witch, cool your tits.
There was also a little area for a local glass artist who had some adorable sea creatures. The rest of the shop had everything from old can labels and coupons, to a few creepy masks, to a seriously cool old leather cat carrier. It looked like it had been custom made for Hannibal Lecter’s cat and I looooved it. But alas, I am catless. Woe is me.
All and all I liked this shop. It clashed violently with all the other chichi froufrou upscale antique stores in the area. This was a common man’s store. And there’s nothing wrong with that!
Antique stores in Maine tend to be “junk shops,” usually old barns kept by hoarders who need to prove to the town they’re selling shit, not hoarding it in an unsafe manner. This barn however…. WOW, was it chic!
This was by far the first antique store I’ve ever been to that had an honest to god RACING BOAT. Not a replica, not a toy, an actual goddamn racing boat! As well as an old car, an old Harley, a swank cast iron stove, some terrifying huge store front dolls, the customary Gothic looking pram, an awesome dollhouse made of old cigar boxes, some really weird spicy magazines, and a sweat box. “Great for the kids!” according to the guy running the place. The sweat box was clearly not made for children. It was just a big DIY wooden box with a chair inside and a round hole cut out for an adult’s head to pop out of. Looked like a torture device!
I was really enjoying looking at these peculiar items but I was made a little skittish by the shop keep who was tailing us the entire time, pacing nervously in a manner that was making me wonder if I was about to steal something! Like I could. Everything in here was the size of a washing machine. Not that this was my reasoning for not stealing something, I’m just not a thief, especially of sweet little mom and pop stores! His constant check-ins were the reason my hands weren’t steady when I snapped a VERY blurry photo of the most racist painting I’ve ever seen in my life of a bunch of minstrel-eque/mamie-esqu caricatures chasing their children around with a baseball bat, I guess in retribution because they were smoking cigarettes. The more we looked at it the more we were muttering, “What the actual fuck?” I’m annoyed the photo came out blurry because oooph.
We left empty handed because I’m neither rich nor that racist. I was happy to be out of there. Even though I very much enjoyed looking at the antiques the fact we were being followed the entire time was really amping up my anxiety in a negative way. My companion said to be fair he was close behind everyone in the shop that day, which might be why they all left after a very short visit!
Main street antique stores with well-arranged display cases are fun but as for myself I prefer the quirkier establishments – basement antiques, mill antiques, and of course barn antiques. Much to my delight this store was in a barn out back of a cute little B&B. It was so quintessentially White Mountain-y.
And for being a barn it was WELL ventilated and cool. We saw all sorts of antiques, most of which were clearly linked to the local area. Ancient toys, old farming tools, a couple accordions, even a wooden opium pillow. What wasn’t to love? It was halfway like shopping and halfway like visiting a roadside country museum. I loved every bit of this place from its rustic inventory, to the chickens out back, to the cute little inn next door. It was the perfect way to end our journey into the white mountains and if you’re in the area go check it out! It’s a lot of fun!
Sometimes we end up at destinations just because that’s where our lazy google searches suggest. This one came up because it was the largest antique center in New Hampshire and we figured it’d be worth the drive. And it was! My goodness!
It was two VERY full floors and some of the things here were definitely different from other antique stores! One corner seemed to have a collection of automatic playing pianos, organs, and an old timey wooden telephone booth that looked like it may have been ripped from someone’s 1930’s parlor. Just aside that there was a FULL 1950’s SODA FOUNTAIN COUNTER with stools, shiny equipment, and an endearing menu that included milkshakes, frappes, and root beer floats. I have no idea when they had a server around but it wasn’t today. Sadly. I wouldn’t have minded a root beer float. I was fondly remembering the first time I ordered one in front of a group of horrified Europeans. Apparently, the rest of the world does not lob gobs of ice cream into their soda. Their loss! It’s a fun way to get diabetes. Did I mention the music they were playing here was mostly 1950’s hop music? So. Flipping. Cute.
The rest of the first floor was filled with the usual vendor booths and small items. A lot were clearly marketed towards bikers which made sense as Laconia Bike Week is huuuge every summer. Other books included a fascinating volume of English history, a book on cryptids, and lots of weird recipe books. Scattered among them were a lot of plastic dolls in varying levels of creepiness. There was even a possessed Snow White with red eyes. Why red eyes? No idea. Maybe she was getting ready for Halloween. There was also a tub of 30 naked Barbies for $45 which I had to debate not buying because I really want to start doing creepy doll make overs… the artist in me is bored. Or just procrastinating being an adult. Whatever you believe.
