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The fabric of our nation comes from many looms. Celebrate the diversity that makes this country incredible with this American flag tee graced with subtle weaving patterns of the American southwest.
Take history-making style with you in a fascinating new way. When the bikini made its celebrated official debut in Paris on July 5th, 1946, it shook the fashion world! Prepare to shake the fashion world again with our Bossa Nova Brazilian Bikini Scrap Bag!
Handmade with multi-color scraps of recycled bikini fabric in Brazil, this purse is a fitting tribute to both the original material and the non-stop excitement of Brazil and Bossa nova music. Spacious interior compartment is lined with plastic mesh, making it perfect for a day at the beach!
Life, like a good knife, is all about seeking a perfect mix of utility and aesthetics. One part meets the necessary functions of living, and one part is the art you make of it.
Podforge knives show a deftness and attention to detail consistent with the best traditions of knifemaking around the world. Each piece Dietrich Podmajersky produces is a personal statement, a testament of his love for the form. But don’t let their pretty looks fool you–these are serious knives, the kind you could use to break down a Caribou carcass out on the tundra.
Adventure waits for no one!
Once, we were heroes.
Then life happened.
Recapture the magic.
Answer the call. Pick up the dice.
Experience what a concierge Dungeon Master can do for you.
Originally created and sold by Beich’s as caramels, they were really just fruit flavored taffy, somewhat bigger than a Starburst, and chewier. They were acquired by Wonka at some point in the seventies, and then Wonka was in turn acquired by Nestle in 1988. There were other flavors: sour apple, grape, fruit punch, and cherry come to mind. There are a total of seven flavors now, adding watermelon and blue raspberry to the mix as well. But the banana…wow…I don’t know why, exactly, but those were something special.
Part of it might have been mouth-feel. There was something silky about it. And no, it didn’t really taste like banana. Not really. There is something more banana than banana in the experience. After eating a Laffy Taffy, the real deal feels a little bit like a letdown. The fake banana flavor is a point of contention among the candy crowd. A good chemist friend of mine can rattle off the chemical name for that flavor. She knows exactly what’s in those delightful chewy treasures, and she loves them as much as me.
I like to think from time to time that there has to be a good chocolate & cherry candy out there somewhere. The two flavors work really well together in theory. I get a cherry mocha at the Wayward once and a while, and the Cherry Garcia Ice Cream from Ben & Jerry’s is pretty damn good. But Cherry Cordials are, in a word, disgusting. In two words, fucking disgusting.
I can still remember my first experience with a Cordial. I thought it had gone bad, somehow. It was, I recall, the first time I had ever spit out a piece of chocolate. It was the goo more than anything else. From the outside, it looks like you’re in for a pleasant truffle-like experience. Then the teeth crack that chocolate shell, and sweet, viscous goo spills into your mouth.
But there’s no chicken in Chick-O-Stick. No, imagine the core of a Butterfinger, but thinner and rolled in ground coconut. That’s a Chick-O-Stick: a flaky, crunchy morsel of nutty sweetness. The only other candy out there like it is the Zagnut (a full sized bar that passed through many hands before ending up at Hershey where it retains a niche status due to uneven distribution). The Chick-O-Stick comes in a variety of sizes, even little bite-sized pieces that come individually wrapped in bags distributed by Sathers in the 2/$1.00 or 59 cents each model. It doesn’t matter the size. This is a sublime, crumbly mouthful of goodness.
Now here’s the strange thing…at least for me. I don’t remember my introduction to the Chick-O-Stick. I don’t have any specific memories around them. They were just there, always available at the local Circle-K down the street. I know they must have stood out visually, since they weren’t wrapped in those opaque cellophane wrappers like candy bars, or in boxes like Hot Tamales or Junior Mints. The wrapping is clear, displaying the weird, mummy-finger candy plainly. And even as a kid, I was drawn to the weird. And let’s face it, kids aren’t that discriminating. Candy is candy, sugar is sugar. Unless it has some strong, weird flavor like black licorice or the bitterness of Hershey’s Special Dark, most kids would suck down anything marketed at candy. And I happened to like the black licorice and dark chocolate (and this will be the subject of separate post down the road).
