The Soup Kitchen

Welcome Back Ya'll

2010-09-15T00:34:00.001-04:00

Yes, that is the title of this post. I'm not going to reference how long it has been since I last posted (Did you notice that I just did?) because Grandpop has reminded me of the last date. You think I'm kidding, but he actually knows the date without even looking at the blog. He literally wakes up and checks every single morning. I know, devotion at its finest. This might be a good time to tell him that he can get updates as to when I do update it. It's pretty simple, but then again Grandmom and Grandpop can't even figure out YouTube, so this might be a little much on them.

I'm sure you're all as interested in hearing me talk about my grandparents as Ferris Bueller's classmates are in learning about voodoo economics, but I think it was necessary. Well, about as necessary as it is for Patches O'Houlihan to drink his own urine. Zing, two badass movie references in two sentences. I'm on fire.

You may be wondering, why now? It's pretty simple really. I didn't post over the summer, again. Yes, I do have more time on my hands than I do when I'm in school, but I prefer to spend it setting Minesweeper world records rather than blogging. When school comes around, I have actual work to get done, which I put off by blogging. It's completely counterintuitive (SAT word of the day) and makes no sense at all, but it's the excuse I came up with this time.

There is one particular story I have to tell you about, and it has happened fairly recently. Over the past couple of months I have started working on college applications. For anyone who is also doing these, they know that email is very important. You would also be able to understand my concern when I logged onto my Comcast account to find all of my emails gone. Literally. Vanished. They weren't even in the trash bin. After some super sleuth work by me and Jeff (mostly by me), we figured we should call Comcast. He described the problem for about an hour, and they said they would have it working again within a day. Not hearing anything, Jeff called back the next day. To his dismay, there was an automated number to press for problems with the online email, one that had not been there the day before. Coincidence? I think not. I know what you are thinking, and yes, I did cause 1-800-COMCAST to create a line specifically for my needs. It was probably the greatest moment of my life so far.
Along with this epic return to blogging, I'm going to update you on a few things that have changed since the start of this blog.
1. I no longer care for sweatervests. As crushing as this may be for all of my readers (all three of you), I honestly haven't worn a sweatervest in quite some time. Granted, I usually sport it once during the holiday season, but that's really about it. I've moved on to other fashion quests, with my main one being sweatshirt-shirts and sweatpant-shorts.

2. I'm not going to get on here very often at all, and when I do the posts will be short. Probably shorter than this. This may surprise you, but writing blogs actually does take a lot of time. This also may surprise you, but I'm a person who doesn't really have a lot of time on his hands.

3. I effing love Journey. I don't care what any of you have to say (looking at you Fat Dub), Steve Perry could sing me to sleep. I know 80's Jake (TBD) will appreciate this, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Tell me Lights isn't the purist song this side of Meet Virginia, and I will seriously reconsider why I am even talking to you in the first place.

4. I love finding Bro names. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go watch I Love You, Man. Bro Namath, Bro Montana, and Dude von Dudenstein are all suggested in that fine piece of cinematography. 80's Jake and I have spent the first few days of history class not completing our work, but instead brainstorming fantastic Bro names. Sandy Brofax, Frosty the Broman, and Vincent Van Bro are all solid selections, but our favorite rests in Bro Pesci. My good buddy Drew Lewis has even gotten in on the fun, by naming me Ben Brobel. I'm appreciative of the name, Brometheus.

5. I'm one of the vice presidents of our school this year. I'm not telling you this to brag (who am I kidding? I'm telling you this to brag), rather I'm doing it to show you the greatest video in the creation of mankind. Adam Salam and I decided to run for president as a team, and with the help of Jackay, made this super awesome video to emcompass our goals as president. I'm going to link it here, just in case the video below gets cut off. For the record, our presidential speech literally consisted of us introducing ourselves and me saying "We pretty much only have a video. So, yeah." Enjoy.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Chris Murphy

2010-05-17T22:04:00.001-04:00

It's been a while, but Fat Dub and I have successfully finished our AP tests. I'm not going to speak for Will here, because frankly I have no clue what his schedule is, but my school year is all but over. This means more blogging for all of you (in truth, it really doesn't. I said the same thing last year, and I posted next to nothing at all). After my last post, the Penn Relays one, I got an email from Chris Murphy, the man I quoted calling me a "slow, white teenager." First, some background information.

The Sobel's and the Murphy's have been friends for a while (BFFE's if you will). Chris has a daughter, Line, who is best friends with my sister Sizzie. If you don't know Line, she is one of the more annoying human beings on the face of the planet Earth. Besides the non-stop talking or the unrelenting desire to be perfect at everything she does, there is just something about Line that bothers me. (If you couldn't tell, I thoroughly enjoy annoying her. And no, her name is not actually Line.) Chris also has a man-child son named Kevin, and a wife, Connie. If you ever end up making a trip over to the Murphys house, you will sooner die than leave without eating. Literally. Chris will hold you down and Connie will force feed you (They've done it to me before. The food was actually pretty good). And probably the most important thing you will learn about Chris is that he is a lawyer.

Anyway, I suppose Chris took some offense to me quoting him on the blog, judging by the fact that he took time out of his work day to email me about it, and subsequently attempting to clear his name. Yes, I use attempting for a specific reason. I put in my two cents where I deemed necessary, in italics.

Ben -- Please feel free to post this one your blog: (This is a clear sign that he is emailing me exclusively for the blog. I know all you really want is publicity, Chris. So I'm giving it to you. Partly because I'm a nice guy, but mostly because I have very little to write about.)
While I am somewhat honored to have been mentioned in your recent blog post on the Penn Relays, I must protest your "loose" journalistic ethics (The quotation marks were painfully unnecessary.) In particular, you attribute to me a certain quotation that I cannot ever recall stating. Now, given that I have known you since before you even knew how to write with a fat crayon, I feel somewhat well positioned to offer two specific criticisms to speed you on your way to journalistic fame and fortune. First, as a result of our relationship, you know that certain people close to both of us (e.g., your mother) often like to attribute quirky or irreverent comments to me. While I have consistently denied ever having made the attributed comments, I must admit that I find it interesting and humorous that anyone could think I might actually have made the comments in question. Knowing of my consistent denials, I would have expected you to have the journalistic "cojones" to have approached me for confirmation before publishing your wildly inaccurate quote. Second and regarding the quotation itself, I do not deny calling you slow, but I fail to see why you feel the need to play the race card (well played); I would have been only slightly less appalled had you replaced "white" with "Lithuanian" or "kielbasa-loving." (It's funny he mentioned kielbasa-loving. While it is true that I do love a good dish of kielbasa and sauerkraut, I actually gave some of my kielbasa to Chris when he came over. He was eating it when he asked me about track, and that's when the quote in question was stated by the defendant. I can speak lawyer too, chachi.) You are rapidly approaching the age at which you must come to grips with your own limitations and looking for excuses for your glaring lack of pace will only delay the inevitable day of reckoning (Your attempt to make me experience a premature epiphany of my track ability has failed, for I have already realized it a long, long time ago). Having said that, I must admit that I have thoroughly enjoyed your pieces in the Panther Press and your tongue-in-cheek view of life at SHHS. One final thought about my appearance in your blog -- it proves the maxim attributed to Derek Bok, former president of Harvard: "I think the measure of your success to a certain extent will be the amount of things written about you that aren't true." (Chris, I have no idea how you hunted this quote down. It impresses me, except, unfortunately, it really isn't applicable, because the "wildly inaccurate quote" you claim to have never said actually did come out of your mouth.)

A few days after this email, Jeffrey J. and I actually went to the Phillies game, courtesy of Chris Murphy. He was there of course, and we got to enjoy the game in the box. It was Dollar Dog Night, but in a suite you don't pay for any food, so the promotion was null. I had some other nice food, and got to take home pretty much all the desserts. All in all, Jeffrey J. and I thoroughly enjoyed our evening, and Chris continued to deny his "white teenager" quote. I was willing to let bygones be bygones, but Chris just wouldn't let it go. I felt obligated to put it on here, and I've finally gotten arond to it. So you're welcome, Chris.

I'm not including a video. I'm sure the three people (Grandmom, Grandpop, and that one viewer in Santa Clarita, California) that have actually finished this post are crying.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

A Tribute To The Greatest

2010-05-09T01:26:00.016-04:00

Yeah, I just started off with a video, a video only with music and a picture. Just a warning, if you didn't like the song above, don't bother reading anymore of the post. (Cool, so it's just me now? Nice)

The afore mentioned song (sorry I just read all the lawyer talk on the last post, really not my best) is the first track off Nas's debut album, Illmatic. Now you may be wondering why in the world I would be talking about Illmatic (I really overuse the imposing on the audience a question meme, don't I? (See what I did there?)). Well first, I'm bringing culture to this blog (yeah, Illmatic counts as a cultured reference) and second, as the title of this post implies, it is quite simply the greatest hip-hop album ever made.

First, the production of the album is simply outstanding. Nas put together an absolute murderers row of producers for Illmatic. I would go so far as to say that the producers used on Illmatic include 4 of the 10 best producers of all time (In my rankings DJ Premier comes in at #2, Large Professor at #4, Q-Tip at #7 and Pete Rock at #10). And these guys weren't just screwing around in the studio, Q-Tip said, "We were all in there, pumping out some of the best beats of our careers." The beats are a clinic in minimalism, just heavy drums and bass with little useless glitter that characterizes what pass for good beats today. I would go so far as to say that Illmatic is the best produced hip-hop album of all time. With only the RZA's (The best producer of all time) masterpieces of Enter the Wu-Tang: 36 Chambers and Liquid Swords coming close.

Nas's flow on Illmatic is simply astounding. One only needs to hear NY State of Mind's first few bars to get that. Often, Nas's pure flow and skill as a rapper is overlooked, but on Illmatic it takes the album to the next level. His flow is the best it's ever been, one only needs to look at the first bars of NY State of Mind to see how smooth he is, even over the most complex of rhymes.

But Illmatic isn't just a hip-hop album. It's a work of art. When it comes to the best poets of the 20th Century some might point to the Eliots, Yeatses, Nerudas, and Ginsbergs (Yeah, Spanish and Beat Poetry, I told you I was cultured) of the world, but I say nay. Nasir Jones is the greatest poet of the 20th Century and I point to Illmatic as the reason why. The complexity, technical precision, and topics of his rhymes are something that hasn't been seen in hip-hop before or since Illmatic.

On Illmatic, Nas focuses on the streets he grew up on in Queensbridge, New York. He spins tales of a neighborhood party, visiting his best friend in jail, his childhood, drug use, and most of all-the drug trade. Nas tells it how he sees it, he expresses the cold truth of the streets. Unlike the Notorious BIG's more successful debut album, that also came out in 1994 (1994 was the best year in the history of hip-hop), Ready to Die, Illmatic is not about the money and riches and women that the artist possesses. Illmatic is an album about the cold hard truth-it's a terrible life out there with no way out (it's basically just The Wire of hip-hop). "The World Is Yours" is probably the best example of this. I won't go into deep literary analysis, just know the world is something, but it's definitely not yours.

Nas's rhyming on the album is also amazing. His complex rhyme schemes had never been seen before in hip-hop. Nas brought internal rhyme schemes to the forefront of his work, the album's closer "It Ain't Hard to Tell" probably has the most complex rhyme schemes in the history of hip-hop. Nas took the lessons of his predecessors like Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, and Rakim (3 of the best Golden Age rappers) to heart, and builds upon their incredible flow and rhyming.

So heres one more track off the album, "One Time For Your Mind"

___________________________________________________

As you probably know, one of my favorite shows, Lost is ending Sunday (hey that's today!). Years after it has ended, Lost will be remembered as being the most ridiculous show of all time (such bold statements on this post! (exclamation points!)) and for good reason. But despite the time traveling, immortals, smoke monsters, fight v. good and evil, constants, polar bears, bad nicknames, complete disregard for that fact that it takes skill to accurately shoot a gun, hatches, incidents, caves filled with magic light, 3 toed statues, magical lighthouses that somehow go unnoticed for 5 seasons, talking to ghosts, flashbacks, flash forwards, Kate, sideways universes, losing being able to speak english, useless temples, random skeletons, and Jack's tattoos episode (yeah most of those came form the last season, just shows you how poor a job they've done) I love and will always love this show. The Pilot episode, the best hour of television I've ever seen, is up on hulu right now. Go watch it.

___________________________________________________

Oh and congrats to Ben for winning student council vice-president. Yay!

___________________________________________________

Animal Collective's "Street Flash"

(Will?)

Nikola Tesla: Real American Hero

2010-05-02T16:51:00.020-04:00

I want to tell you all about one of my personal heroes: Nikola F. Tesla. And yes, that F stands for Fricking Awesome (that was originally a different word, guess which one!). Essentially, there are only two things you need to know about Niky T. First, Nikola Tesla is far and away the smartest person in human history, smarter than any of Galileo, Newton, Ptolemy, or Einstein (the rest of the top-5). And second, he was completely insane. I mean like the raving lunatic that walks down the sidewalk yelling about the apocalypse (otherwise known as Michelle Bachman (double parentheses for divisive political jokes, yay!)) crazy. So insane that this video would make perfect sense to him.

Now, you may be asking yourself, "If Nikola Tesla is so awesome and smart why haven't I heard of him/only heard of him as the character that David Bowie plays in The Prestige?" Why Will, that is an excellent hypothetical question. Let me answer you're question with another question, did you know that Thomas Edison was a giant glory hogging douche? The reason that you've never heard of Tesla is because Edison used his great wealth and status to screw over Tesla's legacy. Now rather than actually explain the Edison-Tesla feud I'm going to refer you to this drunk history (once you get to the part where Edison starts electrocuting animals its no longer even remotely correct). So Edison has unfairly buried Tesla in history, even though Tesla was the man. Not only did invent alternating current (the current we still use today), but he also invented the radio (not Marconi) and had a thousand other cool idea. Tesla was able to use the earth as a conductor and once lit 200 lightbulbs from 26 miles away without using wires, the nerds at MIT were just freaking out because they were able to do 7 feet. Not only that but Tesla was able to artificially create lightning and he invented a death ray. Let me repeat that, the man invented a DEATH RAY THAT COULD KILL ANYONE WITHIN 200 MILES OF IT. J. Edgar Hoover was so freaked out by this information that her confiscated all of Tesla's papers and property when he died and they have been concealed as top secret ever since (I'm not saying that the government has a death ray, I'm just saying North Korea better not come within 200 miles of us). Tesla did some really insane stuff. His Wardenclyffe Tower may or may not have caused the Tunguska Event. And one time, while he was working on magnetic resonance, he discovered the resonant frequency of the Earth and caused an earthquake so powerful that it almost obliterated the 5th Avenue New York building that housed his Frankenstein Castle of a laboratory. Stuff was flying off the walls, the drywall was breaking apart, the cops were coming after him, and Tesla had to smash his device with a sledge hammer to keep it from demolishing an entire city block. Unluckily, we haven't been able to recreate most of Tesla's inventions and experiments because he hardly wrote anything down, I mean the man could memorize entire books and did advanced calculus in his head, he didn't have to worry about writing stuff down. So basically science wise, he was the best.

