baktankar anyone?

Riktigt gott och färskt bröd till långfrullen på söndag? Då är det hög tid att börja baka nu. Jag tillsammans med vännerna på Riddarbageriet ger er “Lenin”. Det suraste brödet i bakboken “Riddarbageriets bröd”. Here we go:

Dag 1

Ingredienser

720 g surdeg av råg, 30 g jäst, 200 g rågmjöl – Blanda ihop skiten på 5 min mellanväxel, plasta och ställ svalt 15-18 celsiusar. Gå och lägg dig.

Dag 2

Degen från dag, 120 g mörk brödsirap, 120 g vetemjöl, 220 g rågmjöl, 150 g vatten, 25 g salt (ngt i överkant enligt min smak ta 23 g), 10 g torr och mald koriander – Blanda ihop hela klabbet (bokstavligen), kör i 2 min låg växel och sedan 10 min på mellanväxel. Låt dig själv och degen vila i 2 h. Olja två st formar eller gör som jag – använd sillisar. Släta av och till degen med en fuktig sked. Strö lite hel anis och lite rågmjöl på. Låt jäsa i 1-2 h. Sätt in formarna och spraya vatten eller kasta in några isbitar. Sänk värmen till 200 och låt bröden stå inne ca 40 min.

Hållbarheten blir fan-fuckin-tastic. Njut med bacon och pepparrot. /Henri

The trifecta

Maria: Wow, Valerie, you make a perfect ass. And Isabel, you are such a sexy, tight, pair of jeans.

Valerie: Am I that big? Show me!

Isabel: I can vouch for that, you are putting a serious strain on me back there, I can barely hold you.

Maria: I hope you can hold her. That’s why I made you the pants.

Isabel: Don’t worry, I got your back. Oh and there’s a mirror, show Val hold big she is.

Valerie: …. OMG, I am huge! This is sure to make your ex boyfriend jealous Maria.

Maria: I hope so, and after this I was thinking we hit the clubs like this… If that’s ok with you guys.

Isabel: Definately. But first, go find Maya and Gabi, your going to need a new top and some rockin’ tits!

Do those 7s come in a size 17?

Baby, it ain't the jeans...

Remember the roller coaster with the sign that said, “You must be this tall to ride?” Similar rules apply to jeans. If the tag on your waistband is in the double-digits, hand over your ticket, proceed to the exit, and haul your fat ass to the gym.

Of course, don’t be looking for sympathy there either. My friend Erin, a personal trainer with the relentless enthusiasm of a camp counselor on crack, recently talked me into a trial membership at her gym, the kind of place where people go more to stay in shape, rather than to get in shape. I lasted all of 25 minutes. Thankful not to have stroked out on the elliptical machine, I staggered back to the ladies locker room to hose myself off and escape the punishing stares of the glistening beauties in their tastefully coordinated workout attire. The complimentary towels were anything but. Picture a terry-cloth post-it. I wondered if this was the gym’s version of a not-so-subtle motivational message: “If you can’t get our towels around your gigantic arse, drop the shampoo, and get yourself back upstairs to the cardio room for a minimum of 40 more minutes. You fat bastard. Cheers, The Management. P.S. Yes, our scales are accurate.”

Needless to say, I haven’t been skinny enough to rock a pair of jeans in months. OK, years. It’s no coincidence that the last time I wore jeans was sometime in 2005, a year after I’d decided to go back, I mean, go to college. I’d heard about the Freshman Fifteen, but no one had said shit about the Sophomore Sixteen, not to mention the darker perils of junior and senior year.

And then there’s my husband. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a lovely, brilliant, amazing human being, and, as it happens, one hell of a chef. If I were a better person, I’d tell him to dump my ass and get on with his life. Thankfully, I’m not. That said, the man has been trying to kill me with food since the day we met. He lives to feed me, and seemingly finds my ever-expanding girth no impediment to his amorous advances. That’s the good news. It’s also the bad news.

“Baby, no – I can’t have an entire platter of pesto gnocchi with freshly grated parmesan and a hunk of garlic bread for dinner. I’m, like, you know – trying to lose weight.”

“But you’re beautiful. And it’s so good – it’ll make you happy. And i want to make you happy. That makes me happy.”

And who am I to deny him his codependent culinary urges? Especially when they go down so nicely with a bottle and a half of cheap French red? For a while, though, I did try to counsel him on portion size, using a salad plate as an example of how much food I should have. Bless his heart, he did his best, but his servings stayed the same size – they just got taller. It was like a bizarre form of water displacement.

