#Asbach Uralt

[periodically80s]

[worldwaronehat]

[fabelhafteweltvonfelix]

"Wenn einem so viel Gutes widerfährt, das ist schon einen Asbach Uralt wert. In Asbach Uralt ist der Geist des Weines." (Werbespot um 1978)

[mr-1-2-3-4]

The scariest thing in the world, a short person with a flyswatter- @tw1nkee28

-Pixel at the store getting stuff-

Pixel-“I wonder why nobody has tried to rob me yet”

-he said looking up at Mori”

Mori-“maybe they are pussys?”

Pixel-“probably, anyways do you want anything?”

Mori-“probably some Asbach Uralt Brandy, or any other drink”

Pixel-“will do, and I’ll get some stuff for grilled cheese”

Mori-“I love you:(”

Pixel-“I didn’t hear that, say it again?”

-Mori sees Tw1knee with a flyswatter-

Mori-“can we also get something sweet, that’s what I said-”

[gefuddel]

in asbach uralt

ist der geist des weines von

rüdesheim am rhein

[luioisi]

Asbach Uralt Reindeer Christmas Ugly Sweater

Here's a product description for the Asbach Uralt Reindeer Christmas Ugly Sweater:

Asbach Uralt Reindeer Christmas Ugly Sweater

Get into the festive spirit with the Asbach Uralt Reindeer Christmas Ugly Sweater! Featuring a fun and whimsical reindeer design, this cozy sweater is the perfect way to show off your love for both the holiday season and the classic Asbach Uralt brand. Whether you're attending a Christmas party or enjoying a winter evening at home, this sweater will make sure you stand out in style.

Product Description: This vibrant sweater combines the charm of Christmas with the fun of Asbach Uralt branding. The playful reindeer graphic adds a unique touch, while the soft, warm fabric ensures comfort throughout the colder months. Perfect for beer lovers and holiday enthusiasts alike, it’s a must-have for your Christmas wardrobe.

Why You’ll Love It:

Features a fun Asbach Uralt-themed design with a reindeer for added holiday cheer.

A great conversation starter at any Christmas event.

Comfortable and warm, ideal for the chilly holiday season.

Makes a great gift for beer enthusiasts or anyone who loves quirky Christmas sweaters.

Product Details:

Material: Soft, high-quality fabric for warmth and comfort.

Design: Asbach Uralt reindeer graphic, bringing together Christmas cheer and beer love.

Fit: Available in various sizes to accommodate all fans.

Occasion: Perfect for Christmas parties, holiday gatherings, or as a fun gift for the beer lover in your life.

Care Instructions: Machine washable for easy care and long-lasting use.

Bring the festive cheer and the love of Asbach Uralt to your Christmas celebrations with the Asbach Uralt Reindeer Christmas Ugly Sweater!

➡️ Shop the Asbach Uralt Reindeer Christmas Ugly Sweater here!

Explore more holiday styles on our homepage here.

Let me know if you'd like to modify anything!

[lovemusicndance]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Asbach Uralt 🛍️.

[sparkleplatypuswriter]

He’s had a whole decade to make a nice little home for him and Margo in Houston complete with jazz records, Asbach Uralt, and a library of Stephen King novels. He’ll bring the borscht this time, and there will be no damn political interruptions.

I am once again asking for my blorbo to appear.

[hiawathab]

[historyontheorientexpress]

"In the cool autumn nights, field post letters with Asbach Uralt are much appreciated gifts." Once a Turco-German frontline favorite.

[schneereggen]

Is this meant metaphorically? Or... On what kind of ancient device is he working that he needs a driver?!?!

[periodically80s]

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 21 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Title: Succession Chapter 21

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language (P in V, unprotected sex *wrap it up, kids*, and creampie)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter 21

Once you locked the sliding doors and sounded the alarm, you rushed to Heisenberg’s living quarters to begin with the surprise.  You placed the poultry and meat into the refrigerator and put the bottle of Asbach Uralt on the table.  Two brandy snifters were on the upper shelf of the cabinet.  You grabbed those and placed them on either side of the bottle of liquor.  You removed  the toiletries and other things you had in the sack and put them with the rest of your belongings.  The remainder of supplies Heisenberg had on his list stayed in the sack and sat on the floor beside the table.  Heisenberg would know where he wanted them.