His insanity is equally well documented. He was prone to nervous breakdowns, claimed to receive weird visions in the middle of the night, spoke to pigeons, and occasionally thought he was receiving electromagnetic signals from extraterrestrials on Mars. He was also obsessive-compulsive and hated round objects, human hair, jewelry, and anything that wasn't divisible by three. Additionally, Tesla was disgusted by the thought of sexual intercourse and remained celibate his entire life. So now when someone says Nikola Tesla you can say, "total baller."

___________________________________________________

Recently, I've been listening to quite a bit of Wu-Tang Clan. In particular, the unrivaled Ghostface Killah. My new found Ghostface love has gotten me into an argument with my good friend Jeremy. While we both agree that GZA is the best rapper in the Clan and that RZA is the most important member, we got into a disagreement as to who was better-Ghostface or Method Man. Jeremy points to Meth's superior flow and rhyming ability in claiming, while I point out Ghost's greater lyricism and body of work. To me, Meth has more natural ability, but that doesn't make him better. Vince Carter is more naturally talented than Kobe, but does that make him a better basketball player? No. Ghost has a far superior catalog of music than Meth. Meth's best album is his first Tical. Ghost has three albums that are better than Tical- Ironman, Supreme Clientele, and Fishscale. In addition, Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx... is essentially a Ghostface album, he appears on every song. Ghost is not only the better lyricist than Meth, he is the best lyricist of a generation. He rhymes about everything from the drug trade, to the hard fought lives of his elderly neighbors. When Ghost raps, he's not just making free association boasts, he's telling a story. And the man's obviously read his fair share of Joyce, Ghost's trademark is his stream of consciousness rhymes. Most telling is the evaluation of other members of Wu. When RZA was asked to name his starting five, he placed Ghostface at number two behind only GZA, Meth was not on the list. If you need any more proof of Ghostface Killah's mastery of the rap genre simply listen to the third verse of this song (2:40 mark). Yeah, he's pretty much the best.

___________________________________________________

So just to continue me dropping music knowledge on all your heads, heres my favorite song from one of my favorite groups right now, Dirty Projectors

The guitar playing, homeless looking, llama herder? He went to Yale

___________________________________________________

So as you (who am I kidding no one is still reading this) probably know Ben and I are juniors at Strath Haven. Spring semester is really important, and AP testing season is fast among us. Which is really not good, I need to relearn how to speak Spanish and 1000 years worth of European history by Friday. The Spring is definitely an incredibly packed time for juniors, and although some would say that is equally true for seniors, I call BS. I point out that they are already in to college and thus basically have little to nothing to worry about. Saying that the end of senior year is a stressful time is a total cop out, give a real reason, don't just dick around about it.

___________________________________________________

Even more music for you. Blitzen Trapper performing a stripped down version of Black River Killer

In 12 years he'll be 11 and a half,

Will

Replaying the Relays

2010-04-24T00:52:00.008-04:00

First and foremost, I would just like to thank Fat Dub for putting up his first post. Just thought you should know, he literally had it in the drafts for two weeks. I'm not sure whether it was habitual laziness on both of our parts, or if it actually took him that long to remove all the expletives (I'm bargaining on the latter), but either way, it is published.

As if Fat Dub's post at the beginning of the week wasn't good enough, it is also Penn Relays week. While this probably means absolutely nothing to the 5 people reading right now, to me, Penn Relays week means an invigorating day of watching amateur athletes compete at the most awe-inspiring stadium in all of America. In other words, I get to miss school for a day.

Let me rephrase that. I get to miss school if I get a ticket. Strath Haven being the track powerhouse that it is naturally has several relay teams running in the Penn Relays, and with that comes the perk of many tickets to the head coach. You're probably saying to yourself, "Oh, so Coach Ed got the tickets. Since he and Soup are like two peas in a pod, he will definitely give him a ticket to Friday's relays." That would be a decent assumption, if Coach Ed was the head coach of our track team. That's where you are all wrong. While Coach Ed may be a Baller Fo' Real, Strath Haven is coached by one of the all-around bossiest men in the history of Planet Earth. The man I am talking about, of course, is Bob Jesson.

Have you ever met someone who you are so afraid of that at times you tremble in their presence? Ever soiled your pants just from hearing someone yell? Me neither, but you can just ask Teddy about how that feels. Anyway, if ever there were a person to be intimidated by, it is Mr. Jesson.

He teaches 7th grade history, and he has never missed a full day of class. Ever. I had his class a few years back and I still remember the day he came back in after receiving tooth surgery earlier that morning. Nothing he said was decipherable, but it matters not. Besides that, Mr. Jesson related everything we learned to football. In hindsight, his analogy proved accurate. He also told our classes about how when he used to teach at school in his earlier years, he used to stop knife attacks and break up in-classroom fights. His kids never messed with him there, he said, so he could handle anything we threw at him. Plus the fact that he had the best current events game known to man made him an excellent history teacher.

Mr. Jesson coaches the middle school football team (Fat Dub was one of his favorite pupils) and the high school boy's track team. I'm not sure how long he has been coaching for exactly, but it is probably in the neighborhood of 40 years. No joke. He's legit. If you don't believe me, chew on this food for thought: Mr. Jesson coached Leroy Burrell. If that name sounds familiar, that probably has something to do with the fact that Leroy Burrell was twice the fastest man in the world.

Anyway, Jesson knows his way around a track. It is highly advised to be aware during interval days, and not to get in the way of his sprinters. One distance runner, Jessy Chen, knows the wrath of Jesson first hand. While Jessy was doing a workout (pretty slowly) in lane 1, the sprinters started, also in lane 1. Mr. Jesson began to yell to get Jessy out of the first lane to make room for the sprinters for a few seconds. Even though it was a windy day and he was on the opposite side of the track, Jessy could actually hear him. That can be attributed to Mr. Jesson's yell, which can be heard halfway across the globe on a quiet night. The only problem was, Jessy was so befuddled by the loud yelling in his direction that he stood his ground and looked around in confusion as the sprinters passed on the outside. After yelling to Jessy for five seconds and realizing it had failed, Jesson let out a quote for the ages: "THAT KID IS A FRIGGIN IDIOT." Needless to say, he chewed Jessy up for not moving. Chen would never make that mistake again.

This is not to say Mr. Jesson is just a loud guy who makes everyone piss their pants (this is the part where Greg tells us that it was 8 years ago). He's a nice guy who genuinely wants every guy on his team to do well. Unfortunately, he works with the sprinters, and lets Coach Ed handle the distance guys. For that reason, and for others (like not having hour long discussions about how much of a douchebag Bobby Flay is) I don't share the same bond with Mr. Jesson as I do with Coach Ed. So when Mr. Jesson had extra tickets available for Friday, it would be a little tougher to get them than it would be if Edwin had them.

On Wednesday, Jesson had an impromptu gathering by the track about Penn Relays. I'm pretty sure I wasn't even supposed to be there at that point, considering I'm "a slow, white teenager" as Chris Murphy appropriately put it (for the record, I just ran a 56.4 and hawked some kid from Radnor in our 4x400 B relay... they don't call me Sprinting Soup for nothing). At the end, Mr. Jesson said that he had a few extra tickets available if anyone was interested. I was in the back of the huddle, and I may or may not have been wearing a bandana (Hint: I was totally wearing a bandana). Just so everyone knows, it complimented my playoff-beard-that-actually-looks-like-stubble-because-the-hair-is-blonde-and-few-and-far-between pretty well, which is the main reason I had it on. I'm sure it added to my whole aura when I yelled out that I was interested in a ticket. That may have contributed to Mr. Jesson proceeding to mumble for about 10 seconds to himself before saying "We'll see, a lot of people probably want them."

I wasn't really expecting Mr. Jesson to say something different, so I wasn't too crushed. He then sent us away, and promptly called over several members of the team to ask if they wanted the extra tickets. When I found out about this development, I did nothing out of the ordinary because, again, I expected it.

Fast forward to the next day, when Mr. Jesson was situated on the bench watching us finish up our intervals. It turns out he had plenty of tickets, one of which I received. I was in. My parents let me skip school, so off to the Penn Relays I would go.

The next day I arrived at the train station with Noah Frick, ready for a day of fun. We had already planned to eat at Pot Belly, a delicious sandwich joint around the corner from Frankin Field. How did we know about this place, you ask?

About a year and a half ago, a few of us strapping young fellows took the train to University City to see Penn play. We ran rampant around the Palestra, looking for band kids to pick on and some of the coolest foam hats you'll ever see. Apparently the hats were only for students, or for band kids (I couldn't tell because the only student section there was for the band), so no one gave them to us. If there were six of us there, we eventually managed to get five. The bossiest retrieval of a hat was Jack Eiel's, who pretty much ran onto the court to get one. Not even kidding, you can ask him if you'd like. Anyway, I was the only one who didn't get a hat, and got completely shut down outside of the Palestra by some Penn doucher who had two hats but was "saving it for my friend." Disappointment showered me at first, until we visited Pot Belly and had some high quality eats.

This is why I was so pumped to go back to Pot Belly, to relive some of the great moments of the past. We got on the train, and there may have been half of the team on there. That's an exaggeration, but Jesson got a lot of tickets for us. We got to the Relays and saw races. And then we saw more races. And then we saw a lot more races. Finally, our 4x100 relay team was up. They finished first in their heat, but they were no match for the Jamaican teams who got faster times. A group of us left the Relays to go enjoy some eats. This crew consisted of Noah Frick, Richard "Scoot" Scott, Dave Klein, Fen Bloyd, Papa John Shiiba, Andrew Marmorstein, Jeff Seelaus, Sam Pinecone, his girl, and the Sobel Soup of course. Looking back, we totally could have waited an extra two minutes for the guys who just ran (like Down-C) to come up, but we were thinking with our stomachs. When we walked outside of the relays, we met up with a former teammate who now runs at Penn, George Dickson. George is a somewhat frequent visitor to the blog (meaning he goes on once or twice a year and clicks on some ads to make me money) and an all-around good guy. All of us hit up Pot Belly and got some well-made sandwiches. It was a bit of a role reversal for Sam's girl, seeing as she wasn't the one making the sandwich this time, but she made it through alright. Besides that, Noah, Scoot and I all bought whole pickles. I shouldn't have to confirm this, but they were finger-licking good.

We realized how big of jerks we were (we know) when Jordan rolled up by himself fresh after racing. He gave directions to Chris Williams and Down-C on how to get there. Unfortunately, Jordan's version of giving directions includes telling them the wrong street and describing the eatery as "next to a brick building." If you've ever been to Penn before, you know how great of a description that is, considering the area is legitimately 90% brick. Once Chris and Bryan showed up, the majority of the group headed back.

Inside, there was a section to get a lot of free stuff. The things you could get really weren't all that great, but everybody and they moms knows that free makes everything good. Apparently Coach Ed agrees with that statement, seeing as he was far more excited about getting the free stuff than we were, and he has been going to the Penn Relays for years. After eating a few gross Snickers Marathon bars (never try those), we headed up to the stands. Only this time, we went to the upper deck and tried working on our farmer's tans. This provided for an enjoyable experience for a couple of reasons.

One was the Jamaicans. The stands were loaded with them, and they made their presence felt. The whole day I had the Jamaican Bobsled Team theme song stuck in my head. Except instead of bobsledding, the Jamaicans were running and cheering, which are both things they do very well at. Whenever someone was "hawking" another person, meaning they were making up ground fast at the end of a race, all of the Jamaicans would yell "WHOOP" repeatedly in extremely high-pitched voices. It made a close race even that more entertaining.

The second best part about being in the upper deck was when Dave Klein fell asleep. I guess he didn't get much sleep the night before, because Dave was out. He was lying down in between the bleachers, where people rest their feet. It was too good of a situation to not mess with him, and of course I was the one that had to do it. I found two stray french fries and stuck them in his already closed fist. Several pictures were taken, and George laughed heartily. Somehow the fries got dislodged before Dave woke up, so he never quite believed us when we told him that he was eating them as he fell asleep. Nonetheless, it was a good time. Shortly thereafter we headed home, all tired from this day of infamy.

There's no video this post. It's half because I'm far too lazy, and half because for some reason, the videos are being cut off.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Let's Make Some Introductions

2010-04-21T19:57:00.014-04:00

Hi. I'm Will. You may know me better by my nom de guerre 'Fat Dub' that is so often referred to by Soup (In fact I'm the most used tag). I figured it wouldn't be the most clichéd thing this blog has ever done to introduce myself, so I guess I'll do that. First off, I have some different writing philosophies than Soup, for example I'm going to use peoples actual names, rather than nicknames. At least in my writing, Soup will be known as Ben from now on, I will go by Will, and any other members of the cast of characters that you have come to know and love will all have their real names used. I don't really know why Ben used nicknames in the first place, but seeing as nobody actually reads this blog, I think I'm safe using real names (Time to use that Child Molester Protection Charm). Secondly (yeah I'm going to number my talking points, what?) I haven't completely stolen my writing style from, the admittedly great, Mark Titus. Instead I've stolen it from Gabe Delahaye and Drew Magary. So instead of posting a video at the end of the post, I'm going to put videos wherever I want. Like this one. (Warning: Don't watch the video unless you want to be bombarded by profanity, lots and lots of profanity)

He really was 6 foot 20. Little known fact. Third, I'm all about sarcasm, or to put it more correctly verbal irony (thanks Ginny). So don't take the majority of what I write seriously. And finally, as you've prolly already figured out, I'm all about parentheses for use of questioning my writing and random shout outs to people who definitely aren't reading the blog. So let's do this thing!

_______________________________________________________________________________

Yeah, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakes, snakeskin.

_______________________________________________________________________________

I'm the short, fat, blonde, obnoxious one. Good Times.

_______________________________________________________________________________

I know you're all expecting me to comment on Duke winning the National Championship. Here's what I have to say: Haha! I never gave up on Brian Zoubek, he never gave up on me, and together we won it all (I'm actually on the team). Defying Ben's retarded predictions. Suck it Trebek.