There are times when I think, screw it. Why fight the inevitable? Let’s just become that couple, you know the one:  the pencil-necked, skinny guy with the sunken chest and drawn eyes because he’s had the life sucked out of him by his whale-like, bossy wife, the one hovercrafting along beside him in her voluminous muumuu, fat, glowing and serene.

Or I could just set myself on fire.

Kari me away

(Contains adult content)

By the start of spring quarter of my freshman year I’d already wasted a full two quarters trying to get Lori interested in me. (Read about Lori.) Any sane man would have realized that it was a hopeless endeavor and given up … but not me.

But then an angel appeared who would lead me to the promised land.

That quarter I was taking Geology 104. I had to find my transcripts buried in a box in the basement to pull up that old factoid. I’m reminded that there were three, one-hour lectures in a big hall and a two-hour lab each Wednesday.

The first day of lab I walked in and looked around and there was an angel sitting alone at the front table.  I walked over and sat down. She turned and smiled and said, “hi.”

Wow! She was something wonderful and almost indescribable. OK, She wasn’t amazingly beautiful, but she was definitely pretty. She was about five-feet-six-inches tall and fairly trim but with a nicely shaped figure. Her long, light-brown to dark-blond hair hung down her back. She had the air of a hippy and dressed as though she wanted to be one, although the age of hippies was a few years past.

We didn’t say much that first day but at one point I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. I got a decent view of the tops of her breasts but I would have had to stand over her to see her nipples. Now I’ve never been one to ignore a cheap thrill. I did try to get a better view a few times, but I didn’t want her to notice so I let it go.

The next week I got to class first. Once I got there I realized I should have held back until she sat down and then I could sit next to her. No problem — she walked in, saw me, came over and sat down next to me.

I said, hey, “I don’t know your name … I’m Nils.”

“I’m Kari,” she said.

It was that day we started working together in class. I don’t recall exactly what we did. I think we were looking over some maps of geological formations.

Having one map for the two of us we moved closer together. She leaned over to look more closely at the map. Oh glory! I had an unencumbered view of her formations. There they were — two objects of my long quest. Once again she had no bra. I don’t know but it almost seemed as if she were presenting her breasts to me.

She had slightly pointy boobs of a nice size. They actually looked somewhat like volcanos with rounded tops. She had areolas the size of silver dollars with inverted nipples.

I tried not to stare but I’d never had such a treat. My penis sprang to life in my jeans. I was glad that I was sitting at a table where no one would notice my hard-on.

I was so hot and bothered I could barely talk after the class. I walked out with her but we didn’t say much more.

I was determined to ask her out so I made a plan for the next week. I hung around in the hall outside the class and as she saw me she greeted me and we walked in together and sat down. It was a warm spring and, once again, she had no bra covering her breasts and a light, loose blouse. After we sat together and started going over something or other, I got a repeat performance.

We walked out together. She asked me where I was headed and I said, “wherever you’re going.”

She smiled at me and said, “isn’t that nice, my own escort.”

I asked her if she’d like to go out the next evening. There weren’t many classes on Friday so Thursday was the start of the weekend for a lot of students. She heartily agreed.

I couldn’t think of anything but Kari for the next 24 hours. I met her at her dorm and we went out for pizza. As we talked she struck me as a sweet but determined girl. Although she looked rather like a hippy she was no airhead, no silly pothead. She was an ardent feminist and struck me as very liberal minded.

We shared many of the same ideas. We even talked about wishing we could have been at Woodstock. Unfortunately it had happened eight years previous and we were just kids at the time. We seemed to have the same eclectic taste in music from classic rock to jazz to classical.

When we got back to her dorm after the movie she also showed that she didn’t mind getting what she wanted. Standing outside the building I was contemplating if I should kiss her goodnight. As I did this she lightly gripped my elbows, pulled me closer and looked up at me, just waiting to be kissed … so I did. First just on the lips but then she put her arms around me and we opened our mouths and entwined our tongues. My head was spinning. I wanted her so bad. I wasn’t going to push the matter, however, as I was seriously into this girl and I didn’t want to screw it up.

We went out again on Saturday and started going to dinner together after our Wednesday class. Our kissing got progressivly longer after each date.

