I was talking to my lovely wife (whose post yesterday is STILL SATIRE) the other day about soup. Yes soup. She was asking me what I wanted for lunches during the week. Would soup be good? And, if so, which soups are acceptable luncheon dining?
Well, I said, I like potato soup. Mmm. Especially with bacon. I also used to get the cheese soup at Denny’s when I was in high school. I liked it for some reason, even though by definition it’s gross. Melted, milky cheese doesn’t seem appetizing. Might as well just stick a spoon in nacho cheese dip (I probably would) and chow down on that.
But it’s good with bacon.
Well, she went shopping last night and brought me soup. Granted, there’s the traditional chicken noodle soup, and the like.
But she fulfilled my wishes.
She brought me potato cheddar cheese bacon soup. One soup, all three wishes. What an amazing woman.
I'm glad I didn't say I liked peanutbutter too . . .
It gets better. It’s Campbell’s Chunky Soup. It’s the soup that eats like a meal. It’s also the official soup sponsor of the NFL. Seriously. It is. I’m not lying. Why would I make that up? I couldn’t make up something that stupid if I tried.
If I were a famous athlete (and it’s still possible, if they make sitting on your ass a competitive sport . . . we’re trying to get it into the 2004 Olympics), my wife would be following me to the locker room, making sure I ate a hearty meal before my competition. “You need energy! Eat Papa! Eat!” she’d say. I’d be really embarrassed because a manly man like me doesn’t need his wife following him around forcing soup into his mouth. What will the other guys think of me?
Well, it’s okay. Because my wife bought me Chunky soup, the soup that eats like a meal, I feel loved. And it’s a wonderful warm feeling.
Either that or the soup isn’t digesting well . . . No wonder why the Rams lost the Super Bowl. Kurt Warner had a chunk of soup lodged in his intestines.
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