(W) Joe Caramagna (A) Gianfranco Florio, Paolo Campionoti, Andrea Greppi, Roberta Zanotta (CA) Marco Ghiglione

DuckTales (woo-hoo) returns! Featuring beloved characters like Uncle Scroohge, Donald Duck, and Huey, Dewey, and Louie, this new #0 issue is the perfect jumping-on point for fans old and new in anticipation of the brand-new Disney XD TV series coming Summer 2017! Experience the wackiest, quackiest hijinks in two brand (Duck) Tales!

In Shops: Jul 19, 2017

dutch gothic
  • You go to HEMA for office supplies. You go to HEMA for bed sheets. You go to HEMA for bread. You go to HEMA always, for everything, every day. There is no other shop. There is only HEMA.

  • You cycle to school. You cycle to HEMA. You cycle to your friends. You cycle to the big city closest to your tiny town. You cycle to the train station. You cycle to your grandparents. Your bike has broken down more times than you can count, yet, you keep cycling.

  • You take public transport to somewhere too far away to cycle. You’re inexplicably unnerved by this fact. You look out the window and you spot a mill on green stretches of land. You see another mill and another mill and another. You’re approaching the city center. Still, you see mills. You accept this, as everyone seems to do.

  • You enter Utrecht central station. You wonder if you are on an airport. You walk along the platforms, heading for platform 1. You don’t notice 6 and 10 and 13 are missing: no one ever does. And if they do, they don’t question this. Hours pass. You’re still walking toward platform 1. You thank god NS makes sure the trains are always late, so you’ll make it just in time. You arrive at the platform. “+10” it days on the sign. You sigh. You wait another 10 minutes and look again. “+20”, it says.

  • At the end of the basis school you take The Test. Your parents are more nervous than you. They tell you this Test dictates your entire future. The news tells you the same in a grave, slightly more ominous voice. You’re twelve years old.

  • When you’re in middelbare school, you notice the seniors suddenly disappear for approximately two weeks each year to perform a secret ritual in the largest room of the building. There are signs outside of this room warning you not to enter. You are frightened as the years pass, senior year coming increasingly closer; your fate uncertain as you finally enter the Forbidden Room. You cry. It’s the two most nerve-wrecking weeks of your life.

  • Everyone wants to go on holiday to the united states. Only a few chosen (read: rich) go. You ask them how it was and they tell you strange tales of shops other than HEMA, such as “target” and “costco”; of guns on display in supermarkets; how no one owns a bike. You stare, shaken, in disbelief and shock.

  • It’s the first real day of summer. It’s 20°C and kind of cloudy. You go to the beach. Everyone goes to the beach. You’re stuck in traffic for hours: everyone is headed for the same beach.

  • When you get to the beach, the water is cold as ice and there are jellyfish in the water. There are jellyfish on the sand. There are jellyfish in that shallow pool over there. There are jellyfish everywhere. You come back the next day. The jellyfish have vanished.

  • You’re sitting in the sun under a half broken windscreen. A few meters away, a boy is digging a hole. This means that the boy is german, you’ve learned. You look to your left. There, another german man digging a hole. And another. You smile ruefully. What would the beach be without germans digging holes? This is all very normal.

  • You go on holiday to another country. People think you’re german. You’ve accepted this. People always think you’re german. I’m Dutch, you say. They don’t understand. They laugh. You’re from germany right? They ask.

  • Stroopwafels seem to have built an international reputation. Foreigners adore them. You don’t understand. They’re cookies. Very good ones, yes. But the adoration for anything Dutch is something you cannot grasp.

  • There is a song about a guy named Herman reading in the newspaper that the man he’d sold his car to has crashed it and died. Everyone think Herman is dead, though. This makes him very happy. No one questions this fact. No one wonders if he tells his family he’s alive. No one asks who identified the body. Everyone knows the lyrics to this song.