My dorm had an interesting long and narrow room in the front of the building with big windows that let the sun in during the day. It was a secluded part of the building — particularly at the far end — and was often deserted after dark. I lead her to the end and we sat together on one of the couches. We had the same idea and immediately embraced and started kissing. It wasn’t long that I — being fairly sure there was no one around — put my hand up her billowy blouse and finally got my first handful of bare naked breast. The feel of it was extraordinary. Her breasts were just big enough to have a nice weight that made playing with them a lot of fun.

After a bit she whispered in my ear, “please, suck on my nipples.” She pulled down her low-cut blouse exposing  just enough so that I could do her bidding.

Then I got on my knees in front of her. She spread her knees apart so I could get closer. Not hearing anyone nearby I pulled up her blouse and sucked one tit and then the other. She slid down so that her ass was just on the edge of the couch. I let her blouse down and moved up so that I could kiss her. This also brought the bulge in my pants between her legs.

After kissing a few minutes I decided to go for it and pushed my bulge between her legs. I did it gently at first and she responded by rotating her pussy up into me. Responding to that encouragement I pushed my crotch into her and started rubbing up and down. I straightened up a bit and put my hands around her waist and we continued our slow, horizontal dance.

It was, by far, the closest I’d ever come to having sex. I’d pleasured myself hundreds of times before, however none of that was half as enjoyable as fully-clothed foreplay, between Kari’s legs. I looked down into her eyes and saw the same longing as I’m sure she saw in mine.

Suddenly, about 50 feet away, a group of students came through the front doors of the dorm. They didn’t see us in our dark corner but it was enough to scare a little sense into our heads.

We stayed there for about two hours alternating between talking, kissing and some light petting. We didn’t do any more dry humping.

I went back to my room and my roommate was there. I told him that I was going to take a shower. Fortunately no one took showers late in the evening so I was able to jerk myself off in private. All I had to do was replay in my mind sucking Kari’s tits and I was able to cum pretty fast.

Tomorrow, more of the story…

vasily zaitsev

Vasily grew up in Siberia, where he spent his early days working as a humble shepherd.  For those of you unfamiliar with Siberia, let me take a moment to paint you a little mental image.  First, picture the most desolate, inhospitable, unforgiving hellhole of a wasteland you could possibly imagine.  Then times that by eleven, bury the entire godforsaken terrain underneath about fifteen feet of solid ice, top that off with a foot-thick layer of wet snow, drop the temperature to a level so ball-chillingly cold that your urine freezes mid-stream, and populate the entire landscape with man-eating bears.  Siberia is like the unholy bastard child of Mordor and the North Pole – a place so remote and bitter that it makes up 80% of Russia’s landmass but only houses about 30% of its population.  This vast disparity in size to population is generally because human beings aren’t fucking programmed to survive in an environment where the yearly average temperature is five degrees below zero and goddamned bears and tigers bite your appendages off every time you step foot outside of your shitty fur hut.  While living in this region for any period longer than fifteen minutes might make the average person beg for the sweet release of death, it pretty much goes without saying that the indigenous people who hail from this region of the world are definitely not pussies.

Siberia in the midst of a July heat wave.

Vasily left his home and joined the Soviet army to take part in what the USSR referred to as “The Great Patriotic War.”  He, like many Commie Pinko Russkies, was more than eager to defend his people and his civilization from the onslaught of the German Army and the douchebaggery of Adolph Hitler.  Well, shit didn’t go quite as planned for Junior Lieutenant Zaitsev – instead of valiantly going down in flames while machinegunning never-ending waves of fascist Nazi stormtroopers to death from the cupola of a badass T-34 tank, he soon found himself sitting on a boat in the fucking Baltic Sea doing bullshit paperwork for the Russian Navy.  This bit goat nuts, and it wasn’t long before he requested a transfer to front-line duty.  He asked to be sent to assist in the tenacious defense of Stalingrad, a critical city along the Volga River and the site of an increasingly bloody conflict between the Nazis and the Soviets.

Just so that you can understand how fucking insane/badass it is that Zaitsev actually requested a transfer from the peaceful confines of his cushy desk job to the war-torn rubble of Stalingrad, here is a fun fact – the Battle of Stalingrad is the bloodiest single military action in human history.  Roughly two million people were killed in the span of about eight months during the brutal fighting.  This is like taking every single article posted on Wikipedia, transforming those articles into people, and then shooting them all in the face.  And this guy volunteered to serve there.  Of course, the Battle of Stalingrad was also the turning point of World War II, thanks in no small part to the balls-out actions of Vasily Zaitsev stealthily climbing through the blown-out buildings and rubble-strewn streets, eliminating high-ranking Nazi officers and NCOs one by one.