_______________________________________________________________________________

So that's about it for me. I mean other than saying that I think I'm developing a major man crush on Roy Halladay. He's a monster. Also, Cole Hamels could never pitch as accurately as he does in the new xfinity commercial (What? You don't know what I'm talking about? You obviously don't watch enough Comcast Sportsnet)

I know what you're asking yourself and yes I did use Lucida Grande as my font this entire post-breaking all the rules over here,

Will

Be Forewarned

2010-04-06T00:01:00.004-04:00

If you haven't realized yet, my worst nightmares have occurred tonight. Yes, Duke, the evil empire, the Yankees of college basketball (how do you root for this team? Honestly) have won the NCAA tournament. That's right. Scheyer Face. Zombie Singler. Triangle-head Smith. Jar Jar Thomas. All now synonymous with champions. I know. I'm projectile vomiting too.

Sadly, this blog will undoubtedly be a domain for Duke support. It appears I have made Fat Dub an author at just the wrong time, because I know he will soon post about the Duke victory. I really don't know how long it will be, but just be warned that there will be much gloating about the Devils. I really wouldn't blame you if you stopped reading the blog for a few months or so.

The thing that makes Duke winning so troubling is not just that they are part of the royalty of college basketball. It's that they beat the feel-good story of the century. They were real life Hoosiers. In fact, Butler's gym is where Hoosiers was filmed. And their team was so likeable. When both of Babyface Hayward's shots went off the rim, my heart sank. They have a guy on their team with a last name of Jukes. Seriously. Tell me you wouldn't enjoy having that as your last name. The possibilities are endless. "He Jukes, he scores!!!!" or "Jukes jukes, they can't stop him." If that kid doesn't talk about himself in third person, power to him. And the biggest boss of the team by far is clearly Matt Howard. There are so many things to like about this guy. First of all, his mustache. You all know how much I like beards, but I'm not afraid to appreciate a ballsy mustache growing. Secondly, the man picked his nose during a game. Yes, during a game. And last, but definitely, definitely not least. During the last couple of seconds of this game, he laid the nastiest screen I have ever seen that is sure to give Zombie Singler a few more black eyes. It's good to know that even when Duke wins, I can still laugh at them a little bit.

To finish this post, I'm just going to make myself feel a little bit better, while ragging on Duke for just about as long as I possibly can before Fat Dub gets on here. This post's video will show Greg Paulus straight up eating man junk.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Farewell Five and Easter Jives

2010-04-04T21:35:00.011-04:00

On this Easter Sunday, an era has ended. In case you haven't heard, Donovan McNabb has been traded to the Redskins. My initial thoughts on the trade are as follows. I'm fine with trading McNabb. I doubt the Eagles would resign him after this season, and it would be better to get something from his value while you can. I do not, however, like that they traded him to the Redskins. Why trade him to a team that you play twice a year? For an organization that does a lot of arrogant things, this is just downright stupid.

This of course follows on the heels of trading Sheldon Brown and Chris Gocung for a 4th and 5th rounder, and a linebacker who has started 2 games in 2 years for the Browns. Not to mention the release of several others, including Shawn Andrews, Kevin Curtis, and Brian Westbrook, one of my favorite Eagles who I already touched on. Can you say rebuilding?

One thing that scares me in this trade is the relation between Donovan McNabb and John Elway. Up to this point in their careers, they are eerily similar. Both were said to have not been able to win the big game early in their careers, with a combined 4 Super Bowl losses between the two of them through each of their first 11 seasons. And through the same amount of games, they have similar yards per game and yards per attempt averages as well. In terms of touchdowns to interceptions, McNabb trumps Elway easily in both categories. This is what scares me. John Elway finally won the Super Bowl late in his career, when he was 38 years old in his 15th NFL season. McNabb is through 11 NFL seasons and is 33 years old. Who was Elway's coach in Denver when he finally won, you ask? It was Mike Shanahan. Interestingly enough, the Washington Redskins just got rid of the futile Jim Zorn in favor of an accomplished NFL coach, one with a track record of winning Super Bowls. Who would that be? The aforementioned Mike Shanahan. Look, I know the Redskins are a mess. If it were to ever happen it would take a lot of time. And yeah, I know. It is the Redskins. They tried the dumbest play in the history of the NFL last year. But the connections are there. I really don't want it to happen, but stranger things have happened before. Like Adam Sandler in a serious movie. So never say never.

In final, the McNabb trade is sort of like divorcing your wife, and giving your weird half-brother permission to marry her. You get rid of her, but you still have to see them both twice a year at Christmas and Easter. Talk about awkward.
___________________________________________________

While we are on the topic of Easter (What a transition. They should call me Segway Soup) I should tell you about my Easter Sunday with the Sobel's. The plan was to head over to my grandparent's house, and hear some more stories about the man, the myth, the legend himself from Grandpop, and maybe watch Grandmom dunk a little (If you're wondering, Grandpop had to take ESPN off their cable package for this month, just so Grandmom wouldn't get mad at the attention Britney Griner is getting for her achievements this tournament. Grandmom would posterize her, and we all know it). Unfortunately for Grandpop, Jeffrey J. caught wind of the latest blog post and let him have it for giving me all the information that I used. He and Uncle Kevin told me Grandpop's daily itinerary, which goes like this:

Wake up
Check the Soup Kitchen
Nap
Wake up
Read the Inquirer
Nap
Wake up
Check the Soup Kitchen
Eat
Shower
Sleep
Repeat

I'm going to be blunt here. That's probably the bossiest schedule I have ever heard of in my life. Granted he doesn't get out of the house much, except when he goes to Flyers games, but at least he is as loyal a fan as they come (to my blog and to the Flyers).

In other news, Uncle Kevin won the annual "Hit your Egg on the Other Person's Egg and Whoever's Cracks Loses" contest. If that doesn't sound like drama-filled family fun, I don't know what does.
___________________________________________________

With Opening Day tomorrow for the Fightin's, I thought it appropriate to relive some of last year's triumphs. While I couldn't find a solid video of J-Roll's walk-off in Game 4 of the NLCS (I was there. Greatest moment of my life? Yes) I could find the Postgame Live Crew's reaction to it. I just wanted to point out that while Barkann and Ricky Bo were, as you can see in the below video, legitimately freaking out, Dutch Daulton barely reacted. It's pretty obvious why. If you aren't familiar with Darren Daulton, he has been said to be a little crazy. In short, he claims to have visited the future. While on postgame live, he said the Phillies would win the National League pennant (interestingly enough, he never said the Phillies would win the World Series, which they obviously didn't). The reason he didn't react? Simple. He already saw it happen.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Jeffrey J.- Big Boss

2010-04-01T00:29:00.001-04:00

It's been a pretty lousy couple of weeks for the Sobel Soup. If you haven't noticed, my Villanova Wildcats were knocked out of the NCAA tournament by a Sandman, a miracle shot, and something that slightly resembles a human being. Making matters worse, Duke just advanced to the Final Four this weekend. Even though I have been harassed by a few fake Duke fans (it's only been one, actually: Clay Packel), but I have yet to hear from any of the main antagonists, such as J.D. Sparks XIV, Ibo DeGrouchy, or Fat Dub. No word on whether or not Jon Scheyer performed a Scheyer Face as he was cutting down the nets. You can bet it happened though, because Scheyer Faces are about as prevalent as Kyle Singler's zombie faces, which occur almost nightly.

In other tournament news, Ali Farokhmanesh shot his way into America's hearts, while simultaneously shooting down the Kansas Jayhawks, and the vast majority of this year's NCAA brackets, including mine. Even though the puns here are truly endless (not to mention inappropriate and very politically incorrect) I'm going to lay off.
___________________________________________________

I missed a lot while I wasn't blogging. I even neglected to cover Christmas, and believe me, it was a doozy. Grandpop, Jeffrey J.'s dad, was over, along with the rest of the family, and he had some stories to tell about your friend and my favorite. Apparently Jeff used to be a free spirit back in his college days, and Grandpop told everyone about this. At first, he brought up Jeff's affinity for changing majors. Jeffrey J. claimed to only have changed "a few times," which I guess means six or seven to him. Grandpop really dropped the dagger when he informed us of the "Jeff Sobel Memorial Library." Apparently, Jeff was very fond of using the University of Delaware school library (read: he never stepped foot in the place). Grandpop called him foolish and Jeff was ashamed, but I had a Ron Burgundy-Baxter moment. It really just showed me how much of a boss Jeffrey J. truly was, and still is.

All this talk about Jeff's college days made Uncle Kevin bring up some new information too. Turns out Jeff used to be a Private Investigator. He was so good, he almost had his own show, but they gave it to Magnum instead. A little disappointing, but how can Jeff be expected to compete with a mustache like that? It would be like watching ESPN's college football coverage without Lou Holtz's lisp and humongous glasses, or watching Greg Oden play without his beard. Something's missing, so history is better off with Magnum anyway. Besides, Jeff's job wasn't really as glorious as it sounds. Even though he was always on stake-outs, he supposedly just sat there for hours. He didn't even get donuts. If it doesn't sound boring to you, just trust me when I say it was.

Also, I would be remiss if I didn't tell all of you about one of my favorite Jeff stories of all time. Late one night, I was walking downstairs. I heard a large ruckus, and assumed it was a television show. Once I turned the corner, I realized Jeffrey J. was watching something on his computer. It wasn't just any thing, though, because I kid you not, Jeff was red in the face and tears were just about ready to come from his eyes. I had no idea what the video was about, but I assumed it was some sentimental home video. My world was full of complete shock when I looked at the screen, and saw Susan Boyle's Britain's Got Talent tryout. I legitimately fell on the ground laughing, and could not stop until maybe 10 minutes later. Jeff was pretty embarrassed, and he couldn't look at me in the face for about 3 days afterwards. It's probably because everytime I saw him I asked how Susan was. But he totally deserved it.
___________________________________________________

This post's video was sent in one of the blog's most faithful followers, Saumon Oboudiyat. Apparently he is a big Rush Hour fan, and this one makes him go "all aboard the ROFLCOPTER!!!" (Just so you all know, ROFLCOPTER actually means Rolling On the Floor Laughing Can't Operate Properly Til Eyes Refocus, but all the ballers use it as a laugh-mobile, like a helicopter of ROFL's) I do appreciate Chris Tucker's Michael Jackson impression, and he's got some nice dance moves to go along with it.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Beating Around the Bush

2010-03-17T23:22:00.000-04:00

Late last Friday night, Jake Enterlin and I were bored. We did the thing that any two young, 16 year old males with driver's licenses and money to blow would do on a Friday evening. Of course I am talking about hitting up the Target that just got put into the Springfield mall. For those of you who don't know, the Target has pretty much anything anyone anywhere has ever wanted. Except for real wiffleballs. But that's a different story. Moving on. Young T and I were scouring the aisles at Target, looking for that perfect something that would complete our night. We eventually made it down to the men's clothing department, which if you haven't visited at Target, is pretty baller. It's got some nice Elmo hats, which Nah B. Eric, better known as Noah Frick, bought and frequently rocks, not to mention some nice jumpsuits that would put even T.J. Adams's best collection to shame. Do not be mistaken, however. Me and TBD didn't waste our time toiling in these inferior garments. If you are not aware by now, which, quite frankly, you really should be, we are two pretty huge ballers. That's why we went straight for the undergarments section.

Now I know what you are thinking. "Woah, woah. Two guys in an undergarments section? That's the coolest thing ever! They probably bought underwear together and everything!" While that would be pretty neat, that's not what we did. Undershirts, along with underpants, fall in the category of undergarments. That is what TBD and I were shopping for. While he got some high quality undershirts that are silky smooth (and tagless!! Gotta love Hanes), I was the one who came out as the big winner. Also in the undergarments section happen to be wife beaters. Once I laid my eyes on these, I knew they had to be mine. Why a beater? There are a couple of reasons actually. I'm not sure this even has to be said, but I'll say it anyway: You can never have enough beaters. In my personal case, I had none. I guess you could say I was really in need of some beaters. Even if they do make me look like Kevin Federline (the skinny version). The second reason was my checkered past littered with experiences of bad beaters. Looking at them in the Target, I couldn't help but reminisce about the I Love Mammals video.

Unfortunately, the beater wasn't a great accessory of mine in that video. According to my good friend Kara Nac, it looked as if it was a woman's tank top. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I really got short-changed (props to Sloth Campbell for the word choice). It was Jack Eiel who lost one of the good wife beaters in school, leaving our crew with three good beaters, and one meant for a 5 year old. Of course the shortest member of the group who also happened to lose the beater that caused the problem got the bad one right? Wrong. The Sobel Soup had to get the bad one. No respect.

Anyway, TBD bought the undershirts, and I bought the beaters, and just so you know, we got them on sale. I'd be damned if two of the most eligible bachelors in the county couldn't find a decent price on a few hot commoditites. I've worn the beaters almost everyday since then, and they really are satisfying. The beater fits comfortably, yet it feels as if I'm not wearing anything at all.

We left the Target and then smashed a few mailboxes. I'm just kidding, we actually got some Longboys and some high quality dining from Wendy's drive-thru menu. What is a Longboy, you ask? They are kind of hard to describe, and I'm feeling really lazy right about now. So just look at this picture. There is no cap to them, but that is just an advantage. You see, most people who buy drinks from convenience stores don't have the ability to drive without spilling something with no cap. But when you've got skills like I do, there is nothing to worry about. To go along with that, they are cheaper and there is about 8 more fluid ounces of drink inside. Sound like the greatest deal ever? Yeah, I think so, too. There is really no point in asking what kind we got; of course we got Arnie Palmer's, the greatest Longboy/drink of all time. Everything you need to know is pretty much embodied in my favorite Sportscenter commercial. You saw correct. 50% Iced Tea. 50% Lemonade. 100% Delicious bliss.
___________________________________________________

The NCAA Tournament is right around the corner. And by right around the corner, I mean in about 12 hours. If you remember correctly, one of the best days of my young life was spent down at the Wachovia Center watching a day of basketball splendor. Also, Fat Dub managed to stay home from school that day to watch the games. I will do the same. I really hope it will be a great day, and of course, my Villanova Wildcats have to win for it to be a decent one at that. I'm thinking about tracking my day, similar to what I did last year on the blog. If I do anything interesting that you will want to read about, I'll be sure to do so.
___________________________________________________

Another reason I'm not going to school tomorrow is because I am simply worn out. I need a mental health day (which is better: that, or a rental health day?). Why do I need such a thing? It is probably because I have been organizing the pinnie order for the Strath Haven Student Section, better known as the Sons of Ben. You probably lost out on your chance to get a pinnie if you are finding out about this for the first time, but considering I got over 100 people to buy them, I consider it a major success. My job was simply to unify the student section, and to make opposing teams and fans tremble in our presence, and I'm fairly certain I did that. Not only that, but I have a feeling the pinnies are going to be BO$$. More on the Sons of Ben in a later post. Honestly, I'm a little tired, and could use some shut-eye.