Rifling through your suitcases, you found the black dress you had packed for your trip to Moldova, the one you had planned to wear when signing the inheritance documents.  A momentary pang of disappointment rose in your heart.  The money you were poised to receive would have been much needed.  What would happen to the money if you didn’t claim it?  Mr. Dathermi said you were the sole heir.  The Moldovan government would surely swoop in and take it.  Perhaps you could talk with Heisenberg and the two of you could make the trip once he vanquished Mother Miranda.

You laid the dress on the bed, smoothing it out to remove the wrinkles.  You retrieved the black two-inch heels that you packed to go along with the dress.  Any other pair higher than two inches would’ve caused you to break your neck.  Heels weren’t your friend.

Grabbing two clean towels, you opened the shower door and ran the water until it came out hot.  You washed your hair, shaved, and washed with a floral scented body wash.  Hopefully after Heisenberg filled up on his favorite meal and favorite brandy, he would want to throw you on the bed and fuck your brains out.  Knowing that man and his insatiable sexual appetite, you were betting he would.

After stepping out of the shower, you picked up the piece of paper the Duke gave you with the ingredients and directions for Tochitura de Pui.  You read over everything as you dried off, remembering certain notes and tips the Duke said about the meal.  Your stomach did nervous flip flops.  You hoped that you would be able to make Heisenberg’s favorite dinner correctly.  It would be mortifying if it didn’t turn out well.

You pulled on your panties, dress, and shoes.  The dress was tight so a bra was not needed.  After styling your hair, applying your makeup, and putting on a few pieces of jewelry, you checked the time.  The clock read 4pm.  You didn’t know when Heisenberg would return, but the preparation would take a few hours.  

Jumping to your feet, you collected the pots and pans.  The Duke also gave you a small bag of rice and some asparagus to pair with the meat.  You placed both sides into small pots on the back burners of the stove.  While they slowly simmered, you cooked the chicken and meat in two pans.  You measured the rest of the ingredients and followed the directions of the recipe down to the letter.  Everything looked and smelled fantastic.  You could see why this was Heisenberg’s favorite meal.

A few hours later, Heisenberg lifted up the elevator door and marched across the steel walkway.  Once he opened the heavy metal door, the enticing aroma hit him.  His stomach began growling almost immediately.  Tochitura de Pui...a meal he hadn’t cooked for himself in several years.

His footsteps increased in speed as he turned the corner and began marching towards his room.  You heard him and an excited surge of nerves churned in your body.  Rushing to the table, you opened the bottle of brandy and poured the alcohol into the glasses.  He walked through the doorway as you turned with the snifters in your hands.

“Surprise!” you smiled.  

Heisenberg could not believe his eyes.  His favorite meal was marinating on the stove and the woman he loved was standing before him with two glasses of brandy and looking like a goddamn knockout.  He smiled as he removed his hat, sunglasses, and necklaces.  He placed them on the counter, slowly walking towards you.

“What is all of this, pussycat?” he asked as he took his favorite drink from your hand.

“I wanted to do something special for you,” you answered, “I asked the Duke what your favorite meal was and he gave me the recipe for Tochitura de Pui as well as a bottle of Asbach Uralt…”

He sipped from the glass and slowly closed his eyes, humming as the familiar liquor warmed his throat.  You lifted your glass to your lips and took a small sip.  The alcohol was strong, stronger than anything you’ve ever had.  You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head.  You exhaled with a loud whoosh and Heisenberg laughed heartily.

“Fuck, that is strong as hell!” you exclaimed, putting the glass down on the table, “now, please, Karl, have a seat and I’ll bring you a plate!”

Heisenberg removed his trench coat and sat down, looking at the table.  The bottle of Asbach Uralt was placed between two sets of utensils and napkins.  A smile spread along his face as he turned to you, pulling his gloves from his hands.  

He gave the back of you a thorough once over.  Your black dress fit you like a glove and hugged every curve.  His tongue slid across his lips as images of you spread across the table flew through his mind. You turned and walked to the table, placing his dinner before him.  

“Thank you, doll face,” he said.

“You’re very welcome,” you smiled as you went back to get your plate, but not before Heisenberg gave your ass a swift spank.  You yelped and giggled.