Speaking of letting my inner child play the upstairs was ADORABLE. There were a series of fully set up model trains with complete villages. And hidden among one we found Ninja Turtles protecting the streets from… bad guys? I forgot what Ninja Turtles fight but they were there! So were some dinosaurs. Because we like to be historically accurate these days. There were signs up letting you know when the trains run – only a few hours every weekend. It’s a bleeding shame we were there on a weekday because I think my heart may have melted if they were running.
We left empty handed that day but that’s mostly because I don’t have a cabin in the woods to install an old cast iron cook stove. This place was wonderful and well worth the drive. If you are looking for a little antiquing adventure punctuated with lots of nostalgia you absolutely should check this place out!
We ended our day of antiquing at the Quaboag Valley Antique Center which is in town… and yes I had to badly parallel park in traffic to be anywhere near it which is always added fun! (Pleeeease stop asking me to do this. I am but a simple country bumpkin with no real use of parallel parking skills.)
This place lacked the great size of the Yankee Flea Market but that’s OK. Everything here was fine, cultured, and well displayed. And for the most part it was the usual things you’d find in a shop like this – pretty baubles, fine china, and of course a basement full of furniture. That’s not to say we didn’t find anything interesting because we did… I found a black ventriloquist dummy which, how fucking weird is that?! I always see haunted dolls as being a white person hobby but OK! Happy to bring others onboard! Actually, Twitter told me the dummy was half of the comedy team Willie Tyler and Lester. Lester was the doll and apparently they showed up on Laugh In at one point. Soooo want to see that…
I also found a canary cage, the kind miners would bring canaries into mines with which was almost as morbid as the decrepit doll pram on the other side of the shop. Whhhy do those always call to me?! Oh! And a little metal stove that was silver! I’ve seen dozens of these things before but they’re always cast iron, never silver colored?! Very cool.
Anyway, if you happen to be in town, are in need of good sturdy furniture, or are checking out other antique places in the area this shop might be worth a looksey.
This antique store was the reason we ended up going to The Dinosaur Place – because if we didn’t like the dinosaurs there was always an antique store to pick up the flak. We did very much enjoy both but ooph! This antique store would have been worth it just as a singular destination.
When we walked in it was…. swank. A large building with everything neatly arranged and tasteful music playing softly in the background. You know the sort of place you might wonder if you won’t be kicked out for loitering like that last antique store I ventured into on my own… but the old man at the counter was very sweet and told us all about the basement we should also check out. First though we’d poke at some terribly dramatic Gothic looking furniture and play with some terrifying dolls (an antique store without properly haunted dolls is a failure in my eyes.) And then we stumbled into THE FROG ROOM. A whole room dedicated to frogs! And it just made me so happy. What’s not to love about a swarm of adorable frogs?? Actually, it reminded me of my grandmother. She had hundreds of them in her house… I’d spend hours as a child counting them. Frog bric-o-bracs, frog salt and pepper shakers, frog wall art, frog lawn ornaments… frogs, frogs, frogs. Can’t beat it!
But after this we decided to go check out that basement. And WOW. Yes, it was much larger and seemed to be miles of random antiques. This was more what we were used to. Had a COMPLETELY different feel than upstairs. We poked around every corner – through trees of weird hats, many jars of marbles, and then at the very end we found the trifecta that hit all three categories of shit I like to find. It was a creepy doll, a clown, and racist as fuck. A minstrel doll. WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT THIS IN THEIR HOME?!
We had to have spend a good hour or two down there. The perfect way to round off the day.
“I know where I want to go this week!” “OK, where?”
“Lawrence Mass!”
“….WHY?!”
OK, so it might not be fair but my numerous run ins with Lawrence Mass haven’t left a particularly good taste in my mouth. My first time there the car stalled out in the middle of the night in front of a gas station where the cashier was happily holed up behind a bullet proof window wall. This was long before Covid so it wasn’t there for germs. The only other people around was a roving band of teenagers who looked pretty fucking rough. During another exciting detour I somehow ended up in a psychiatric waiting room in Lawrence where the people watching were… we’ll just say interesting.
So yeah, I wasn’t exactly hopping at the idea of going to Lawrence on purpose. But you know, every city has its good sides and bad sides, maybe it was time to look at it in a gentler light. Apparently there was an antique mall there. I know, the idea of an antique mall in the same vicinity as the above scenario seems preposterous but there it was… in an old mill building, sprawling for thousands of feet on several floors.