The video I'm including this week is of Triumph, Conan's dog friend that he frequently sent out to do a little reporting. This was probably a while ago, but I find it downright hysterical nonetheless. Just as a favor, I'll link you to part two of the video here.

"Burger King: Where all dragon masters eat!"

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Respectfully Yours

2010-03-07T14:32:00.000-05:00

I know, it's been a while, but you are lucky you are even reading this right now. I've decided to take a break from my normal Sunday afternoon activities (which typically involve several hours spent napping, making historically-accurate raps, or playing Minesweeper) to blog on all of your faces for a little bit. I would be lying to you if I said I was just doing this out of the goodness of my heart; I have a legitimate reason for posting.

In Friday's issue of the Philadelphia Inquirer, Bob Ford wrote an article explaining why fighting is hockey's problem. On first glance, some of you may agree, while others may say that hockey is the only thing drawing people to the NHL. I don't officially fall in either of those groups, so I decided to just make my own category. It goes something along the lines of "This article is the most ridiculous thing I've ever read so I'm going to email you and tell you how bad it was, and dish out several low blows while doing it." If you are doubting me right now, you really shouldn't. I'm not one to worry about wasting time, after all I did make a track-athlete profile that no one could see, and there was that inspirational dodgeball speech for the tournament that never happened. So yes, I did email Bob Ford and tell him how much of a moron he was for writing something like that. Of course I'm not satisfied just telling you about this, that's why I'm copying the email below.

Mr. Ford,

I have read your article on fighting in hockey, and I find it utterly preposterous that you would claim that it is the reason the NHL is only the "4th sport," as you put it. First of all, I neither find something wrong with fights, nor do I support them. For the record, I would not be totally opposed to taking fights out of the game, at least to the extent that the Olympics does. But to claim that fighting keeps fans from watching is ludicrous, not to mention a complete fallacy.

Your entire argument is based on the premise that people watched the Olympics, yet they do not watch the NHL and that the difference between Olympic hockey and the NHL is the prevalence of fighting. Because of those two factors, you claim fighting is the problem. The ratings variance is not related to fighting; it so clearly hinges upon the disparity of players' abilities that it makes me question whether you were thinking sanely when writing up this article or if you simply had nothing to write about and decided upon this. Can you name an NHL team that has a player as good as Mike Richards or Jonathan Toews on its fourth line? How about Bobby Ryan? Drawing blanks? Me too. The fact is, the level of play for international hockey so far surpasses that of the NHL, that it is irrational to think the same people would tune in to watch a full, 82 game hockey season if fighting were banned. If the Olympics had the same rules for fights as the NHL did, the viewership Sunday may have dipped ever-so-slightly, but it would not be as low as NHL playoff games currently are. To claim otherwise insults not only your intelligence, but the intelligence of your readers as well.

Thank you for hearing me out.

Respectfully yours,

Bennett J. Sobel

I read the email off to Jeff, and needless to say, he was loving it. His favorite parts were "it makes me question whether you were thinking sanely when writing up this article" and "Drawing blanks? Me too." He claimed I was "dogging" Ford, but I think he deserved it. I offset that by calling him Mr. Ford and ending the letter with a respectfully yours. I can criticize him all I want, but at the end of the day, his article probably got slightly more hits than my blog. Plus he writes for the Inquirer, so he is technically my superior, which is why I addressed him as Mr.

He probably has no idea that I am a 16 year old blogger with nothing better to do, which may explain why he hasn't answered me yet. Or it could be that he hasn't recovered from being schooled several times by a random emailer. Either way, if he ever does respond I'll be sure to put it on the blog.
___________________________________________________

During my two and a half month leave of absence, the NCAA basketball season has been going on. It doesn't really need to be said, but I've been following my Villanova Wildcats as faithfully as ever. It was smooth sailing in the beginning of the season, they were 20-1 and had a No. 2 national ranking. Unfortunately, the Wildcats have limped into the Big East tournament, going 4-5 in their last 9 games, including 2-4 in their last 6, making for an overall record of 24-6. I'm disappointed to say the least, and not feeling very confident of success in the NCAA tournament for my Wildcats. But with a good showing in the Big East tournament, all of that can easily change, and I really hope it will. At the end of the day, we still have the Big East player of the year (at least he should be) Scottie Reynolds, a solid starting lineup with accomplished guards, and great depth. I'm not backing out of my prediction of NCAA champions that I made way back in the summer, I would just like to see them play well in the Big East tournament so I can feel good again.

In more exciting news, two people I know have seen/met a Villanova basketball player in recent weeks. The first was O-Star Superstar, who was getting a shape-up while Reggie Redding walked into the same barbershop as him. Of course he didn't say anything, because O-Star would obviously make a fool out of himself, and he knows it. So wisely he kept his mouth shut. The second person to meet Villanova basketball players was my sister, Lizzie (better known as Sizzie) who met and had a conversation with Antonio Pena and Reggie Redding in a Lids store. She happened to be buying me a Villanova hat at the same time they were getting other hats customized, and Antonio sparked up conversation. Only knowing that would have made my day, but she hunted down a Sharpie and got the two guys to sign it for me. I'll probably make a shrine in my room for the hat, not to mention the receipt they also signed.
___________________________________________________

I should also add that the Soup Kitchen will be home to a new poster, Fat Dub. Because my posts are few and far between, and because he is a far superior writer than I am, I invited him to be a co-poster. This will suffice all of your Soup Kitchen fixes and add some variety to the blog. This isn't to say there will be posts everyday, but there will certainly be more than there had been before. I look forward to sharing this domain with my boy, Fat Dub. I just hope he doesn't blog about Duke.
___________________________________________________

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the release of Brian Westbrook. I can't help but think about when the Eagles released B-Dawk last year, which is one of the main reasons I started the Soup Kitchen in the first place. He was the greatest Eagles running back of all time, and I will root for him to have success anywhere he goes. As a tribute to B-West, I am including a some highlights of him for the awesome video of this post. My personal favorite moment is the punt return touchdown he had in the waning moments vs. the Giants.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Art of Failure

2009-12-22T14:42:00.000-05:00

I don't fail at many things. Generally, I'm at least decent at everything I have ever done. This includes things ranging from rapping songs to wrapping gifts (God, I love puns). Even though I have been exposed to failures, I never really experienced it before.

There are plenty of examples of failure around us. Fail blog made a website about it. There is a movie made called The Failures. There are even examples in the NFL, in the form of the Washington Redskins. They are an awful team to start with, but their disastrous trick play they tried to pull last night on the Giants brought their atrocity of a season to a whole new level of bad. I actually saw this live last night, and started laughing before the play began. After seeing a few replays, I decided it was one of the funniest attempts and subsequent failures I had ever seen. Maybe that exposure to failure helped cause what happened to me today.

Today, I failed my driver's test. (This would be a perfect FML) Quite frankly, I am a fine driver. I'm probably the only person in the history of Pennsylvania to actually complete the required 50 hours of driving, yet I still failed. How, may you ask? I could tell from the start that it wasn't going to end well.

Jeffrey J. and I rolled up at the DMV looking fresh to death in our brand-spankin' new (read: several month old) Subaru. We both had on suits, since he went to work earlier, and I had to dress up for school, since I'm a basketball manager and all. We were just chilling there, jamming to some Christmas carols to get into the spirit. My test administrator came walking out of the building, and it was then that I had a bad feeling about what would happen next. This guy was really, really old. In fact, he had so many wrinkles, it looked like his face could be a topographic map of San Francisco. Once he stepped in the car, one thing was clear to both of us. He was intimidated by me, since I was obviously the better dressed of the two of us, and he was the one working. The elephant in the room, or car, just wouldn't leave. Fortunately for him, it didn't last long. We were driving to go take the parking portion of the test when we reached a stop sign. I stopped; naturally I didn't want to fail. Then I continued on to go park.

If any of you have ever parallel parked, it really is not that difficult. I am pretty good at it, or so I thought. I started out too far away, and went a little too fast. The old guy riding with me claims that I hit the barrel in the back. It was pretty obvious to me that I didn't come close to hitting it. He was probably just imagining things. I cut the guy a break; he was old after all. He told me pull out and pull down the driveway. I looked at him kind of funny, because I clearly had not parallel parked yet. I followed his instructions and pulled into a parking space. He told me I failed because I hit the barrel. Then he added on that I "rolled" the stop sign. Of course I was shocked, appalled, and very angry since neither of these things happened. It would have been impossible for him to determine whether or not I hit the barrel. Again, he was very old, so for him to hear or see something in the present conditions would have been very unlikely. Come to think of it, he definitely was imagining things. As for the stop sign, the Sobel Soup is a busy man. I have places to go and people to see, ladies and gentlemen, and if he can't accept that I guess I'll just have to ask for a new instructor next time.

He gave me some advice for next time: Stop at the sign, say S-T-O-P out loud, and then proceed. I wanted to ask him what the odds are that anyone has ever done that while actually driving a car, ever. I restrained, because I didn't want to get kicked out of the DMV, and not be able to retake my test. If anything, a person should be rewarded for not saying S-T-O-P out loud. Let's say someone did that out on the actual roads. Can you imagine what the guy behind him would do? I, for one, would lay down the horn. Plus, by concentrating so hard on saying S-T-O-P, a person would lose focus on the roads and might even get into a crash. It annoys the hell out of me already, and I'm just typing it.

Basking in my defeat, I had nothing else to do but to try and make a pun. Unfortunately, the only thing I came up with was Penn-Don't, a play off PennDot which is another failure in itself. I'm just going to stop while I'm ahead.

___________________________________________________

One thing that didn't fail recently was Nota, who won the Sing Off title, and the 100 G's that go with it, last night. If you may recall, I predicted this almost a week ago. Sure enough it came true. What else do you expect?

___________________________________________________

No one sent in a video for this post (a further example of my failure), so I decided to put in a video I have recently discovered. I used to not like Jared Allen very much, mainly because he has the dumbest sack dance known to man. But since I saw this video, he is instantly my favorite NFL player who is not on the Eagles. I would just like to say before you all watch this, that I have since followed Jared's advice about a few topics. If anyone ever asks me if I want extra mayonnaise, I will indeed say yes. And I will try to shape my chest hair in a heart, to see if it is as tight as he claims it to be.

"Damn, he likes to party. With two r's"

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Return of the Sobel Soup

2009-12-16T21:26:00.001-05:00

I know you can't believe your eyes right now. Neither can I. It had been way too long, and like Dan Quayle once said: "What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is." I thought I would take DQ's advice to heart and not waste my talents not writing on this blog. Then again, this was the same man who once said "We all lived in this century. I didn't live in this century," so taking advice from him might not be the smartest idea. It wouldn't shock me if you were doubtful of the fact that Dan Quayle actually said those things, but trust me, he did. I found it on one of those quote pages. Speaking of which, I stumbled across one of those for me during English class this year with Squeaky Eiel. Even though he says it is pathetic to Google yourself, everybody and their mother does it from time to time. Some extremely kind reader submitted my quote to this website. Thanks to the person who submitted it, and to those of you who only rated it 3 stars, shame on you.

___________________________________________________

As far as sports goes, I have missed a lot. This includes the Phillies unfortunate loss to the Yankees in the World Series. I did happen to be at Game 4 of the NLCS, yes that game. Needless to say, me and Jeffrey J. were jumping for joy at the end of the game. Oh yeah, we also happened to be on TV. I received a few texts saying that Jeff and I had been on the tube. Yes, it was probably the greatest night of my life. And yes, when I got home I did text everyone in my phonebook telling them that I was on television.

The Phillies have made big news today, as well. Of course I am talking about trading Cliff Lee and prospects to the Mariners and Blue Jays for Roy Halladay. My jury is still out on how much I like the deal. Also, I'm fairly disappointed in the fact that we traded away Michael Taylor, one of those prospects. Fat Dub went to see a Reading Phillies game once and saw Taylor play. What Fat Dub witnessed that night was legendary. Michael Taylor went 5-5, hit for the cycle, his second home run being the game winner. He was impressed, and I trust Fat Dub's scouting abilities.

The Eagles are looking fantastic, even without the baller of that defense, Stewart Bradley, who looks like Fletch with that haircut (props to Uncle Kevin on the Fletch information). The Flyers really aren't looking too good, and the Sixers are just downright pathetic.

___________________________________________________

One reason for my neglect of the blog has been my constant school activities. I have started writing for the Panther Press, and in the latest issue I interviewed Gino 'Gig' Miraglia. Just as a preview, I'm looking to interview Wisconsin hero, and blog-hater, T.J. Adams next. I made a promise to TBD that I would interview him, but I'm saving that for baiseball season. I also played soccer for the school. Before the season started, after a long day of playing, the team decided to go out to get some food. Bradley Pratzner, a good friend of mine, discovered an all-you-can-eat chicken wings offer for that night. It was a great plan. The offer also happened to be at Hooters. That made it an even greater plan.

It was my first time eating at Hooters, and the food wasn't all that. I honestly have no idea how the place stays in business. Anyway, several guys were there, including my boy XR, Xander Rizzello, who said he would rather kill a human being than a dog, in defense of Donte Stallworth over Michael Vick. I'm going to stay away from those two specific cases, but I'm just going to say that what Xander said that day rivals Dan Quayle's quotes for the dumbest things I have ever heard. It's alright though, because X does a killer impersonation of Pete Luzak. Kelsey and Nick were also there, and you know from my past blog posts that they have an affinity for claiming it to be my birthday, when it really isn't. Of course, they told the waitresses there that it was my birthday. Now, this was one of the most humiliating moments of my life (so far). To put it simply, I was flustered. At first when they invited me up, I cowered in the corner for the whole restaurant to see. Then, when I finally gathered up the courage to walk to where they wanted me to, they asked me my age. This totally caught me off guard. At first I said 17, but then I quickly changed my answer to 16. I'm sure it made it sound as if it wasn't my birthday. That probably had something to do with what the Hooters girls made me do next. I was forced to stand up on a chair, holding a plastic cup with my mouth and holding two take-out trays under each arm. They were my beak and my wings, of course. Then the entire restaurant preceded to sing Happy Birthday to me, while I flapped my wings in shame. When I sat down, one of the Hooters girls pretty much pulled an Annalise Penikis and ate a Big Mac on me. (Shout-out! Even though she will probably kill me!!) Still basking in my embarrassment, I just wasn't having any of it. She got the message pretty quickly when I told her "I have no idea where I got my shirt, and I don't find it relevant at all." In retrospect, I totally spat in her Big Mac. So this is my formal apology: I'm sorry, Hooters girl.