If this album stumbles it’s in some of the more down-temp numbers. “The Way That I’ve Come” for instance is technically well done, it just didn’t grab me. And “Fog Country,” has great lyrics, I mean, really great lyrics. But while the bluesy ramble of the melody suits it well, I found myself just waiting for the next rocker. That said, an album full of rockers gets tired as hell (coughAC/DCcough), so bravo for showing us a range.
Pretty much without exception, Pearsall and his band swagger through the album with confidence. I imagine big hair, velvet pantsuits with wide collars, maybe leather pants and a puffy paisley shirt. I imagine a cocky sneer, wit, and energy. Ignore the picture of the shaggy-headed singer/songwriter on the cover. I’m certain it’s a filthy lie to avoid scaring someone’s grandparents. I know what I hear on this album.
If you had told me ten years ago that “Ukulele Girls” would be a thing, I would have mentally filed your opinions in the category reserved for Y2K believers and Holocaust deniers. But mysteriously, the ukulele has become standard issue for hipster girls with clunky glasses, vintage style dresses, and awkwardly overwrought adorkableness.
Which, honestly, I don’t have a big problem with. I figure the more people creating art and music, the better place the world is. And I’ve loved the ukulele since seeing Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters play “Tonight You Belong to Me” in The Jerk (1979). Really…35 years ago, and that song is still goddamned magical. But to illustrate how ubiquitous the ukulele girl phenomenon is, searching for a video of the aforementioned song turned up Zooey Deschanel & Ben Schwartz playing the same song. Feel free to skip it, but Martin & Peters is well worth checking out.
Cobalt City, Jewel of New England, has been the home of superheroes since the first people settled on the rocky shore. But as the old heroes move away, die, or retire, it falls to a new generation to step up and bear the burden—protecting Cobalt, and the world, from the nefarious plans of madmen and malicious Gods. Join a diverse band of new teen heroes as they pick up the mask, challenge destiny, and dare to become legends.
Wrecker of Engines by Rosemary Jones features Morgan Lee, a young immigrant from Hong Kong who has come to Cobalt City to escape enemies he has made among the crime syndicates back home, and to research the history of a family he has only heard whispers about. Discovering the truth of his past will require him to create a new family of allies, especially when the secrets he seeks are in danger of being swept away by a steampunk villain seeking vengeance denied for over a century.
Tatterdemalion by Nikki Burns features Miranda, a girl who survived a plane crash in the Alaska wilderness and a month alone waiting for rescue only to discover the strength, and costume, she found there has its own agenda. Upon her return to Cobalt City, she discovers that mysterious blackouts and teen gangs have turned the city into chaos. And the Alaskan tundra is not nearly as unforgiving as the social circles at her new school. It will take the collective wisdom of the Parliament of Rags that inhabit her costume and the resolve Miranda earned in the wilds to bring the fight to her faceless enemy.
Kensei by Jeremy Zimmerman features Jamie Hattori, a headstrong young woman caught between worlds on a journey of self-discovery. With a stolen sword and a gift for speaking to spirits, she is wearing herself out balancing school, roller derby, a budding teen romance, and protecting the Karlsburg neighborhood of Cobalt City. The spirits have a warning—evil is coming, heralded by mysterious golden apples, a vicious gossip blog, and bloodsucking owls. How can one girl expect to challenge the will of ancient gods—especially when there’s a Chemistry test on Friday?
Once a year, thirty racers gather from all over the world to compete in an illegal cycle race from Mexico to Canada. Big money and bigger bragging rights go to the winner of the Devil’s Run International. Some would do anything to win–even murder.
It falls to Manuel de la Vega and his vigilante alter ego Gato Loco to find this murderer among madmen. Or his friend Xander Tesla might be the next victim.
Follow de la Vega and his panda sidekick Snowflake for a high-octane thrill ride up the Pacific coast, where danger waits around every bend, and death comes at you at 200 miles an hour!