Upon his arrival in Stalingrad, Zaitsev grabbed his standard-issue Mosin-Nagant rifle and went to work as part of the Soviet 1047th Rifle Regiment.  He made a name for himself pretty quickly, killing forty German soldiers over the course of ten days.  Eventually he got his hands on a badass sniper rifle and started headshotting motherfuckers all over the place like an insane long-range version of “Whack-a-Mole”, wreaking so much havoc that the Germans actually dispatched their most badass sniper out from Berlin to take Zaitsev down.  Vasily responded by instant-messaging a chunk of hot lead into the guy’s frontal lobe and stealing his telescopic sight as a trophy.

As the mad Russian killer’s body count crept towards the triple digits, Soviet High Command decided that he should go to work training more snipers in the badass art of hunting the most dangerous game.  He set up a makeshift school in the heart of downtown Stalingrad, teaching a new cadre male and female soldiers in sniper tactics and giving them plenty of on-the-job training.  He also started banging one of his students, a babe named Tania Chernova, so that’s something as well.

Zaitsev ran the school of hard knocks, where mistakes and slacking-off on your homework resulted in you getting your fucking balls shot off by a German machine gun.  One time he gave his students orders to sit motionless in a destroyed warehouse all day and just watch the enemy through the scope of their rifles to study their movements and actions.  Well, after a couple hours of this, Tania got impatient and opened fire on the German positions.  The Nazis responded by shelling the warehouse with artillery and wiping out half of the entrenched snipers.  She barely escaped with her life, and ran to tell Zaitsev what had happened.  When he heard the story he said nothing, looked at her emotionlessly for a few seconds, and then fucking bitch-slapped her right in the face.  Shit, if this guy was willing to do that to his own girlfriend, you can only imagine how tough he was on the students he wasn’t getting it on with.

The rigorous training paid off however, and Zaitsev turned out a hardcore cadre of snipers who went out and inflicted death on the Germans, terrorizing them to the point where the mere act of raising one’s head to survey the surroundings became a frightening prospect to many Nazi infantrymen.  Vasily continued going nuts with his own rifle as well, recording a mind-destroyingly insane 242 confirmed kills in the span of four fucking months – including at least 11 German snipers.  Tania notched another 80 dead bodies, and it’s generally accepted that the snipers trained by Zaitsev went on to kill thousands of enemy soldiers and snipers.  The defenders of Stalingrad held the line, and the German Army was repulsed.  It was the furthest the Nazis would reach in their offensive against the Soviet Union.

After Stalingrad, Vasily Zaitsev continued fighting the Fascists, pushing them out of the heart o the Soviet Union and chasing them all the way back to Germany.  He got kind of fucked up when he stepped on a landmine at one point, but while most people would have called it quits after having the ass blown out of them, Zaitsev got right back into action as soon as the doctors cleared him for service.  He marched with the Red Army all the way to Berlin.

Lieutenant Vasily Zaitsev was awarded the Gold Star of the Hero of the Soviet Union – the highest award for bravery offered by the USSR.  After the war he ran an engineering school and a factory in the Ukraine, and lived to be 76 years old.  He was a national hero, an expert marksman, and a badass sniper who voluntarily put himself into the middle of the deadliest warzone the planet has ever seen — and did his part to make the whole thing just a little deadlier for his enemies.

[Via http://leatherflavoreddonut.wordpress.com]

Faucet

So yeah, I’ve tried to leave it off the blog but it’s just getting too relevant to my story…I have a vanilla SO at home.  I got home so wet and riled up from the little incident with Doug in the car that I couldn’t wait to get some more.  I had this wild thought that maybe now since I’d had my fix of submission I might be able to use some of the tricks I’ve been learning on Neil.  He’s been saying that he wishes I’m more aggressive, I just wasn’t sure I had it in me.

He must have had a nice dream because his cock was just begging for some attention when I came to bed.  I put the tongue ring straight to work, but my soaking wet pussy had other ideas.  Once the floodgates have been opened, I can’t stop them.  I climbed on top of him and lost my mind, squirting over and over again.  He loved the warm feeling of my juices running down his balls as I rode him.  My hand moved to his neck and tugged his hair a bit but couldn’t really read his reaction, though he didn’t stop moaning or seem surprised or upset.