Most of you know how I like following in the footsteps of my inspiration, Mark Titus. It's odd to say this, but I may have out-Titused Titus this year. First, I sat on the end of the bench all soccer season (I did happen to score one goal. It was glorious). It was a lot of fun, even though I wasn't high enough on the totem pole to be Strath Haven's version of the Human Victory Cigar. I'm not cool enough to be one, seeing as Omari was the first (and best) for Swarthmore last season. Besides sitting on the bench for soccer, I have also become the manager for the basketball team.

One of the reasons I have decided to start the blog up again is that I was specifically asked by K-Vale, Kevin Valentino, when the next post would be. He asked me this on the basketball bus, so I thought it was appropriate to include that in this section. Anyway, Mark Titus was the manager for the Ohio State basketball team too, before he started playing as a walk-on. The only difference between us is that he has a wet jumper, while I (only sometimes) have wet pants, thanks to the lady who spilled her water all over me during the Marple Newtown game.

Not only am I managing the basketball team, but I also run winter track. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. Winter track, basketball manager, soccer team, Panther Press, the Soup Kitchen, various other small-sided tasks. How do I do it? The truth is I'm not really sure. Even though I have more on my plate than Tiger Woods does, I'd say I'm handling it pretty well.

I joined winter track for a few reasons. One of them was that I thought it was called "Indoor track." I learned the hard way that distance runners don't run inside (By the way, have you ever noticed that distance runners is an extremely unspecific term. Everyone that does track runs at least some distance, so, technically, everybody is a distance runner). Another reason I saw fit to join was the fact that Coach Ed coaches winter track as well. This, believe it or not, has fallen to pieces too. The other day at intervals, Coach Ed started yelling at me. In hindsight, he didn't really yell at me, and I actually did deserve it. I sort of went on a full sprint in the outside lane (It only let me pass about half of the runners. Take that statistic as you will) and finished with a Desmond Howard Heisman pose. The last part probably would have been fine, if I wasn't supposed to be running while I was doing it. We had our first meet on Saturday, and I hate it already. Besides the fact that we have to wear really, really short shorts (repetition at its finest), I faced other kids who are more athletically-gifted and who have better work ethic than I do. Oh yeah, and we have to wake up at 6 in the morning. Track is seeming more and more like a great decision to me every day.

___________________________________________________

In the past few days, I have taken a likening to the show The Sing Off. If you haven't been watching, you need to. And I'm saying this now so no one takes my idea: Nota is the best, and they are going to win the entire thing. Their rendition of Down last night was probably the best thing I have ever seen.

___________________________________________________

Over Thanksgiving, I was lucky enough to spend time with my family. We happened to go to Midnight Madness at the Limerick Outlets, and it was truly Madness. We snuck in a backway to beat the traffic, and it was really a sight to behold, even though we didn't end up buying anything. We actually ended up going to the Ruby Tuesdays. Yes, it was 2 in the morning, but, just like Lucky Charms, their brunch menu was magically delicious. The person who was loving it the most was my cousin, David (For the record, the person who was loving it the least was my cousin Evan. He got left at home). He said he had the most fun he ever had in his life. The scary, and somewhat pathetic part (sorry Dave) is that he is being truthful. David also recommended a video for me to use for my next blog entry. He had been bugging me about it, so there was no way I wasn't going to use it. Also, it was a great selection. I had never seen this video of Carlton, and it is better than any Fresh Prince link I have ever put on here. Without further ado, the World Famous Carlton Dance.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Best Beards in Baseball: The 2009 Philadelphia Phillies

2009-09-20T21:39:00.000-04:00

It certainly has been a while since my last post. In fact, it has been five weeks by this Monday. I'm sure most, if not all, of you thought this blog was dead, but I'm here to quell those rumors. This post is probably going to be very rusty, but the potential of this comeback is limitless. Come to think of it, I feel eerily similar to Michael Vick. Except instead of being away for almost two years, it's only been a month. And instead of spending my time in federal prison, I spent it in the comfort of my own home and unfortunately, school.

That brings up another thing that has happened since I last posted. Summer has ceased to exist and the dreaded school year has started up again. I, for one, find it ironic how everyone painfully awaits the end of school to get here, only to do mostly nothing once it actually comes. All that talk is moot now, though, since summer is over.

One reason I like baseball is because the season goes from the end of one school year, through the summer months, and through the start of the new school year. Another reason why I like baseball is the facial hair stylings of my hometown Philadelphia Phillies.

It is no secret to anyone that I love beards. Whether it be Greg Oden's beard, in all its mystical glory, or Kurt Warner's buzz beard, I have repeatedly been mesmerized by beards, and my lack of ability to grow them, in the blog. It may be a coincidence that I am subject to viewing the team with the greatest collection of facial hair in the league. For example, if someone asks me Phillies or Yankees, you all know what I will answer (TBD has been notorious for asking this question, with the answer being a little different than mine. Think almonds). It will of course be the Phillies, just because of their beard-growing ability. The Yankees aren't even allowed to have facial hair. In fact, they robbed the world of viewing a real-life Geico caveman from playing in baseball. Even if Johnny Damon didn't shave, the Phillies could do them one better, leading us to the first Fightin' on our list: The Wolfman.

1. Jayson Werth. Although he isn't as close to being "Big Sexy with the Glasses" as he was with the Orioles (if you didn't click on that link, trust me, you want to), he still makes looks damn good with his skinny goatee. That along with his beard (when he wants to have it) make for a look anyone would be jealous of.

2. Eric Bruntlett. This is truly a beard that Greg Oden would be jealous of. The fact that it covers his whole face makes for a wonderful piece of facial hair, not to mention that the consistent thickness of the beard makes it fit for a lumberjack. Call me crazy, but Bruntlett being blonde makes for a unique, yet much appreciated change-up from dark beards everywhere. (Honorable mention for this type of beard: Pedro Feliz. Pete Happy's beard is neither as full nor is it as recognizable, but I applaud his effort.)

3. Raúl Ibáñez. Rauuuuuuuuul (which originated with Raul G. Ordoñez, the greatest player in Swarthmore basketball history) is more of a classy guy, so he doesn't have any absurd looking goatees or full beards like his counterparts. Instead, he goes all class, with a simple soul patch. It says "I'm a gentleman, but I know how to show a lady a good time." In particular, I imagine said good time going down at some type of 70's disco.

4/5. Brad Lidge and Scott Eyre. The reason I am grouping these two relievers together is because they are both Greg Oden beard wanna-be's. There is a downside to this pursuit, seeing as Eyre is on the disabled list and Brad Lidge is having a worse season than, well, I can't really think of anyone who has had a worse season than Brad Lidge right now.

6. Brett Myers. I'm not showing this beard on the blog because honestly, it is atrocious. I do not want to make the readers of this blog simultaneously vomit and laugh hysterically, even though I would like to see what something like that would look like. Anyway, it's almost as bad as Ryan Franklin's beard, which I'm not even going to link here. It's half out of laziness, and half out of the policy that I'm not allowed to link something that I can't even look at myself on the blog.

Honorable Mentions: Chad Durbin (just as much neck as it is chin), Chase Utley (rugged), and Ryan Howard (all chin).

___________________________________________________

With the start of school also comes the start of football season. Don't be mistaken by my lack of talk about the Eagles, they are my team. By "my team," I mean my favorite team. Come to think of it, they aren't as beloved as the Swarthmore Garnet Men's Soccer team, but besides that, there is no team that rivals them. Not even the Villanova Wildcats.

Also coming with football is fantasy football. This was previously my territory, probably even more so than blogging. I figured out that I had literally won 40 straight games on Yahoo. That is before last week, when I was taken down by O-Star Superstar. It was only because of Drew Brees, who faced the Detroit Lions, and their pathetic secondary. I was thinking of having me, Fat Dub, Jeffrey J. and my Grandmom (the one that can dunk) guest start for the Lions' secondary just to stop Drew Brees in Week 1. I probably should have, since he threw for 6 touchdowns and all. Anyway, what's done is done, and the loss is overwith. I'll recover somehow. When I realized I had lost on Tuesday morning, I listened to my favorite post-loss song at least 1,341 times. Something tells me my three-headed running back tandem of Michael Turner, Steven Jackson, and LaToeInjury Tomlinson were listening to it as well.

___________________________________________________

It has been a while since I've posted, so I'm bypassing the video requests this post in favor of one of my favorite videos. Ever. Shaq got a raw deal for this rap, because in my opinion (and in TBD's), it is one of the illest freestyles ever.

"I love em', I don't leave em'. I got a vasectomy, now I can't breed em'"

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

A Guide to the Internet- Part One: AIM

2009-08-14T00:39:00.000-04:00

With the internet taking over our everyday lives now more than ever, I figured there would be no better time than now to help the homeless out in gaining important knowledge about the Internet. Technically, I could go all Video Professor on you, but I'm going to cater to the people on this one. Since the majority of my readers are of the younger generation who use Facebook and AIM, I'll talk mostly about that. Originally, I was only going to do one post guiding the use of the Internet. Since seeing how much information I can put in just on AIM, this is going to be Part One of a Two (or maybe more) part series.

AIM stands for AOL Instant Messenger, and it is a useful way for young people, such as myself, to interact among each other. You have to be at least 13 years old to sign up for it, but everyone and their mother knows that if you don't sign up for it before you're 13, you're a square. I'm not certain if there is a maximum age you can be, but I've never seen a person over 25 use AIM. So to all of you older folks out there, if you don't want to be arrested by your local police force for child molestation, I whole-heartedly advise against the use of AIM.

That being said, the rest of this advice goes for those who are of age to be using such a tool. First things first: picking a screenname. I'm 100% sure that anyone reading this blog has made at least one screenname in their lifetime, but the number of you that have made a foolish one is probably a high one as well. I too am subject to abuse when it comes to bad choices of names. I once made one named, and I'm not kidding when I tell you this, "accheeriosbox913." That's right. Apple Cinnamon Cheerios Box. As my screenname. It humiliates me to this day that I made that, albeit in the seventh grade. What was going through my head you may ask? I have no idea. Other screenname failures include whosurdady82 and oxocrashintomeoxo. Putting any saying in your name, in this case an extremely ridiculous one, is never a good idea. Not only that, but the misspelling of "your" makes this abismal name worse. This masterpiece was thought up by none other than O-Star Superstar, basking in all of his glory. The other bad idea is a song name, or any other thing that could go with it. Crash into me is probably the cheesiest thing this side of nachos. This beaut of an sn was courtesy of Val Keller. Another bad idea for a screenname is using an athletes name. A perfect example of this is Fat Dub's adrianpeterson1. Even though he did make this way back in AP's freshman year at OU, it could confuse some people, maybe tricking them into thinking they are talking to the actual Adrian Peterson, and not just a rabid fan. Just clarification, if you would possibly make it something to the effect of PurpleJesus, or a different cool nickname, that would be totally fine. But the full name of an athelete just doesn't cut it.

That's the worst of the worst for bad screennames. But how do you make a good screenname? It usually involves some portion of your name and/or nickname and your favorite numbers. In my own case, I use my initals and my favorite numbers, as does Joe Raymond (who was the only other person I could find that did this). Other acceptable things to put in are a certain sport you play, a favorite sports team or anything concerning money. For guys, you are done making your screenname. For the females, you have a choice to make. You can keep it plain and simple or you can add a few variances to yours, just to add that special something that you presumably bring to the table. This can be done by putting x's or o's at the beginning and/or end of the screenname. If one chooses to put any x's or o's in the screenname, it is recommended that you align them from beginning to end. For example, xorandomgirlox is better than just xorandomgirl or randomgirlxo. Alignment of the x's and o's are key. Another choice a female can make is the adding of multiple letters to any part of the screenname she feels requires emphasis. Adding any of these features by a male could be harmful in more ways than one, and I forewarn all of you males to not do it.

That covers the screennames. Next is the lingo. Whether you are young or old, surely you have heard of an acronym of some sort. The most famous one is obviously lol, standing, of course, for laughing out loud. I have had countless arguments with Ali Lohan look-a-like Julia Reitenbach (I probably spelled that last name wrong, but I like it that way. It shows more disrespect) about the use of lol as an -ing or -ed verb. She seems to think if she is currently laughing out loud or if she just laughed out loud, she should describe it as loling or loled. As you can see, this is complete mockery of the english language. That translated out would be Laughing out loud-ing or Laughing out loud-ed. If you wanted to stress that you are laughing out loud at the current time, you can simply say lingol, or you could just not use it. But for the translations sake, it makes no sense. That is why I stay away from the lol's. I feel they are too impersonal anyway. This is why I suggest the use of haha's. Lol is too short of a saying to have any meaning, but haha's can be extended into hahah, hahaha, or if it's really funny, hahahaha. If something is so outrageous, one can even capitalize it to HAHAH. That is usually the furthest you can go with the capitalizations of haha's, because HAHAHAHA is just a little overbearing. But if you want to embellish upon the lol, LOL really doesn't change much, and lolololol really makes no sense. This is another instance when a female's version of haha differs from the male's. While men are strictly limited to haha, girls can usually get away with a bahahahaha, but it has to be a long laugh. The origin of the b replacing the h in the haha is an oft-debated subject. Some claim that it is representative of a long, evil laugh, explaining why it would have to be long to effective. A small following has come to believe that it was the love for the Baha Men that did it. And they have a good point. Seriously, show me one person whose life was not drastically changed after listening to "Who Let the Dogs Out?" for the first time. I know mine was. Again, it is forbidden for men to use the term bahaha.

You may find yourself in an AIM situation where you are talking to a total creeper who is trying to make way too many jokes for his or her own good. This is when the use of just "ha" is necessary and essential for you to keep your sanity in check. And the use of "ha" goes both ways. When someone says ha to you, take it as a message to stop telling jokes, and stop right now. This is not to be confused with hah, which is just a break from saying haha. That one h makes a huge differenece, trust me.

The general use of acronyms is not looked upon well if you are older than 12. It's like Jeffrey J. says: "If you want to be an adult, you have to talk like one." For that reason, typing mostly everything out is a must. Some things, such as idk- for I don't know, gtg/g2g- for gotta go, and others that I will name later, are acceptable. But ik- for I know, is pushing it, and anything beyond that is really unnacceptable. I'm going to tell you the golden rule of acronyms; remember it always. Like the Sobel Soup's Inspirational Speech, this too is copyrighted. When in doubt, write it out. It's as simple as that, boys and girls.

Just clarifying here, this is one of the most important points I have to tell you about. If you are a girl, feel free to hold down any letter at any time in any word. It just adds emphasis, and you are allowed to do it whenever: happy, sad, anything. For males, any and all use of letter-holding is strongly discouraged, and should only be used in a time of great confidence or great distress. Use this wisely or don't use it at all, because it has been known to be the downfall of many great AIM users who have never since recovered.