And I must admit it is kinda fun to go into a place that could be either amazing or absolutely awful. Keeps you on your toes, you know. And this place was full of surprises. First of all we kinda had a hard time finding the entrance as old mill buildings are like rat’s nests anyway. When we finally figured it out we entered to find an astonishing amount of random junk, very reminiscent of the junk shops in Maine. And then we turned a corner and found the clowns. Hundreds of them, all locked away in a display case with a few paintings spilling out into the general area. It was unnerving. And I like creepy dolls!
After this though we wound our way deeper into the mess and it started to have a healthy mix of junk store, proper antiques, local country chic crafts, and oodles of totally random things. We could have spent a week there picking. I ended up with a Janis Joplin album for $12 which made me super happy. I’d hoped to get some Christmas shopping done here but as sad as it is my family just aren’t as weird as I am and I found nothing to their tastes.
We did however go outside and across the parking lot where we were promised another floor of antiques. They had a completely different flavor. Up there we found lots of swanky furniture and a bunch of salvage items including a giant room full of doors that set off my sense of whimsy. Which one goes to Narnia and which one has a rabbit hole behind it? NOBODY KNOWS. And to make it all the more magical I found a Superman trap! I mean a phone booth. A real phone booth, complete with a phone, for only $900! Man, did that bring back memories.
All and all though this was worth the trip (even thought the GPS was being a total dick and wound me through Boston for no conceivable reason.) And hey, if you have someone who likes either junk or proper antiques this place was appropriate for gift shopping. I took lots of photos but then I lost the memory card. I guess I must have eaten it because it is goooone. Luckily I took a few cell phone snaps that I was sharing with Twitter as I was walking through so this entry won’t be completely naked.
After visiting the cemetery and general store we were all ready to check out the three antique stores, The Town Trader, The Old Post Office Antiques, and Old Stone Mill Antiques and Treasures, that exist right next to each other in the reportedly highly haunted little village of Chepachet RI. It couldn’t have been a more perfect day. The sky was bright and blue, the weather was fair, and everyone was in a good mood after coming out of a long winter.
I am used to going “antiquing” in Maine where I can find dirt cheap treasures in mounds of rusted junk piles. So far my visits to Rhode Island antique stores were far more refined and expensive so I figured Chepachet would be no exception but it really was. These antique stores all sold a variety of goodies for exceptionally reasonable prices. Everything from old cast iron pans, creepy probably possessed clown dolls, old paintings, furniture, and random little piles of vinyl records. And they were all located in very old buildings which were a delight to poke around. The Old Stone Mill antique store had the most to offer as far as ambiance with its exposed post and beams, wooden floors, and masonry. Clearly this was once the heart of this whole area and you could feel the history emanating from it.
On this particular day I didn’t end up coming home with anything although I had strongly considered a cast iron “pancake ball” pan as my travel companion called it. It was Swedish and I was unfamiliar with the particular word on the label but I’d like to hope it translates as pancake balls because that’s hilarious. He did end up going home with an old copy of a Julia Childs cookbook which we’d later flip through and see if ANY of the recipes were devoid of butter. Clearly we’re both easily entertained. And nostalgic of growing up on a steady diet of PBS.
And speaking of food – we were able to walk a little ways down the street and eat lunch at the Black Forest Café which was the best way to round out the afternoon. I had a turkey and gouda sandwich and my companion had a Rueben. We both behaved ourselves and didn’t get a slice of cheese cake or any of the other delicious looking goodies at the dessert counter.
Another day, another fantastically unending antique mall, filled to the brim with anything and everything my twisted heart could desire. This shop used to be an old roller skating rink but now hosts a great number of different vendors. In typical Maine fashion you will find lots and lots of random junk probably collected by a hoarder, tons of truly bizarre folk art and oddities, and the occasional tasteful antique for an equally tasteful price. This is one of my favorite places to hit when I am up here because it’s always full to the brim and the people are always charming and friendly (that goes for the customers as much as it does the dealers!)
Sooooo….. what did I find today? Well, it started with this delightfully demonic cat lamp…
“LOOK UP!” my mother kept yelling at me. “WHY?! Is something about to fall on me?!” No, there’s just a horrified baby doll hawking cigarettes up there.