23.07.16 Its been two days too long since I uploaded a picture but because it’s the summer holidays I’m not doing any proper studying! This is a sneak peek to the stationery haul I’m doing next week! Coming up is a driving test masterpost as well! My mum and I have been cutting back some bushes at the front of my house and I want to put them in my flower press. Also, I bought this books of Hans Christian Anderson’s fairy tales from a charity shop and it has “Christmas 1953” written on the inside.

naming a candy store after hansel & gretel seems kind of.. morbid like imagine the titular characters from said fairytale just.. going on to open a candy store. after.. all of the events of that tale.. candy shop owners who moonlight as witch hunters…


It is a myth, of course, nothing more. 

Tales of a mysterious underground shop run by an immortal—perhaps undead—proprietor who peddles impossible and implausible goods have circulated for decades among the templars. Now and then, a zealous or curious knight will go looking for the place to no avail. Stories place the Black Emporium in Kirkwall’s Darktown, the sewers of Val Royeaux, in the back of an empty boathouse in Llomerryn, at the top of a tower in Marnas Pell, and hidden beneath the skirts of the giant statue of Andraste at the Merdaine. 

No reputable source has ever found it and none ever will, because it does not exist.

Tales from the pawn shop pt1(a lil long)

So back when I was 18 I worked in an “upscale”(the owners were desperate to have their chain appear cleancut and not at all seedy)pawnshop chain for about 4 to 5 months. I have lot of stories from my time there but lets start with my first customer.

My first month or so at the shop I was an inventory goblin. The store manager wanted to hire me but one of the bosses wanted me to have a probationary period. After my time reorganizing inventory, and cleaning and recleaning what must have been atleast a hundred copies of Madden(varying years) I was allowed to work on the sales floor at the jewelry counter(still in probationary). I had to be cleaning something, cataloging something, or helping someone cosntantly because there was always something. Lots of busy work.

We were slow so i was zipping around trying to get as much done as possible so i could focus when the customers started coming in.

The way the counter was set up if you were cleaning anything you had to have your back turned the the counter and the register area was in your periphery on your right. I had been turning around routinely to make sure i wasn’t accidentally ignoring anyone. Then out of no where i heard stage whispers to my left. Some of the guys at the register had my back and were gesturing behind me.

A man and his wife had come up and seemed to be looking intently but hadn’t asked for help. So i turned around and started to apologize and ask if they were looking for anything in particular. Apparently stuttering out of nervousness was the wrong thing to do.

Before i can finish this guy starts mocking me.

“Oh you’re sorry? Sorry, S-s-sorry?” His wife is looking at me sympathetically and trying to get her husband to be polite.

The wife tells me they are looking for a wedding band for him, yellow gold, something simple. He had lost his after he had put it aside to be repaired (they were probably early 50s so not unusual to lose or need a repair).

So i start showing them rings, trying to get a good idea of their price range etc. We had a store policy that if you were not the jewelry manager or a store manager you could only have one to two pieces of jewelry on the counter at a time when showing customers. It was to try and prevent theft. You could make the judgement call if it was a slow day (oh boy was it)to take take out a tray if needed but i was trying to avoid that since i was the only one at counter and everyone but our manager had gone on break at this point.

So at first im trying to show them rings one or two at a time and the husband gets frustrated with me because apparently indicating which band he wants to see instead of just saying “the yellow one” was too difficult.

His wife, gods bless her, was a peach but he just couldn’t be placated so i took the main tray of mens bands and put them on the counter.

This whole time im showing them rings, answering his wife’s questions about our layaway plan and other inventory. Her husband keeps grumbling about how its all too expensive especially for a pawn store.

Like dude the merchandise isn’t blood stained and jewelry doesn’t really deppriciate in value, for what it is, it is reasonably priced. Not to mention he was looking at some of the heaviest weighted solid yellow gold in the store so yeah its gonna be pricier than a gold plated band.

All i can really do is give him my lowest allowed price or ask if he’d like me to ask our jewelry manager(also the store manager) if she’d Be willing to go lower. Once inventory has been sitting a while, even jewelry, sometimes it would need repricing via the manager (on probation you are only allowed to price silver and watches)and this is typically the situation that would necessitate that.

So i ask them if they’d like my manager’s offer on several different rings.
Everytime his wife starts to say yes and he cuts her off and snaps at me about how i shouldn’t be assuming they can’t afford it.