The two of you sat at the table and began eating.  The recipe looked delicious on paper, but smelling and tasting it was like heaven.  “I have not eaten this in years and it tastes even better than I remember,” Heisenberg marveled.  You couldn’t help the giddy elation in your stomach as he devoured his meal before going back for seconds.

And you had to admit that the food was wonderful.  You still drank the brandy, but you switched to a glass of water once your snifter was empty.  It was very strong and you could already feel your head spinning.  But this was all for Heisenberg and you wanted to make sure he had his fill of food and alcohol.

As you talked about how the Duke helped you figure out the best way to surprise him, Heisenberg simply listened and looked you over.  Not since his own flesh and blood had anyone ever done anything nice for him, other than the Duke and occasionally Moreau.  And the fact that you dressed up and made his favorite dinner in order to surprise him...it made him fall deeper in love with you.  You were selfless, giving, and caring.  It baffled him how someone that started off as his captor and hated him with a passion would grow to love him and want to surprise him.  

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” Heisenberg said, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, “the food was amazing…”

You blushed as he turned your hand and pressed a kiss to your open palm, your stomach fluttering.  “You’re welcome, Karl.  I wanted to do something special for you.  You’re always cooking for me…”  You placed both sets of utensils on the dirty dishes and took them to the sink.  Every bit of food had been polished off so you put the pots and pans in the sink as well, filling them with water.

Heisenberg stood from the chair and made his way over, coming to a stop behind you.  The sound of his footsteps and his looming presence behind you made your heart flutter.  He brought his hands to your hips and pressed his groin against your ass.

You moaned softly, your eyes closing.  He lowered his lips to the side of your neck, laying a deep kiss to your skin.  “Don’t worry about the dishes,” he murmured, “I’ll do them later...right now I want you...I want you so fucking badly…”

“Karl…” you moaned.  You rested your head back on his shoulder as his hand moved up the front of your body, taking hold of the front of your neck.  He kissed along your shoulder before moving his mouth to your ear, his tongue licking along your earlobe.  Another whimper escaped your lips as you felt wetness pooling between your legs.  You pushed your ass against the erection in his pants.

“I want to devour you,” he growled in your ear.  Releasing your neck, he pulled up your dress and pressed his hand against your panties over your pussy.  You moaned and squeezed your eyes shut as his other hand reached under the neckline of your dress and groped your breast.  His fingers pinched your nipple as he ground his hips against you, trapping you between his body and his massaging hand on your cunt.

“Karl...I want you to fuck me...oh my god...uh...uh fuck, Karl…” you pleaded.  His hot breath tickled your ear as he chuckled.  You wriggled and arched against him, pressing your palms to the countertop.

“This pretty pussy of yours is going to kill me, doll face,” he whispered, “you’re soaking your panties already...I need you to drench my cock…”

Unable to stop himself, he released your breast, pushed his other hand up your dress, and pulled your panties down your legs.  You stepped out of them without being told.  Heisenberg pulled your dress up your body and over your head.  “Stay right there,” he growled, pulling his buttoned up shirt and undershirt from his body.  He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

You let out a surprised gasp feeling him lift one of your legs and placing your knee on the edge of the counter.  “Keep your leg right here...I want to get deep inside of you…” he demanded, pulling his cock from his pants.  Your chest rose and fell as you looked back at him over your shoulder, waiting impatiently.  

Heisenberg let the tip of his cock slide back and forth through your pussy lips.  You whimpered and pushed back against him, to which he chuckled.  “Are you desperate for my cock, pussycat?” he asked teasingly.  All you could do was nod your head and bite your lower lip.  “Tell me,” he said, “tell me how much you want me.  I want to hear that beautiful voice beg for my cock…”

“Karl, please,” you moaned, pushing against him.  You were spread wide and Heisenberg was the only one able to control how much or how little of his cock you received.  He gripped the base of his length, moving gently, waiting for you to beg.  “Please...I want you to fuck me...right here...against the kitchen counter...I need you, I fucking need you!!”

“That’s more like it,” he moaned as he pushed deep inside of your cunt.  The both of you moaned loudly.  One of his arms looped around your waist, holding you close to his body, as the other hand went back to the front of your neck.  His lips were at your ear as he started his punishing thrusts.  “Moan for me, Y/N...I want to hear you...you sound so fucking sexy when you scream for me…”

His hips hammered against your ass.  You felt him rubbing back and forth across your G-spot and every sensation made you shiver.  He knew every sweet spot in your body...where to kiss, where to lick, where to suck...and it felt beyond amazing.