Speaking of demonic cats…. This one is made out of “Real feline goat hair.” It’s as surprised as we are.
Maine is a great place to go if you collect racist black history artifacts. Most antique stores usually have a piece or two but Maine doesn’t hide them in the back room… This one struck me as even more “off” than usual! It reads, “My it shure am sweet!”
Then this was nearby. “HOLY SHIT, a black doll that looks human….” Carved from wood this was by far the least terrifying doll on offer.
Then I found this white doll shitting itself making a pouty face. Can’t really blame it. It was cuddled up with a black baby doll… and well… hatred is learned people!
Which brings me to this “topsy turvy doll….” which I think is some sort of liberal’s idea of teaching their kids equality…. but really, at the end of the day, it’s just a naked bi-racial conjoined twin from the Twilight Zone.
Here we have a nun converting all the heathen native children… and Batman. Because Batman is totally cool with that sort of thing.
Heeeeey, it’s Burger King…. before the make-over….. just WOW….
And then I came across this little orange haired clown doll… and I actually thought it was kind of cute. Everyone else was screaming in horror.
“LOOK UP! It’s Bugs Bunny!” I don’t believe that for a second. Why is the carrot glowing like that??
This sophisticated pig says you’re made of bacon.
This little white doll has been kidnapped and dressed in the garb of an Indian. Now he’s sad.
AHHH! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD KILL IT!!
Fun trivia fact: Little Miss Muffet was the daughter of a notorious entomologist who bred deadly deadly spiders in his lab.
Remember when Steamboat Willie got Bloat? Yeah, me either.
The look of absolute disgust on this little gent’s face… it’s almost like he heard another doll reciting the original version of Catch a Tiger by the Toe….
Here’s a bunch of African animals lined up behind a meat grinder.
I don’t know what heinous crime this little fella just committed but whatever it was I think I’m OK with it.
This elk looks a little too chill to be dead. He’s like someone’s reincarnated prankster uncle…
Now welcoming the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Doll. Limited granny edition.
I remember when I was a child I loved cuddling into bed to listen to my mother read me Snow White and the Demonic Squirrel...
Slightly morbid, Joe. Slightly morbid.
Hey! Look! It’s me fucking around!
Again I am not sure who this is supposed to be offending. It looks like a Mariachi band led by a really fat Native American woman…?
GNOMES!!! I know what you’re saying, “You’re terrified of dolls but you love gnomes?!” YES, YES I DO. And not just because their great grand daddy is supposed to be Priapus the ever-erect Greek God of Embarrassing ER Visits.
Remember when Irish Catholics weren’t considered “white.” *whistles*
PIXIES! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!
I’m not sure what just happened in this little scene…. but that little boy is crying and I feel like I need a shower.
What can still suck out your soul that isn’t a haunted doll? A haunted painting of a child…. I would not hang this in my house if you paid me.
Mother: “Look a gay couple!”
Me: “THOSE ARE BUTLERS.”
I don’t know what “gall salve” is but I question the legitimacy of rubbing it on my horse.
Here’s the Prince of Maine… in case you’re wondering…. Maine totally had a prince once and this is Him. His reign was toppled when the schoolyard bully smudged mud on his velvety suit and made him eat worms.
I’m always amused by the random unnamed photos in antique stores. This one isn’t even that old. There’s probably some guy out there, we’ll call him Dave, that is wandering by going, “HEY! THAT’S FUCKING ME! WHY IS MY PHOTO HANGING IN AN ANTIQUE STORE?!”
I don’t know who this little darling is either…. but I don’t trust her….
GAWD, those pixies are everywhere!! Going to have to invest in some Fairy Spray.
Betty Boop WOULD NEVER.
A surprisingly noble stuffed turkey…
Ever had a significant other that kept lamenting, “You make me want to shoot myself!” This is the perfect gift for them. Caffeine and guns. Can’t go wrong.
I have no idea why the scalp of Charlie Chaplin and some random Mountie are 50% off… but that seems like a deal!
Another probably haunted painting… Can you get higher insurance rates on things that are possessed?
Giggling. Killer. Corn.