I wanna say “Really? You are the one complaining about expense. I’m not assuming you can’t afford it, I am trying to find a piece you will like for a price you like based on your input.” But i just kept smiling.

After some more of this the husband seems to quiet down and grow some manners, at which point the wife goes off to look at our laptops, and ask the front about a camera.

I go to put back the main tray of mens bands and bring out the smaller tray, as the husband had asked to seek something else. Then he starts gesturing to me, flipping his hands. Im unsure as to what he wants, at this point he grabs my hand.

Im freaking out internally cause i don’t like to be touched but im doing the customer service grin and asking the husband if he likes my rings and wants to see our silver section.

This is where it gets good.

He keeps turning my hand over looking at my palm and the back, not actually speaking or inspecting my rings. Then he asks me:

“How do you get all these rings on and off when your fingers are so fucking fat?”

Now as i was probationary, i didn’t want to try to kick anyone out. It reflects poorly on you to be new and not able to handle problem customers.

So i looked him dead in the eyes and said “like this” and i slid all my rings on and off one by one.

Now one of the guys had come back on shift and he was heading toward me to ask a question when he heard this whole thing. Before he could intervene the husband grumbled swore at me and walked away, apparently unhappy that his tactics hadn’t made me cry. He made a beeline toward his wife and started to bug her about leaving the store. I made sure to tell him to have a great day loud and clear and i never saw the asshole again.

TLDR:worked in a pawnshop, my first customer was a rude dickbiscuit who mocked me when i stuttered, got mad when i tried to accommodate him, and got pissy when his crack about my weight didn’t phase me.

RAD is celebrating Women’s History Month with a series of guest posts featuring stories from the  #NPRchives handpicked by #NPRwomen.

We asked NPR producers The Kitchen Sisters (Davia Nelson & Nikki Silva)  to choose a story of theirs from the NPR archives for Women’s History Month. Here’s what they said:

So many of our stories are about the lost and hidden histories of women.  We dug back nearly two decades to our story French Manicure: Tales From Vietnamese Nail Shops in America. It is one of our favorites, one that matters deeply to us.  Getting to know the women in the salons, hearing harrowing their stories of war and immigration, feeling the village atmosphere that they create in so many of the shops, trying to capture how one group of women, refugees from a war, took on and adapted to American culture.  The soundtrack is one we are especially proud of, and moved by.  We created it based on the music and recordings in the lives of the manicurists we were recording.  The mixes were done with deep design and care.  The story originally aired on All Things Considered as part of our Lost & Found Sound series that ran weekly across the year of the Millennium.   

Image: Lost and Found Sound logo, 2000. NPR Historical Archives.


Tales of Festival Premium Shop in Prince Pepe near Shin-Yokohama station during Tales of Festival 2017 was way more popular than they were prepared for. A tiny shop in the middle of a mall with one register and a line that was never less than 40 minutes and often went far down the hall.

But they had a Zestiria lottery game where pushing down a sword stopped a roulette, and whichever Seraph is on that roulette would Aramatize with Sorey and determine your prize. Mikleo/Water Armatus was top tier and I got him and picked up that mini tapastry! (MY LUCK TODAY WAS OUT OF THIS WORLD THIS MORNING.) I also got a button, some stickers and the tiniest, cutest Mikleo stand I have ever seen.

Also new Mikleo shirt! Which was not a prize, I bought it, but finally I have a Mikleo shirt to wear to Festival! …Next year.


TREE OF LIFE - ooak handpainted vintage dip-dye strap top with embroidery:

Moon in Taurus - handpainted fashion inspired by nature and mystic tales - www.etsy.com/shop/moonintaurus

instagram: @moon.in.taurus


After the details about the legion of clones that followed Ahsoka during the Siege of Mandalore were revealed at Ahsoka’s Untold Tales panel at SWCE (watch it and weep) I got a bunch of requests to add an Ahsoka-inspired helmet to my Redbubble clone helmets collection. I added three, because, common, it’s the clones! We know these guys would mix things up a bit among themselves somehow :>