“Fuck me, Karl...just like that...oh fuck yes...just like that!!!” you moaned, tossing your head back.  His fingers gripped your neck as he panted in your ear.

“You’re mine, pussycat,” he growled, “all mine...I’m never letting you go...oh fuck, your cunt is so fucking tight!”

His hand moved from your waist to your pussy, his fingers rubbing your clit in time to his thrusts.  You began to scream.  The double punch of his cock stretching you out and his fingers rubbing your sensitive clit were about to drive you insane.  You were going to cum soon...so close...almost there...more...more…

“I love you, Y/N…” Heisenberg moaned, “...so much...cum for me...cum for me like a good girl…”

“I love you, too,” you whimpered, “...I’m almost there...Karl...almost there...oh fuck!”

His teeth sunk into the flesh of your neck as he felt your pussy grip his cock tightly.  His moans and grunts were stifled as he heard you scream.  Your body trembled and your hand went over his on your clit.  Your hips bucked wildly, humping his hand and riding his dick.  Your orgasm broke the surface and your moans were strangled as you trembled uncontrollably.  His teeth released your skin as he came inside of you, his deep moan echoing through the room.

He slumped against you as both of your bodies quaked from aftershocks.  Drops of sweat slid down your neck.  His arms held you tight as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder.  “You’re gonna kill me one of these days…” he whispered.  You chuckled softly.

You lowered your leg from the countertop as Heisenberg pulled out of your pussy.  Your legs felt numb and you had to hold yourself up as you kicked your heels off your feet.  Heisenberg could see that you were weak.  Without a word, he swept you off your feet and took you to the bed, laying you down amongst the soft covers.

You pulled the sheets and blankets down as Heisenberg removed his boots, socks, and pants.  He slid under the covers with you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.  You laid your head on his chest, inhaling the sweet smell of Tochitura de Pui still in the air.

[doubtspirit]

"Der kluge Rabe", 1914

Cognac Asbach "Uralt". The clever raven. Published in Jugend magazine, 1914. | src Heidelberg University Library

[itchyofficial]

07.10.2022 Dresden - Beatpol

Tourstart. Schreib ich das gerade wirklich? Fahren wir wirklich nach 2,5 Jahren Warten ENDLICH wieder auf fucking Tour? Sieht so aus, weil es gerade Donnerstag abend 23 Uhr ist, und wir uns im Proberaum treffen, wo just in diesem Moment ein großer schwarzer Tourbus einparkt. Trifft sich gut.

Da wir gar nicht mehr wissen, was man auf Tour so alles mitnehmen muss, packen wir einfach alles ein, was irgendwo herumliegt. Zu viel mit dabei zu haben ist auf jeden Fall um einiges besser, als zu wenig. Wie damals 2006, als wir in Dortmund beim Aufbauen im Club merkten, dass die Hälfte (!) unseres Equipments noch 500km entfernt in unserem Proberaum-Aufzug steht.

Nach der Abfahrt zockt der Großteil der Bande direkt FIFA auf der Playstation und ich freue mich, dass mir Matze einen echten Hosentaschen-Chantré mitgebracht hat. Wir reden in letzter Zeit sehr oft über Chantré. Oder über Mariakron. Oder über Underberg. Oder über Asbach Uralt. Einfach über alles, was sehr oft von Personen vor oder nach mir, zu jeder Tageszeit, auf das Kassenband im Supermarkt gelegt wird. Zum Chantré ist zu sagen, dass er z.b. tatsächlich um einiges besser schmeckt, als der Jägermeister, den wir seit 21 Jahren vor jeder Show saufen. Ob wir jetzt beim Pre-Show-Ritual allerdings auf Chantré umsteigen, muss erst noch vollends ausdiskutiert werden.

Irgendwann leg ich mich in meine Koje und lese noch etwas aus Zlatan Ibrahimoviczs neuem Buch, welches mit den Worten beginnt: „I’m a god. But a god that’s 40 years old.“ Genau so würde meine Autobiografie auch beginnen. Bis auf den ersten Satz, und die erste Hälfte des zweiten Satzes.