Finally, this pooch is guaranteed to work better than an actual guard dog…
Since I was already in the area cooing at my submersible friends at AquaCorals, I decided I would stop at an antique mall just down the street. I was told by locals it was huge and would take me at least two hours to rummage through. They were not kidding! This was an enormous building, several old industrial barns I think, with five winding labyrinthine floors. It just kept going and going and going… They had something for everyone here. If you’re familiar with my blog you probably already know what I was looking for – anything really bizarre and a light smattering of soul sucking dolls. I was not disappointed! And since there’s not really much more I can say on the topic I decided this entry will be a little… different. So I am taking my favorite photos of the hundreds I took and am just going to add a little…. commentary. If you’re easily offended this is probably the point you should leave this page, otherwise continue on!
Literally the first thing I saw was a giant cock… no really, isn’t he handsome? If I still ran a poultry farm he would have so come home with me.
After entering the store I stumbled onto this HUGE moose head with the most amusing sign behind him… It reads, “Hunting $50.00 per day, by written permission only.” I’m not a hunter but I sort of think this one’s already spent.
Then I found an album of what is most likely some of my distant relatives…. though this woman has a striking resemblance to Lizzie Borden and I wonder….
Followed by a set of terrifying patriotic mugs…
By this time my mother, who was tagging along in today’s adventures, was rifling through the old photos when she came across this one and finally admitted they might actually be relatives of ours…
I may have replied if I weren’t distracted by a series of pots who appeared to be blooming? Seriously though, what is up with the one on the far left?? It’s going to burst!
Two seconds later I got the sensation someone was watching me and when I turned around I found out it was Amelia Earhart. Huh.
Then I started running into the…. randomly probably quite racist items. I don’t even know which minority this is supposed to be offending. It looks like an old Asian dude wearing an Indian feather…?!
Then I found the saddest lion glued to a hot air balloon! I think he was sad because the hunter on the left shot his family…
“Pediophobia is the unwarranted, irrational and persistent fear or worry of dolls.” Why do I mention this? Oh no reason….
There is no word for the rational fear of dolls but I believe there should be. Just look at this doll and tell me there isn’t something a wee bit off there.
Of course dolls don’t always kill people. Sometimes they take out their murderous rage on other dolls. Evidence of this can be seen here. Witness the empty pram, the demonically smiling blonde looking up at the light like she just sacrificed a baby to the gods – OH LOOK! To the lefthand corner we can see the crumpled corpse of an infant! SHE DID. SHE TOTALLY SACRIFICED THAT BABY!
This doll knows something we don’t, maybe he’s next…
A common trick for serial killer dolls is to leave something shiny out for potential victims to be distracted by… Oooooo!
AHHHH! Those soulless eyes!
No worries, this next one’s asleep – and I am terribly confused by it. Just… why??
Hey look! It’s a me! I’m not for sale though. Sorta like Alice from Alice’s Restaurant. You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant, excepting Alice…
“Coulrophobia is the persistent and irrational fear of clowns.”
Coulropediophobia is the persistent and irrational fear of clown dolls. (Also I may have just made that up but it seems like it should be a thing…)
Here’s a cow who has apparently been eating cow flops…. Maybe the doll behind him was bullying him?
The eighties were a weird time when little girls across the country all bounded for joy to have their very own Little Miss Prosti-Tot. Her first name is Trix.
“Look! I found a re-borne! Its heavy! And cute! IT HAS DROOL!” — “Mom, put that down. It looks like it came from the morgue.”
I know this post is getting a little doll heavy but look at these giggling ankle biters…. tell me they won’t haunt your dreams tonight…
I have no idea what’s going on here…. and something tells me I don’t want to… look at that shocked expression in the back corner!
This one just ate someone’s heart, I swear, ripped it right out of their chest. That’s why she’s so gleeful.
OK OK, time to stop staring at the dolls and hope they aren’t like Weeping Angels, you know coming to kill you as soon as you blink. Look! A weird ENORMOUS painting of a moth! And a lock! How manly! It’s art for menly men!
And of course it’s not a real antique store if there isn’t any froofy furniture… I have for you, a chair, the first of many, but don’t worry, I won’t linger like I did with the dolls.
I was actually kind of impressed with this next one. It’s a bird made entirely of seeds. I call it a seedling.
I rubbed it and made three wishes. All that happened is I got thrown out for molesting the lamps.
Never trust a nun. Never trust a nurse. And never trust a cat. (Also never trust someone with too many Doctor Who jokes.)
That last rhyme said nothing of hares…. but this one doesn’t look trustworthy either.
“OK, I need you to make me a butter dish in the shape of a terrified cat…. make sure to add googly eyes.”