Now that you have the screennames and the abbreviations down, it is time for you to learn how to start your conversations. This is a very special tradition that has evolved over the years. No matter if you are in sixth grade or in college, you always start out the conversation with a version of a hello. It could be hello, hi, yo, hey, or anything else (girls can again hold down any letter), whether you start the conversation or answer a message, you should use a greeting. After that is when you ask what's up. It is acceptable for the person answering an IM to say what's up, or some version of it, as a greeting. Now, there are several different ways to ask and answer the question "What's up?" You could say sup, what up, whats up, whats good, whats goin on, or even whats cookin (Uncle Don's favorite). While it is grammatically correct to include the apostrophe, you usually shouldn't do it, because it will make the person you are talking to think you care too much about the conversation you are holding. And believe me, perception is everything in this situation. If you are bold enough, or if you are nearing the age of 10, you could go with whats ^ or even w^. Believe it or not, when I first got my screenname I asked what was up by saying w^. The w stands for what's and the ^ is pointing up, obviously. If you want to get bilingual, you can always go with a que tal, or my personal favorite, que paso. If asked in a different language, it is the norm to answer in that same language.

How does one answer to this? Presumably nothing is up, or, since you are on AIM, you are just relaxing. The typically answer is nothing, nothing much, or the acronym for that, nm (which is completely acceptable). Others include chillin, chillen (spelling variation shows you don't care), just chillin, or its acronym jc (also accepted). If you are the person who was asked, it is considered rude to not ask the person what is up with them. Never, under any circumstance, ask them whats up, or sup, or something that was just described in the paragraph above. You can include a "u" on the end of nm or jc, or you can just leave it by itself following your answer. A "you?" will do just fine, as will how about you, or its acronym hbu. Going with the bilingual theme, y tu or y usted is a must for a spanish whats up. Feel free to cut out the y (spanish for and) and to hold down the last letter in all of these if you are a female.

Back in the sixth grade, these were the extents of the conversations I had with 95% of my AIM friends. Seriously, if I saw a person sign on, I would go through with this, and at the end of all of it say something like "sweet" or "cool." They would typically respond with "yeah" and that would be the end of it. I would always hope to not be the person to ask what was up, so I could say sweet or cool at the end, just to feel superior, because everyone knows it's the cool kid who gets to say sweet or something to that effect. This was usually done when people greeted me first, but even if I greeted them first, at times I waited them out so they would be forced to say what's up. It would break all rules of AIM if no what's up was said. If I really wanted to have the last word, I would follow up a "yeah" from them with a "yeah" of my own. A typical conversation went as such:

Ben: yo

Other person: yo

Ben: w^

Other person: nmu

Ben: same jc

Other person: nice

Ben: yeah

While writing this, I have just realized that I currently have these AIM conversations with Pete, or tdgeo. Besides him, the other conversations I have go a little deeper than that, but they always start out the same way. It just wouldn't feel right any other way.

Now that you know how to start/sustain conversations, you need to learn about away messages and buddy profiles. First things first, away messages. It can sometimes get annoying if you talk to people with an away message up, because it always pops up after they send an IM to you, even if you IM them first. I am notorious for this, and I have even been taken off the buddy list of my dear friend Clay Packel for this reason. For clarification purposes, away messages are not the same as statuses. You can have a status even if you are not away, and Macs allow you to put the song you are listening to as your status. That is the coolest thing ever, and those of us without Macs (me) wish we could have it that way. I strongly advise any of you with Macs to turn this feature on. Only if listening to something fruity or down-right creepy should you take it off. But other than songs, don't update your status, just go away. If you are doing something witty/fun that you want people to know about, you can put it as your away message. For example, if you are going to a sporting event or a concert, you can leave it as your away message. Inside jokes or anecdotes are also accepted. An oddity can also be an away message. For example, one time last year I was getting an outdoor haircut from Aunt Judy. Since this was the first (and hopefully only time) this would be happening, I left my away message as "getting an outdoor haircut." While this is acceptable on occasion, away messages like these get a little old after a while. Try to limit them to twice a month at a maximum. Saumon Oboudiyat is known for these away messages. Except instead of leaving them up twice a month, he leaves them up about 10 times a day. It is acceptable for him, though, because he is small and dark-haired (that didn't make sense).When you don't feel like signing off, but you aren't doing anything of note, you can always leave an away message like bbl (be back later), or brb (be right back). Another option is to leave a blank away message, like Down-C does. I've never seen anyone else besides him do it, but it is effective. Or you could go with the default one of "I am away from my computer right now." If you are having a seemingly hilarious conversation with someone who makes some funny remarks, you can leave those remarks, screenname of the buddy included, up as your away message as well. This goes under the category of "AIM camaraderie," which is always accepted.

Also accepted under camaraderie is the use of funny quotes from a buddy into your profile as well. If something someone says is "profile-worthy" as I like to say, it can go in. It is all in the eye of the beholder as to what is profile-worthy. Also popular in buddy profiles are funny videos or other links. For example, in my buddy profile I currently have a link to the Soup Kitchen and to I Love Mammals. Countdowns that are updated daily are encouraged only for females, who again may use as many letters as they please, but they are not looked upon in a positive light for males to have such a thing in said profile. Some people can even put lyrics to a song in, even though that is usually, but not always, for girls. A buddy profile is pretty much your space to express yourself in.

The last thing you should edit is your buddy icon. This is similar to the buddy profile in that it allows for personal expression, in the form of a picture for the icon. It can be anything from a favorite picture of your own to an inside joke. For example, my buddy icon is Leonardo DiCaprio. I have it set as such because I think he is one of the most ballin' actors of this generation, and I love his movies. Others, especially those with Macs, have their own pictures for the icons. Other acceptable items are sports teams, old cartoon characters, or even an animated one. Seriously, nearly anything is inbounds here, because almost everything can be looked at as a joke. So have fun with this, if anything, because it almost has no boundaries.

One last tidbit of information: try not to go into chat rooms. Unless you are having a throw-back to middle school night (like me and the former TBD, Jake Enterlin, often have), you do not want to have a chat room. Even if you are trying to work something out between multiple buddies, you can do it without creating/joining a chat. It's just not worth taking the reputation hit. Trust me.
___________________________________________________

With me just writing the longest post in the Soup Kitchen's history (does this rival any of Gusalina's posts for length? I doubt it), I figured I would end it with the shortest video in the history. Actually, I'm not sure if this counts as the shortest video, because it is 1:13. But technically these are all 1-second commercials, so it should count. Anyway, I hope you enjoy watching this guy as much as I do, because personally I think the commercial about the VIP section is one of the most HQ (high quality- an acronym for you) commercials I've ever seen ("Common Sense ain't on the guest list.")

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Soup's 17 Degrees of Separation

2009-08-03T16:49:00.001-04:00

I probably sound like a broken record by now, but it has again been quite a while since I last posted. It's not like any of you check this everyday anyway (besides you, Grandmom and Grandpop (Parenthetical inside of a parenthetical: Many of you may think it is harmful to my psyche that my grandparents are my biggest fans. That's quite the contrary. If you knew my grandparents, you would be the happiest person in the world, as I presently am. Just as an example to show you how baller this duo is, Lisa Leslie was actually not the first woman to dunk. That would be my grandmother.)) so I'm not doing anyone any harm. Besides, like Jeffrey J. always told me, "If you don't have anything to say that is beneficial to society, don't say it all." ("It's funny because he actually said that"- Sam Soupy Huestis (PIP: AMPAP for the nickname. I love acronyms!!)) That has certainly been the case for me over the past few weeks. Anyway, I have actually counted out the days since I last posted, and the count is officially at 17. Since it's been so long, I've decided to give you all a gift in which I'm going to go all Kevin Bacon on you, and just do some weird rambling, so just bear with me. In all likelihood, you will be lost during this entire post. Now following the rules of their degrees of separation, this first connection technically is my 0th degree. Now let's get started.

0. Not blogging for a while has been very tough for me. I love blogging even more than I love O.A.R. And hey, I love me some O.A.R. Almost as much as...

1. Terrence Williams loves him some Jay Bilas. Seriously, when I heard about this, I could see the love affair happening right in front of me. I know it's random, but I had to put it in, just because of my love for college basketball, and my Villanova Wildcats. Speaking of which...

2. Reggie Redding has recently been arrested for possession of marijuana. I know it takes a little wind out of the sails of next season's NCAA Champions (yeah, I'm guaranteeing it right now), but I could sort of see it coming, at least for Redding. I personally know him from...

3. A broadcasting camp that I attended two years ago. That's right. Along with being a blogger extraordinaire, a frequent eater of big macs, and an all around baller, I am also a broadcaster. I'm what is known as a Renaissance man. Those activities listed above are not all I am good for, however. Sometimes I even do my own laundry. As if that were not enough, I have been known to dabble on a few intruments. Much like...

4. Saumon Oboudiyat. While his biggest claim to fame is clearlyhaving his own label on the Soup Kitchen, he also has his own Facebook music page, which is starting to gain more recognition. Besides that, he has a new album coming out, and trust me, it is going to be off the chain. How do I know this? I am actually his manager, so I have heard the whole thing. Saumon is actually the second musical act I have managed, the first being...

5. The now defunct Objects At Rest, also known as O.A.R. Even though I was appointed manager, I self-admittedly did absolutely nothing. This band featured Caleb Oaks singing, Eddie Palka on the drums, B-Murr on the bass, and a certain guitarist named...

6. Russell Gelman-Sheehan, aptly nicknamed Rufus. He has been asking for a shoutout for quite a while now, and I am finally giving it to him in the most flattering form that I can think of. If Russell's talents start at guitar playing, they stop at his shoe choice. Rufus infamously rocks...

7. Starburys. These are, for those of you who don't know, possibly the worst shoes ever. While being so bad, they do offer some type of individuality, which gives perfect reason as to why Rufus would wear them. Generally, the unique shoes are the expensive ones that no one can afford. In this case, Starburys are special because they are so bad that no one wants to buy them, even though they can easily be purchased for a small price of $14.98! Just to give you reference of how low quality these shoes are, Stephon Marbury wore these shoes himself for one game as a means of promotion. In that same game he turned his ankle. Coincidence? I think not. Talking about Stephon Marbury reminds me of that feud he had with...

8. Stephen A. Smith, former host of Quite Frankly. At the time of his show's start, he was on top of the world. He had his own television show, his own column in the Philadelphia Inquirer, and his daily spot on Sportscenter. Now, he very well may be out of work. But Stephen A. has affected my life in an extremely positive manner. He was the subject of...

9. A few great Youtube videos. I'll put the 2007 one below for this post's video, and I'll link you to the 2006 one right here. These videos were recommended to me by none other than...

10. Fat Dub. That's right, this frequent subject of the Soup Kitchen is probably the best at finding videos out of anyone I have ever met. Not only that, but he is also a ghost-riding pro, much like the old geezers in that video. When he does ghost-ride, he usually does it with...

11. Bryan, otherwise known as Down-C. You may be wondering: why link his name to the picture of a hoagie? It's simple. His head is shaped like a hoagie, thus the reason he is called Hoagiehead. Usually when I make fun of people on this blog, it is just so they can have the joy of seeing their name on the internet. That is not the case with Down-C. He is one of the few people I know that has never read the blog, at least that's what I believe to be true. How a person that is such good friends with me can not even monitor what I write on here is beyond me. If this continues, I'm going to have to treat him like he is Evan Turner, and abuse him to no end on here. He is almost he complete opposite of...

12. Jake Enterlin, the former TBD. Not only does he (usually) read the blog, he even guest posts on it. He isn't the first guest poster, however. That honor would belong to...

13. Jack Eiel. You all know that he lost it because he "had nothing to write about" and because he is the laziest person the world has ever seen. I have just realized that my past guest poster, my current guest poster, and my future guest poster (at 15,000 views) were all a part of I Love Mammals. Who is this future guest poster I speak of? He goes by the name of...

14. Omar Randall. I don't need to say anything about him, you all know everything there is to know about O-Star Superstar. Another thing I just realized is that all of the guys I just mentioned were all at C-Lunch (except Fat Dub, but that's the beside the point.) A lot of things went down at C-Lunch, and I won't describe them to you. I'll leave that up to TBD on his next guest post. One thing I will say is that one of my favorite parts was when Jake would tell a young man that he was "looking good today" every day of the week. This chap's name is...

15. Mikey Henderson. "Yo Mikey! You're lookin' good today!" was the frequent call of our table, and I'm not really sure why. Anyway, I promised Mikey I would let him get in the next blog post, just so I could show all the people how much of a nice guy he was. So there you go. This shoutout is the epitome of awesome shoutouts, just because of the person that is in it. Nearly the opposite could be said about the shoutout to...

16. Nick "One-Ball" Maillett. I don't even want to relive how awkward that situation was. Hopefully it won't ever be remembered. Mr. Maillett is however looking into season tickets for the Philadelphia Union, the expansion soccer team coming to Philadelphia next March. As it happens, so is...

17. The Sobel Soup. And that's your 17 degrees of separation. I hope you know I was legitimately about to stop at 6, because I had no idea what I was going to write about.
___________________________________________________

Without further ado, here is the video for this week. As I promised, it is the Stephen A. Smith heckling video. "Spencer Hawes is gonna be a bust!"

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

All-Star Adventures

2009-07-17T16:50:00.000-04:00

You won't be hearing a lot about my recent vacation taken with O-Star Superstar and his family. I usually find errors in common life or complain about things; that is what makes this blog successful. The thing about this vacation is that I have very little to actually complain about. This is the first time in history that the Sobel Soup does not have a farmer's tan. With that checked off my list, I only have "Grow a beard similar to Greg Oden's (but never equal, because it is impossible for anyone to equal the mystical prowess of said beard)" and "Become Morgan Freeman's replacement by having the greatest voice known to mankind" still on my to-do list.

One of the things I loved about going to St. Maarten is the airport travel. It makes you feel like a star because you actually board the plane from the ground. The only thing that makes you feel not as special is that everyone else does it, probably because the airport is too poor to afford indoor entrances for every plane. Everyone always complains about airline food, but I find that the problem doesn't always lie there. Instead, it is the food inside the airport that is ridiculous. For a personal pan pizza from Domino's, which would be equal to about 1.5-2 regular slices of pizza, they charged 8 dollars. I don't want to sound like the stingiest person in the world, but that price is just flat out absurd. I ended up spending $20 on a lunch/dinner (linner or dunch? I'm thinking linner) in the airport, and I'm not too happy about it. Besides that, really nothing went wrong on my vacation.
___________________________________________________

It was a clear success, and it was the first successful campaign for me ever. Not only did we vote Shane Victorino into the All-Star Game, he was a starter and he scored a run. Yes, I do realize he got 15 million votes, and my impact upon him winning the Final Vote was probably miniscule at best, every vote counted, and I felt like I did my part. I am proud of my contribution, and am expecting Shane's thank you letter in the mail any day now. I do have to say that I am disappointed by the National League's performance in the All-Star game. Their 13th straight winless effort did not stop me from noticing the obscure things that I have a knack for doing. I now present my 5 favorite things about the All-Star weekend.

