Dear Soup,
Your beautiful, liquid ebbs and flows move in the bowl. Your viscous and non-viscous shapes press against my mouth. Truly, you are divine.
O, Soup! Soup, your many ingredients, more arrayed than the stars in the sky, call to me. Lemon, chicken, rice, pasta, onions, carrots, even goat surprise me in flavorful ways.
If I was Guy Fieri, of Food network fame, I would say I am living in Flavortown.
Soup is for all. The peasant sips it in his shack. The rich man ingests his bisque before going to murder innocents. It unites us all. From the fishermen of Vietnam to the wise guys of Italy, from the cattle farmers of Mozambique to the old Jewish men of the deli, you are among us. Whether in pure liquid form or in a hearty stew, you warm our hearts.
Thank you, my old friend soup.
Soup can lighten any day, make any mood sing. It makes the hungry child stop wailing. It makes the Italian wedding a day to recall when times seem tough. It makes the Jewish deli a home for men whose name is Morty, it makes a sexy and intimate surprise for a man wishing to woo his lover.
Soup there is nothing like you. When I first saw the Soup Nazi episode of Seinfeld, I felt sorry, sorry for George. No one should be deprived of soup! Not even Henry Kissinger should go without soup (but by god, let it be cold, tasteless, and unholy).
More soup for you!
More soup, more soup to inspire you. Soup can start a revolution. It can bring people together. I guarantee you the seeds of a revolution have begun over a bowl of soup. My inclination is the Yellow Turban Rebellion.
Soup is what has brought me to this point. It is the blood that flows in my veins. Everyone's first meal, mother's milk, is soup. And their last, their own bile, is too soup. Soup comes in forms the meek and ignorant cannot even imagine.
It is time for me to enlighten the masses on the wondrous infinities of liquid.
More Soup For You!
-Fin
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