Sitting up straight, I put my hands behind my neck so that when he opened his eyes he saw my breasts bouncing beautifully.  “I think I’m ready to take a more active role,” he said.  I got on all fours and he took me from behind, still stimulating my g-spot so much that I can’t even recall the details, out of my mind with desire, is all I can say.  Sometimes I get bored or tired after a half hour or so but this night I felt like I could go on forever.

He said he didn’t think he was going to be able to come and I begged, “Please don’t stop.”  We flipped to missionary position and I had a really rocking clitoral orgasm.  I asked him if he was losing feeling in his cock which sometimes happens when we have marathon sessions, he admitted that he was.  So I decided to try something different.  He couldn’t feel anything there so I’ll give him something else to feel.  Now he was kind of beside and behind me so I dug my nails into his thigh as hard as I could.  It had to hurt a lot but he didn’t protest.  After a few minutes he said “Don’t stop digging your nails into me,” he said.  So I did that for a little while longer, enjoying another squirt, and trying pulling his hair a bit more.

“Here get on your back again,” I said, climbing on him in reverse.  I was too wet to keep him from sliding out so he started masturbating right over my ass.  It felt so titillating, so objectifying, I almost squirted again without even being touched on my tender bits.  He’s stick it inside me to get some more all natural lube and then keep going.

I wish I could find a way to convince him how beneficial polyamory is for our sex life.  Right now I’m just trying to find him a girlfriend and maybe he’ll start to see the light.  Then again it is probably better that I keep my lovers in secret because I would get much too wild if I had permission.

[Via http://freedbyfetters.wordpress.com]

Penelope Cruz - How Bout a Brand New Nude Sex Scene?

This is a new nude scene Penelope did in a Spanish mvie called “Los Abrazos Rotos”. Damn what a great set on this girl……………

done var vars = {javascriptid: 'video-0', width: '400', height: '170', locksize: 'no'}; var params = {allowfullscreen: 'true', allowscriptaccess: 'always', seamlesstabbing: 'true', overstretch: 'true'}; swfobject.embedSWF('http://v.wordpress.com/Ao0EsBmW', 'video-0', '400', '170', '9.0.115','http://v.wordpress.com/wp-content/plugins/video/expressInstall2.swf', vars, params);

[Via http://intheatltoday.com]

Barack Obama calls Kanye West a "Jackass"

Further to Kanye West’s disrespectful interruption of Taylor Swift collecting her best female video award at at the MTV Video Music Awards (VMA’s), US President Barack Obama has described Kanye West as a Jackass just before a TV interview.

Obama said: “I thought it was inappropriate, it’s like she’s getting an award, why are you butting in?”  Before adding: “The young lady seems like a perfectly nice person, she’s getting her award, what’s he doing up there?  He’s a jackass”.

Listen to Barack Obama’s thoughts on Kanye West (being a jackass) and Taylor Swift (being a good person).

[Via http://interestsofchris.wordpress.com]

Vampire Diaries Flashing T&A in Public

Four seriously hot young actresses from the CW show “The Vampire Diaries” were arrested after police that should have been chasing rapists and drug dealers said they were dangling off a Georgia overpass and flashing drivers.

You heard me right… not just one but several dumb asses actually called 911 on Aug. 22 to report seeing the young women flashing drivers on I-75 from the side of the Rumble Road overpass just north of Macon.

Deputies rushed right over when they hear teen girls were hanging and flashing from the Rumble Road Bridge.  When the police arrived they found five females and a male standing on the bridge.

When informed of the complaints, the incredibly lucky guy that was with the girls (Shields) told the police that he was a photographer and was engaged in a photo shoot for a television show.  One of the officers checked the cameras and found various images of the female actresses sitting, straddling and hanging on the bridge in various poses.

How messed up is it that?  In a country where you can watch a show graphically and realistically depict a human being filleted alive on prime time television, fuck wad’s call the police on some young girls who just wanted to make their day.  Seriously, instead of getting all offended and spazzing out, those drivers should have been honored.

The police should have ticketed the drivers for wasting their time.  Instead dick head deputies arrested cameraman Tyler Shields, 27, and actresses, Nina Dobrev, 20, Sara Canning, 22, Kayla Ewell, 24, Krystal Vayda, 23, and Candice Accola, 22.

They were charged with disorderly conduct and released on bond.

[Via http://christianterrorist.wordpress.com]