5. Jayson Werth's Facial Hair: I'm so glad he got chosen to be an allstar for the simple reason that I got to see his goatee/wolf hair.

4. Albert Pujols's wild child/bald head: When Phat Albert was at the plate during the home run derby, his young boy was straight up loving it. Every home run hit, he would jump around as if the song were playing. I also loved seeing Albert's bald head on TV. It was so shiny I could actually see the camera crew who was filming him.

3. Prince Fielder's Girth: Also on showcase at the home run derby, every time the Prince would swing, his chubby waist would fly around his body. It was even better when ESPN did the slow-motion replays (they did this a few times for Prince) because you could watch all of his flab fly through the picture faster than his bat did.

2. The mute button: I'm not talking about the Fox crew at all (Call me crazy but I actually like Joe Buck; McCarver is another story). My biggest complaint lies with the ESPN crew doing the Home Run Derby. It's bad enough having to suffer through a regular Chris Berman show or a Joe Morgan baseball game, but this brought out the worst in both. When you combine these two men's broadcasting abilities (if you actually call that ability) and a three hour event where there is actually action for maybe an hour of it, the going gets bad. Very bad. That's where the mute button came into play. I didn't have to listen to Chris Berman's "Back, Back, Back" calls or Joe Morgan's rants that had nothing to do with what was going on. Boomer's "WOW, THAT ONE IS WAY BACK. IT'S A HOME RUN" calls that he did at least 20 times during the broadcast (for the part that I listened to) is a huge overreaction. I mean a) it is a home run derby, home runs are supposed to be hit (unless you're name is Brandon Inge) and b) you can maybe do that call on one or two home runs the whole time. But when Ryan Howard barely inches one over the wall, it is unnecessary, trust me. The only good part about hearing them broadcast the Derby was that I got reminded of why I loved this website so much.

This last one is actually something that I disliked. No, Facebook doesn't let you do it, but it doesn't mean that I can't.

1. Ryan Franklin's disgusting goatee: Some of you may say this is similar to Greg Oden's beard. To those of you who make this vile claim, I am ashamed to have you read my blog. Just kidding, but not really. Seriously, why does it need to be that big? Is he hiding something inside of it? Maybe he lost his mirror in there. That's the only possible explanation of why he continues to allow that hideous rodent grow on his face.
___________________________________________________

This video was sent in by another anonymous viewer, and I thought that with the ESPY's fast approaching, I might as well put it in.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

A Campaign for Shane

2009-07-06T18:36:00.000-04:00

With the 2009 MLB all-star game approaching, there is a perfectly deserving member who has been left off the squad. I am of course talking about Shane Victorino, also known as the Flyin' Hawaiian (Yes, I did spell that right, but it took some research to do so.) The fans who did him so wrong in the all-star vote have a second chance to redeem themselves. This is done by the MLB Final Vote. Five players from each league are chosen as candidates for the final vote, and one from each league is chosen as the 34th and last player to be added to the squad. It is now my mission to get Shane Victorino elected to the National League Allstar Team.

I have a history with elections, particularly these Final Vote ones. Last year, the Phillies had another candidate: Pat Burrell (click on that link, it's a fine display of brute strength.) No exxageration here, I probably voted 1,000 times. It helped that I got Pat's voting code for cellular phones, and I knew how to do the 10 message in 1 thing. I believe Pat ended up 3rd. I didn't feel like my efforts were wasted though, I thought it bonded 'The Bat' and I closer together. I have made no secrets about it, he was probably my favorite Phillies player. Ever. That's actually a bit of an overstatement. He isn't my favorite ever. But honestly, who else has his own shirt, can do this on live television, and can create a moment like this. Although he left for the Rays in the offseason, the Phillies are lucky they replaced him with someone like Raul Ibanez. Yeah, Ibanez would have been an MVP candidate had he not gotten injured, but the main reason that I like him so much is because I can do the RAUUUUUUUUUUUL chant whenever he does something good.

Not only was I unsuccessful in voting in the Bat, I was unsuccessful in my attempt to get the Dream Ticket in office. Believe me, it was more absurd than the Corrupt Bargain of 1824 (there's your history lesson), but 0 members of the Dream Ticket were elected. Even their chief competition, J.D. Sparks XIV and Paul Manwaring, weren't elected. I am ashamed to say I didn't vote for the Dream Ticket or their rivals. In fact, I voted for no one, and I feel like an absolute fool. For some reason, I thought you were allowed to vote for three people even though it clearly stated on the paper "Pick 2." Maybe it's because everything I touch is fake, who knows? The bottomline is, I clearly have trouble getting those of my choice elected.

Hopefully that will change with this campaign for Shane. I also came up with a catchy slogan for this as well. It reads "Use Your Brain: Vote for Shane." You can just trust me on this; out of the five players competing for the last spot, Shane deserves to get in by the numbers. What I am focusing on is the behind-the-scenes actions that give him reason to be an All-star. First, he loves Spam. No other favorite food would actually be worth blogging about except for Spam. What other meat company rhymes with its main product and has a full shop that includes an array of fashionable clothes and other completely unnecessary accessories. Seriously, who wouldn't want that hot Spam suit? Or that navy blue Spam tie? Classy. The second thing about Shane is that he is Hawaiian. Quick question, how many of you wish you were Hawaiian? If your hand isn't raised, I question whether you would enjoy a conversation with Coach Ed. It's one of the first places I would go on vacation if I had a choice, and the people there are so easy to get along with. I only know of three Hawaiians: Shane Victorino, and Dylan and Morgan Langley. All three are some of the coolest people ever (the Langley brothers play Swat Soccer.) If that isn't good enough reason for voting for Shane, maybe the fact that he can walk on water because he is so fast will do the trick for you.

Shane is clearly taking this all in, and he is especially appreciative of my campaigning for him. For those of you who watched the Phillies 10 spot the Reds in the first inning of this fine Monday evening of July 6th, it included a 2 run homer by none other than the man of the hour himself. After he crossed home plate, he looked up directly into the camera and said "That was for you Sobel Soup. Use Your Brain: Vote for Shane!" I was surprised that I could actually hear what he was saying, and I'm still unsure how he knew I was campaigning for him; this post hasn't even come out yet. I guess that's just another reason why you should vote for Shane: He is psychic. I'm going to try to include a voting widget in this blog that easily allows you to vote for Shane, but if it doesn't work out, I will link to MLB.com. And honestly, if you can't get to the Final Vote from there, you might not have a brain.

___________________________________________________

Along with celebrating the 4th of July this week, all of us across the sporting world received awful news about the death of Steve McNair. I am bypassing video from one of you guys this week in honor of Air McNair, the toughest quarterback I have ever witnessed.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Catching Up With Uncle Kevin

2009-07-04T01:23:00.000-04:00

I lied. This isn't Jake's guest post, but it's not my fault. I honestly started this post off planning to use it as Jake's but he still has some editing to do, so I'm posting something else. I would like to promise and say next time it is TBD's, but you never know. Also, I have a message to the homeless. I'm not really sure where this blog is going. That could mean many things, one of which would be shutting it down. Now, that is a very extreme circumstance and will most likely not occur. The most probable case will result in me blogging much less. This is due to many things: my habitual laziness, conflicts, and criticism are the main components. I have had no conflicts the past week or so, but haven't posted because I haven't felt like it. Unfortunately, I have another vacation coming up soon, so that will mean another break. Now for the biggest part: the criticism. Similar to other bloggers in this era, I have faced much of it concerning my blogging hobby. Contrary to popular belief, not all bloggers are 40 year olds living in their mother's basements. Yes I do happen to live in my parent's house, but it is more because I am 16 (still waiting for that surprise party) and still in high school, and not because I am a loser who never got a real job. Probably the biggest critic of my blog is T.J. Adams, who I know is reading this line and loving it as we speak because he finally got that shoutout. Everybody's favorite middle school basketball coach doubts whether I go out on Friday nights, and has told me I need to get an interest in women. He clearly missed the Ladies, Meet the Sobel Soup post. I can't give Mr. Adams too much grief, for it was his genius that created Wisconsin, the best basketball play known to mankind.
___________________________________________________

This Monday, I received an email from my Uncle Kevin titled "Corrections." Because I have twice messed up the facts about Kevin, I am just going to show you all what he had to say, with my two cents put in where necessary.

Hey, we briefly touched on this during our B-day call, and I think you should rethink your journalistic integrity rules. You may not have to go the whole nine yards with getting confirmation of sources and stuff like that, but you need to at least get your stories straight.

I'm pretty sure I've called you on other birthdays. Maybe not all of them, but some of them. This past June 11th was not the first time ever. (Editor's Note: Notice how he called me the day after my birthday, not actually on it.)

Also, the main purpose of my call was to wish you a happy birthday. The fact that the conversation happened to go in the direction of your blog and the fact that you only mentioned one boat was just a coincidence. (Ed. Note: Whatever lets you sleep at night. And just so you know, you should strive to use the phrase "the fact that" only once per sentence at a maximum. I would know. I'm a writer.)

However, the main point of this email is to make a correction to your statement that I have a house boat. I do not have a house boat. I have a boat that I use as a house. Big difference, huge difference, very similar to this clip from the 4 minute mark to the end. (Ed. Note: I linked it for him. And this was the first I had seen of Captain Ron. Needless to say I watched the whole movie and was flabberghasted that I had never seen nor heard of this fine piece of film before. I whole-heartedly recommend it)

This is a house boat:

This is our boat (Ed. Note: That he uses as a house. Looks like some one forgot to be specific):

As you can see, HUGE difference, HUGE difference. Again, it's a boat that we are able to live on. NOT a house boat. Maybe you could stop by sometime and see it. Like last year when you were down with Aunt Judy and you didn't stop by. Maybe this year you could stop by. (Ed. Note: He really knows how to put on the guilt trip, but I have stopped by before, just not when he was there)

Your loving Uncle,

Kevin

When asked about why the concern over telling readers that he has a house boat, Kevin draws the line when readers "start to thinking I'm also have a couple of teeth missing, wear flannel shirts and greasy John Deere hats." Judging by your grammar, I couldn't blame them if they did. Just putting it out there, I have nothing wrong with flannel shirts and John Deere hats.
___________________________________________________

This video was shown to me by Saumon Oboudiyat, and like most of the videos I put up here, I find it hilarious. Have fun with it.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Worst Vacation. Ever.

2009-06-26T01:10:00.000-04:00

I think it is time for me to start addressing the readers of this blog by a nickname. While Titus may have the Trillion Man March, I have come up with a name that is slightly less catchy, slightly more clever, and significantly less politically correct. I deem you, the loyal followers of my blog, as the homeless. I'm not sure whether this name will stick or not, but I have been thinking about putting out there for a while, and I feel this is just the best time for it.

I promise you, the next post will be a guest post by none other than TBD, Jake Enterlin (I have reverted back to my old form, Snake just doesn't work for me. I think he is fine with the multiple nicknames anyway). While on the topic of guest posters, I was looking over Jack's work and realized how much of a lying fiend he truly is. Even though he supposedly chose teams by the better mascot, his championship winner ended up being the Pitt Panthers. I love the scent of the magical cologne that 60% of the time works every time about as much as the next guy, but there is no way a panther was the best mascot in the whole tournament. Since Pitt didn't win, it just gave me another face to rub Villanova's success into. And just as a follow up, I ended up beating Run, meaning it isn't even close to unstoppable anymore.
___________________________________________________

Onto the true purpose of this post. The reason I haven't posted in a while was because I just got home from a family vacation. You may be thinking "Well, he brought Jeffrey J. and O-Star Superstar, so it must have been a great time!" While Papa Jeff brought the baller level up to a max, and Omar didn't quite cross that line from being fun to annoying, it was possibly the worst vacation any of us had ever been on. We traveled to Lake Owasco in upstate New York, and it is pretty beautiful there this time of year. There was one little problem that we encountered. It starts with an H, rhymes with mouse, and is the namesake of a popular television show/character. Yes, the house was awful, and I will now explain to you why.

First of all, the house was maintained about as well as Carrot Top's hair is. It was so poorly managed in fact that there were actual plants growing out of the gutters, I kid you not. They did make a few changes to the house, though. One of these was taking out a light in a bedroom and replacing it with a smoke detector. Needless to say, this caused some confusion for me and O-Star when we turned on the light switch and a loud buzzing noise started to go off. In the same bedroom, presumably to separate it from the loft in the other room, was a wooden window. You may doubt that there is such a thing, but let me assure you, there is. While it may defeat the purpose of a window because you can't actually see through it, a barrier is provided. The last change they made simply astounded me, for it was probably the junkiest and simultaneously hilarious thing I have ever seen. Instead of putting an actual lock on a sliding door, they instead lock it by lodging a piece of wood in between the door and the adjacent frame. I am not embellishing at all; this was actually the improvement that the homeowner once made.

While I was certainly not embellishing in that last paragraph, the person that rents out the house might have just a tad bit. Usually "a comfortable fit" means that you will be able to stand up in the upstairs. This was sadly not the case for this house. Omar had to bend over at all times and was constantly hitting his head, while I only faced trouble a few times. The worser of the exaggerations was that the house slept nine. Apparently there being two bedrooms, which hold three people combined, account for sleeping space for nine. The other unfortunate six have to sleep on pull-outs, which is exactly what me and Omar had to do.

Since the house was so awful, we decided to cut it short one day, but not before stopping at Cornell for a visit. Since the U.S. vs. Spain soccer game was on, and it would have been a five hour car ride home with no way to see what was happening in the game, Jeff, Omar, and I decided to stay and watch in the Cornell Campus Bookstore. I am proud to say that I am the only one that saw the first goal by Jozy Altidore, who has an eery likeness to DeJuan Blair. Around the time of Clint Dempsey's goal, Jeff, Omar and I were fully tuned into the game. Jeff had quite a hilarious outburst after Michael Bradley's bogus red card. He jolted up in his seat, clapped, and yelled "You've got to be kidding me!" The best was yet to come, however, when Jeffrey J. shocked all those in the bookstore by proclaiming "That's Horse----" Needless to say Omar and I "dogged him" for that the whole car ride home.