I’m at a lack of words for this next one. Well sort of. I mean I have words…. I just don’t think I should use them. A picture is worth a thousand after all…
Shout out to all the Mass girls…
I’m going to kill you thiiiiiiis much!
Here are some Humbolt figurines telling each other stories of lurid debauchery.
“Can’t sleep, clown’s going to eat me. Can’t sleep, clowns going to eat me.”
For a second I forgot this place actually had legitimately not-scary things for sale…
I actually sort of like this lamp…. which makes no sense since dolls and Cherubs freak me out so much…
Bet you didn’t know UnDead dolls were a thing…
PUPPY!!
Yes, if you want your crank phone to work… add wires. Always add wires.
“All the better to strangle you with!”
I found Liberace’s dinnerware…
I am as surprised as you are – granted I don’t have a bottle shoved up my backside… so maybe not.
Two old tribesmen…. fighting over CDs…. (Seriously the label said this was a CD rack…)
My eye was caught by some really sweet purple bottles…. and then I started reading them. This one literally says “2oz Sperm” which had me concerned for a moment before I continued to read “sewing machine oil.”
Unless you collect buttons you have no idea how impressive this is…
HOLY CRAP. WHAT A BEAUTIFUL CHUNK OF ORANGE… I must be delirious from the heat! (It is actually 94 degrees and muuuuuuuugggggy, so this may be a hallucination. Either way I don’t have $45 or a place to put such a wonder…)
OK, now I am positive I am hallucinating because that wall hanging looks like Wilfred, that crude smack-talking Australian dude in a dog outfit…
PLEASE NO homoerotic displays “DANCING” Coincidentally this sign also reminded me of this scene:
The Doctor: We were talking about dancing.
Captain Jack: It didn’t look like talking.
Rose Tyler: It didn’t feel like dancing.
I’m not going to ask what he’s spitting out.
OH HELL NO. FETCH ME THE FLY SWATTER!! QUICK!!
I found a soulless cocker spaniel. Who knew!
Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar? No one, because no one dared…. holy crap is this thing scary!
A tiny doll mink trap!
This doll is not amused by that last joke. She knew another doll whose porcelain ankle was shattered by a doll mink trap once…
My mother, “I had a doll exactly like this once!” Damned if I didn’t know that – her brother bought it for her when they were children and her other brother ripped off its fingers. She kept the fingers in a tiny drawer hoping someday to glue them back on but then the doll got ruined or thrown out or something and all that was left were tiny tiny disembodied fingers…. which I found later. You know what? This could begin to explain my ill ease with dolls…
WHY?!
LOVE the sign behind these two soulless dears. “Visitors of hotel guests MUST LEAVE.” Must be the hotel California.
“Last thing I remember, I was Running for the door I had to find the passage back to the place I was before ‘Relax’ said the night man, ‘We are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like, But you can never leave!'”
There’s too many things in this next work of art that rattle me to the core for me to even begin explaining…
He’s just pissed he’s been stored in a box surrounded on all sides by honky music.
I legitimately thought these were artful renditions of the TARDIS at first…
Another small dead child.
I’m being alerted I haven’t offended enough Asian people in this post soooo…
Look! A jaundiced pig! Who’s up to something.
Anyone remember being read Babushka’s Doll as a child? Also, you know what, my fears of dolls is starting to really make sense now.
Butt nuggets Cookies!!
He’s seen too much.
Uhmmm…. that’s not where salt comes from….
This bitch is too classy for this joint.
What’s that? I also haven’t offended enough black people? OK, we’ll just see what this doll has to say about that!
The only two realistic looking black dolls ARE NOT AMUSED by that last joke. In fact they’re not amused by anything. Whose idea was it to make a series of depressed children’s dolls anyway?
Paradise Lost? “WAKE UP EVE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WAKE UP!”
Did you know Native Americans are devils? Me either.
OK the Viking ship is kind of impressive… though I don’t think wooden sails sounds like such a great idea.
These two little gents got their portrait painted after they murdered the rest of their family and took a break to smoke a pipe. Seriously though, why is the little one smoking a pipe?! And are those really cemetery crosses?!
Ah, that’s better, a pony.
I found this cabinet, which I really liked, buuut I think it’s haunted. No reason, just a swirling feeling in my gut…
Just to be sure I opened it to let the ghosts out.
Remember when I said the first thing I saw was a giant cock? Well, the last thing I saw leaving was two giant cocks. Hope you enjoyed my little jaunt, until next time!
Since I was already in the area cooing at my submersible friends at 
