Since you've been waiting...highlights of my July 4th.

I apologize in advance if you recognize any family members...



The very pregnant lady, smoking on a ciggy while browsing my jewelry. This lady was sad. She was wearing a t-shirt that said "Love Child" while deeply inhaling her cigarette at my booth. She had bad grammar. I know you are shocked.


The comb-over that was really a comb-forward since it started an inch about his back/bottom hair line. OK, Jesus bless Grandpa's heart, but someone needs to convince him to just go bald. Grandpa, just rock that bald head. Just rock it. But for goodness sake, stop combing it forward. The next day, Phillip commented that he wondered if the man had to have someone else do the part for him. Sad.

The 50+ year old lady wearing a black bikini top and white pants. Just wait. Do you think she had the figure for it or not? This lady was wearing some cottony capri pants and a black bikini top. She did not have fat rolls but she did have one large 'man-belly' like a man with a beer gut. It doesn't look as bad in the pic but it was far worse in person.

The guy who kept peeing in his pants. Once, near the porta potty (which would later prove ironic), a man approached me and made conversation. He was smoking a cigar. He was using a cane for help walking because of two hip replacements. He was like 35. He told me he "sits around the house all day, repairin' watches and sleepin', " before I noticed that he REALLY looked like he had peed in his pants. He was carrying a cup from home with a dark liquid, which I am sure was Jack and Coke. We saw him two other times. Each time, over a short time span, he had clearly peed in his pants more and more. UGH. It was sad.

The pill-loopy lady who kept asking if I made my own stones. One of the mornings, a pitiful lady came to my booth. She had clearly eaten a fistful of pills for breakfast. Like loritabs, mepregans, etc. Anyway, she asked me over and over again how I made my own stones, like I was Jesus and said "let there be stones!" She finally got that I didn't make my own stones, but then began to repeatedly ask how I drilled my holes in my 'rocks'.

The man who lives in one of the trailer parks on North Tennessee Blvd. To clarify, he lives in the one where you own your trailer NOT the one where you get ripped off by renting your trailer. He was creepy. Kept wanting to know more about making and selling jewelry and was clearly about to ask for our contact info before we just began ignoring him to help customers.

The Mexi-mullet and the lady that just made me sad for her. This man's hair was almost waist-length...in the back. This lady broke my heart.

This man's shorts came up higher in the front than anything I'd ever seen. Note the brown open-heel sandals and black socks.

PS I am fully aware that I am going straight to hell for making fun of these people.