A Serious Discussion of Which Type of Bread is Best in Bed
Thanks to Dustin’s blessedly laissez-faire attitude about what constitutes real, serious journalism, Kristy, Agent X, and I have been able to blow your mind holes right open with our discussion of the sex lives of Harry Potter characters, Disney villains, and the Avengers. (And several Avengers-adjacent characters. We didn’t go for the entire MCU, because that’s a fuck-ton of people and we do actually have lives that don’t involve fictional characters fucking, but suffice to say the #1 supreme grand poobah fucker is Peggy Carter, forever and ever amen). It’s not random .com bullshit—it’s character analysis. All of us are open to discussion if any enterprising college that’s #hip with the #kidz wants to hire us to teach a class on the sexual proclivities of Thomas the Tank Engine characters.
Your latest Pajiba bump ‘n’ grind may just be the most cerebral one yet: BREAD. For some reason Kristy and Agent X Homer giffed away from this one, so to round out our discussion I’ve invited my therapist, Dr. Imelda von Pufnstuf. Hi, doc!
Dr. Pufnstuf: I want you to know that there are people in your life who love you and care about you.
Rebecca: Awesome! So, we’ve already discussed the intricacies of bagel-fucking in the Avengers post. What do you think the worst type of bread would be in the sack? I mean, white bread is obvious, but I also feel like sourdough wouldn’t be particularly respectful of your needs?
Dr. Pufnstuf: I was led to believe this was an emergency.
Rebecca: Cool, cool. I’m thinking rye might have some insecurity issues stemming from the fact that it is awful. Never a good recipe for sexual satisfaction.
Dr. Pufnstuf: Rebecca, why are you doing this?
Rebecca: You have a point… the fact that rye always felt like it had to work for whatever it has could be a positive under the right circumstances. That doesn’t necessarily make for the most inventive sexual experiences, but at least it won’t take any of its partners for granted—
Dr. Pufnstuf: —Rebecca, stop. I’m here to help you.
Rebecca: —unlike baguettes, which, ugh, fuck baguettes. I mean, not literally—it is vaguely the right shape for it, I guess, but crumbs up in your business do not a good time make.
Rebecca: With pitas, we’re looking at flat, dry… better than nothing, but still going through the motions, you know? Not necessarily worth the effort. Now you know and I know that focaccia gets fucking insane—like, damn. Not much of an emotional connection, but some Olympic-level stunts. And don’t get me started on panettone.
Dr. Pufnstuf: We’ve talked about your obsessive tendencies, Rebecca.
Rebecca: Brioche… eh. I feel like brioche talks a big game, but when it comes down to it there’s a lot of yeast and no rising, if you get my drift.
Dr. Pufnstuf: I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t.
Rebecca: Cornbread, more like pornbread.
Dr. Pufnstuf: I’m hanging up now. I can’t help you if you aren’t willing to help yourself. You have to make that choice.
Rebecca: What do you think about challah, though? Steady workhorse, GGG—but willing to branch out if its partner brings something to the table. To wit: challah french toast. Are you hungry?
Dr. Pufnstuf: …I am very much not hungry.
Rebecca: K cool, me neither. Now, communion waf—hello?
Rebecca’s not entirely as weird as this post would indicate, if you want to follow her on Twitter.
Get entertainment, celebrity and politics updates via Facebook or Twitter. Buy Pajiba merch at the Pajiba Store.