Wie immer in nem Nightliner schlafe ich komplett beschissen, freue mich aber am nächsten Morgen, dass wir bereits vor dem Club in Dresden stehen. Kurzes Frühstück, kurze Gesichtshygiene und dann los in die Stadt. Ich muss ja sagen, dass Dresden echt eine der allerschönsten Städte überhaupt ist. Nach der Besichtigung einiger alten Gebäude, trinke ich erst einen ekelhaften überteuerten Espresso und esse dann DIE Dresdner Spezialität schlechthin: Currywurst. Danach esse ich noch einen Block Schokolade am Stil, der sich in meinem Magen wie ein Latexhandschuh um die Currywurst legt, was ein sehr warmes und wohliges Gefühl verursacht.

Zurück im Club wird schon aufgebaut. Ich baue auch auf, und zwar meinen Laptop. Mein Laptop braucht aktuell in etwa den selben Platz, wie der erste Computer der Welt, Mitte des vorigen Jahrhunderts. Zuerst ging vor einigen Wochen mein Touchpad kaputt, dann direkt darauf meine Tastatur und gestern dann auch noch meine drahtlose Ersatztastatur. Das hat zur Folge, dass ich jetzt meinen Laptop, einen USB-Adapter, eine kabelgebundene Maus, einen Funkempfänger, sowie die größte kabellose Tastatur der Menschheitsgeschichte vor mir aufbauen muss. Dass die Tastatur, die mir unser Tontechniker Thimo im Jahre 2004 gebraucht verkauft hat, beim Anschlagen klingt, als würde man mit einem Spaten einen Porzellan-Laden umdekorieren, erwähne ich hier nur der Vollständigkeit halber.

Wir machen dann den einzigen langen Soundcheck dieser Tour. Heute wird ausprobiert, wirklich der Sound gecheckt, noch ein, zwei Songs geprobt, es werden Übergänge gecheckt und besondere Stellen in der Setlist besprochen. Ab morgen wird es dann wieder so ablaufen:

Sibbi zu Tontechniker Jonas: „Müssen wir nochmal was anspielen“

Jonas: „Wegen mir nicht unbedingt, ich kann auch die Einstellungen von gestern nehmen.“

Panzer (aus einem anderen Raum): „Könnt ihr bitte mal leise sein, ich schaue Fußball und verstehe kein Wort.“

Heute und morgen mit am Start: Lobsterbomb aus Berlin. Tolle Band und sehr nette Menschen. Außerdem sind die uns Frisuren- und Klamottentechnisch so überlegen, wie man nur überlegen sein kann.

Als wir schließlich auf die Bühne gehen, haben wir etwas Schiss, weil man gerade von riesigen "No-Show-Quoten" hört, sprich Menschen, die trotz einer Eintrittskarte aus verschiedenen Gründen nicht aufs Konzert kommen. Beim ersten Blick von der Bühne wissen wir aber: Unser Publikum besteht nicht aus diesen Menschen. Der Club ist richtig voll und wir dürfen heute die größte eigene Dresden Show unserer Karriere spielen. Und wie genial dieser Abend ist:

Wir hatten es schon fast vergessen, aber eine Tour-Show ist einfach nur krass. Von der ersten bis zur letzten Sekunde drehen alle inklusive uns komplett durch und am Ende haben wir Muskelkater vom Dauergrinsen. Ein Traum.

Heute kein Traum: Ab Lied zwei ist die Luftfeuchtigkeit so dermaßen hoch, dass sich die Bühne in eine Eislaufbahn verwandelt. Dass sich heute keiner von uns das Genick bricht, grenzt an ein Wunder. Außerdem ist es so heiss und anstrengend, dass wir uns fühlen wie Leute, die halt eben so alt sind, wie wir sind.

Dresden, das war einfach nur groß. Wir können nicht beschreiben, wie glücklich wir sind, endlich wieder auf Tour zu sein.

Bis zum nächsten Mal,

Dein ITCH

[ghafahey]

blushyalec replied to your post: How do you pronounce your name? ����

beste beschreibung :D

jedes mal wenn irgendwo ein lied von dem kommt und er am anfang seinen namen sagt, lachen meine freunde sich tot….. i hate it 😫