The cursing was not the only dogging Jeffrey J. received on the trip home. He also became a murderer. Of birds. The bird was minding its own business in the middle of the road when Jeff sped up to almost hit it. Trying to avoid the car, the bird flew up, but to no avail, as it hit the bumper of the car. Judging by the smell of blood on the car, I'm fairly certain that Jeffrey J. killed that bird. I will never let him hear the end of it.
___________________________________________________

I would be doing the world a disservice if I neglected the death of Michael Jackson. I would be lying to you all if I told you he didn't creep me out a lot, but then again he is the King of Pop, he invented the Thriller Dance, and he is a human being. MJ will be missed by many, and for good reason, because he could sure rock the mic.
___________________________________________________

This video was sent in by the next guest poster, Jake Enterlin. He was an ambitious young man from the start and made this killer video. Enjoy.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Palace, The Present, and Facebook: A Ballad of My Birthday

2009-06-15T17:40:00.000-04:00

This past week, the Sobel Soup celebrated his 16th birthday. I know what you are thinking: sweet sixteen and the permit. I have received none of those, even though I still have a hunch that I'm getting a surprise party. Anyway, I had three goals for my birthday. One was to get killer presents, another was to drop a deuce, take a smash, whatever you want to call it, in The Palace, a.k.a. the best bathroom in school. I can't tell you what the third was, but many of you probably know anyway. It is a shame that I did not achieve any of the goals.

Going number 2 in the palace was probably the easiest goal, and the one that I had the most control over. It just didn't work out for me, and I decided to let it go. At the time, I thought I would get tons of killer presents, and that would cancel out the lost goal. I ended up being wrong about the presents too. While Judy takes me out every year, and I got everything I could have asked for from my grandparents, I didn't take into account my mother, who is the worst manager of money that I have ever encountered. I asked for a few things for my birthday, but only got one. The thing I got was a hammock, which is pretty cool. Unfortunately, it also costs the same as some inter-city homes. I couldn't even get those slick boat shoes I had wanted for a while.

Everyone knows what comes along with every birthday. No, I am not talking about birthday punches. Instead, I'm talking about having everyone write on your Facebook wall. It's common knowledge that when it is someone's birthday, you tell them happy birthday on his or her wall. If it's someone you don't know very well, a simple "happy birthday dude" or "yo man happy bday" will do. Exclamation points may be inserted when necessary. When you are friends with the person, another message should be attached. An inside joke or something that is significant to both persons involved would do the trick. Sometimes a person (Gabrielle Nichols) crosses the friend/no-friend line and writes a long and unnecessary message, to which the person whose birthday it is has to respond to or else it would make the person who wrote it feel really bad. This is Facebook etiquette at its finest; I suggest taking notes.

Anyway, if it's your birthday, you can respond by doing one of several things. You could do nothing, seemingly ignoring all of the notifications and emails you undoubtedly received about people all telling you the same exact thing. That's reserved for the people who are too cool for school; Jake Enterlin, for example, is known for this sort of thing. (An interesting tidbit of information showing how "too cool for school" Jake actually is: He got in a fight with a teacher and then dropped out of school. Rebel) What I chose to do was to only respond to the select few who actually cared to write something meaningful on my wall. The highlights were my boy J-EZ Smith (Just so you know, Jordan, I'm innocent) writing me a fresh poem and the aforementioned Gabrielle Nichols telling me about a lot of fun facts that had occurred on my birthday. The key to this strategy is setting your status to a "Thank You" of some sorts after you've written on all the walls, just to let everyone who wrote a simple happy birthday that you still remember them. Some people choose to write something on everyone's wall who writes on theirs. I did this last year, and believe me, it took a while. It is typical for you to write a simple "thanks" (exclamations/smileys inserted if necessary) for the people that you don't know very well. You can do this, or you can take the bold route. I was considering going bold myself, but decided I didn't have the time. If you really feel like messing with people who you don't know, you can always fabricate stories about times you shared with said person, and write about them on their wall. I imagine that it would be quite entertaining. For example you could say "Thanks man (try to come up with a random nickname, it will add to the confusion), we should totally go out smashing mailboxes just like we did last weekend. Remember that one time you drank that urine????" This would cause a lot of confusion and embarrassment. Another one could be "Thanks :) Your the best (enter name here, hold down the last letter if you're a girl) Vacation last year was so fun!!!! Oh and I'm really sorry about accidentally stapling your head last week!" Quite Frankly, I have no idea how someone would respond to something like this.

This birthday was actually an amazing occurrence. For the first time ever, my Uncle Kevin, who you all know from the Easter Sunday post, actually called me on my birthday. Technically it was the day after, but close enough. He said happy birthday and went through the whole deal with me, and then he got to the real reason that he was calling for. He wanted me to tell everyone on the Soup Kitchen that he actually owns two boats. We then went into a discussion about how I had to specify that one was a house boat, so it's not nearly as obnoxious as owning two regular boats is. Anyway, it was a real pleasure talking about my birthday around the actual date, and not at Christmas time. NFL.com also sent me birthday wishes as well. The only problem was that they came a day early, and they were titled "Happy Birthday, Ronald." I'm not sure if it was a mistake, or if they actually think my name is Ronald. Either way, I found it hilarious.
___________________________________________________

This video was sent in by Fat Dub, and I find it, like the rest of the videos up here, very funny. Enjoy.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

I Love Mammals... I Love 'Em!

2009-06-11T16:01:00.000-04:00

I have totally outdone myself this time. You all know what I'm talking about. I haven't posted for over two weeks. I do have good reason for doing so, however, so don't tell me I blew it, like Billy did to Mr. I Pee My Pants. The reason I haven't posted in a while is because I have been working on a project for biology class to finish of the year. You could call me White and Nerdy (I hate that kid) but not because I am a nerd. It is because I am a parody champ; in this case it was of Asher Roth's I Love College. The reason I am not linking you to that video is because it was not our true inspiration. First, for some background information.

A few years back, a few students in Ms. Szeliga's bio class made a parody of the song Lose Yourself about DNA replication, and other such things. She shows this to each of her classes and said it was the best she had ever gotten. A few of us fellows from class got together and decided to one-up the movie with a pure one of our own. The cast of characters is a regular Soup Kitchen lineup: Jack Eiel, Jake Enterlin, and Omar Randall. The project had to be about a phylum, so the natural choice was mammals, after all, that's what humans are. You will believe me later on when I show you the video, but it is one of the finest pieces of film on the net.

The true inspiration for I Love Mammals was a video by the Davidson Show, I Love Commons. Now, I'm not sure if Mammals tops Commons, only because Commons is straight up legendary. We modeled the video and the lyrics off of it, but we have outtakes at the end that will just blow your mind. Contrary to what my good friend Kara Nac thinks (There is your shout-out, happy now #1 fan?), I was not wearing a woman's shirt during part of the filming. It is actually called a wife beater, similar to the one my favorite bandleader was seen wearing at the VCU-UCLA game. The straps on mine were thinner than the rest of the beater's straps because I got a raw deal. Nonetheless, a wife beater it is. And just so everyone knows, while Gossmar may have seemed like a legit rapper, which he was, your opinion would be a bit different had you heard and seen the million other takes in which he was horri-awful. The outtakes were all him, especially the voice-overs, so AMPAP to O-Star Superstar (Take special note of this, because it will most likely be the last time I will ever give AMPAP, make that any props, to Gossmar.)

We are planning on becoming full-fledged Youtube stars, and considering the 172 views in the first two days, we are on track to do so. We already have a second song/video planned, but I refuse to give it away on here. Maybe on a later Soup Kitchen post I will slip something in about it, so look out. But other than that, our lips are sealed. Just so everyone knows, in my voiceover, I wasn't there, it was Omar, not me, speaking, and I actually do love Greg Oden's Beard. Without further ado, I Love Mammals (I included the link if any of you were so inclined to comment or favorite it on youtube.)

(Editor's Note: After I posted this, it was brought to my attention that the embedded video below is off center, so I highly suggest you click on the link above. Thanks and sorry about the error, I will work on getting it fixed.)

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Vote America: The Dream Ticket '09

2009-05-27T17:52:00.000-04:00

I would like to start out this post by saying that I am not necessarily voting for the Dream Ticket, not yet anyway. The Sobel Soup, being a fair and democratic-minded soul, is deciding on election day by the speeches, and I think you all should too. I am simply writing this post to let you all know about some of my favorite candidates.

First, some background information. The Dream Ticket is comprised of three upstanding gentlemen, Braden "The Executioner" Harris, Noah "Da Lil' Rag" Frick, and Will Prince, who has become very well known to all those who read the Soup Kitchen as Fat Dub. Their mission: to be elected to student council. Their slogan: Vote America. Now, if you think, judging by this slogan, that these men aren't taking this seriously, you are dead wrong. They have been planning this for over a year now and have spent a lot of time campaigning. This includes an excellent poster, which features these fellows' rugged mugs, with the slogan underneath. Don't let the short description fool you, it's probably the most professional poster I have ever seen in school. Actually, I have to correct that. Make that last sentence read "was the most professional poster I have ever seen." Apparently, an opponent of the Dream Ticket sought to it that this poster was destroyed. Braden found it defaced, folded, and spat on. I suppose this just goes to show how wary the competition is of these three lads. Onto the introductions.

Braden Harris is many things, an absolute baller being one of them. Besides having the respect of all his fellow classmates, he's a visionary with an independent soul. Seriously, he puts The Most Interesting Man in the World to shame. Just to sum it up, Braden is an all-around great guy. He is also the tallest one by a mile on this ticket.

Noah Frick is a pretty interesting fellow himself. He is a great organizer, shown perfectly in that he is the founder and most active member of the Swat Team/Strath Haven Crazies, the most loyal cheering section in America. He is also fairly small, but, more importantly, he has a perfect bone structure. When with Noah, you almost feel like you're hanging out with your own teletubby. He's a short, little guy that puts a smile on everyone's face.

You all know Fat Dub pretty well. Along with being a proactive, intelligent man, he is one of the most BA people I know. In fact, Will is so bad to the bone, I can't even tell you what he does that makes him so. Don't fret over having a criminal on your student council, I assure you he has done nothing to break the law. Trust me on this one, you would be impressed if you knew. Just to add in another two cents, Will is nearly as small as Noah,. He has him by an inch, maybe, but doesn't have the perfect bone structure to brag about.

That's about all you need to know about these guys. As you can see, you have the total package with the Dream Ticket: The ideas, the organization, and the power to get it done.
___________________________________________________

I had an interesting day today. I'm sure all of you have wondered the question that pretty much defines life. Of course, I am talking abouthow many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop. Well, I have the answer. Today, it took me 653 licks to get from one side to the center of the Tootsie Pop. None other than the trustworthy Jack Eiel can attest for me. I took several pictures of me with the licked Tootsie Pop and plan on sending it into the headquarters and see if I can get a commercial out of it. I'm assuming many others have completed this feat, considering it took me one lollipop and about 20 minutes to do it, but I doubt any of those people have a blog/are web sensations, so they might take the chance.
___________________________________________________

I have been asked to apologize for statements made in my last post having to do with my teammate, Nick Maillet (1 Ball). In fact, it was Nick's nickname (If I was writing for Freddie Mitchell's blog, this would be a perfect place for "LOL") in particular that I was asked to apologize for, by Mr. Maillet himself, of course. So Nick, I am a little sorry for letting the world know that it is your nickname. This is kind of like that thing where I'm not sorry that I did it, I'm just sorry that he found out. I know what you are thinking and yeah, this is awkward.
___________________________________________________

I have to give a special "Happy Birthday" shoutout to the current guest poster, TBD, Jake Enterlin. While many have come to calling him T.B., he would like me to remind all of you that that's in the past. Apparently, he prefers Snake. I normally don't do these types of shoutouts, so don't come asking. It's only because he is so involved that he has his own post label.

I do have to shout out to someone else in this spot, however. I'm talking about the K-Dog, the X-Factor, Keith DeCindis. He is a loyal follower of the blog, and has constantly been asking for a shoutout. He specifically wants me to acknowledge his matball skills. Some say he is the best pitcher in the school, but today was not his best showing. The X quit after letting up quite a lot of runs today. I told him that quitters never get in, but I need to challenge him. I'll be sure to let you all know if he indeed comes up big in a matball game before the end of the year. The pressure is on, X-Factor.
___________________________________________________

This video was sent in by another anonymous viewer and I find it hilarious. Below, you can find Kellen Winslow Jr. literally freaking out. I have no idea how those reporters contained their laughter when he belted out the part about being a soldier. Quite rich, quite rich indeed.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Entertaining Week That Was

2009-05-25T14:38:00.000-04:00

A lot has happened over the past week, and it would be really tough for me not to let you all in on what went down. Just a word of advice: you might want to break this one up into sections if you don't have that much time on your hands because it's pretty long. I don't want to hear any complaining, so tough it out if you want to read the whole thing.

First things first, I was told by Sam Pinecone, who is the 3rd fastest, that I had the 5th fastest 800 time in the school, according to PennTrackXC.com. For those of you who are saying "Wow, only 5th fastest. That's really not something to be showing off about," you don't even know the half of it. First of all, I am not the 5th fastest 800 time in the school. I am probably around 11th or 12th. That's not the most important thing that came out of this situation, however. You see, this website allows the athletes to make their own personal profiles. While most people would blow this off as a waste of time, I am a web sensation, so I had to personalize it. At first, I made my picture George Clooney. Then I changed my athletic achievements to the following:

Gym Class Hero: Straight A+'s 2 years running. PR's: Flex Arm Hang- 33.2 seconds. Yeah, 33.2... wasn't even trying. Pushups- 93. In 60 seconds. I showed off my bulging muscles for the last 10. A member of the International Curling Hall of Fame for innovative techniques now used across the sport. Has thrown 3 no-hitters, including one perfect game, in wiffleball. Nolan Ryan should probably watch out. Recorded the game-winning hit in first round Texas League Baseball Playoff game (Note: Highlight of baseball career). Shot a course record of 9 strokes at Pirate Putt-Putt Golf in Avalon. This was done over 18 holes.

Unfortunately, Jeffrey J. caught wind of this and made me take them down. I did leave up my personal information, as follows:

Enjoys wearing a nice pair of slacks. Has a hit blog, a web sensation. Witty, great personality. Traveled across the world last year and has a profound view on life since his trip. Now refers to himself in third person. Lack of modesty dully noted. Hopes to live on the moon, not for the advancement of world technological gains, but rather to use it as own personal golf course as seen in Tiger Woods Gatorade commercial.

Unfortunately, it is impossible to view my personal information regardless of whether you are a member or not. Thanks a lot, PennTrackXC, for providing me with humor for at least a few minutes.
___________________________________________________

Besides creating a profile that no one can see, the Sobel Soup also got his haircut. Trying to stay cool for the summer, I went with a bit of a shorter cut. Somehow, this resulted in me receiving an uptown fade, similar to the one 'Nique can be seen sporting in that fantastic cartoon drawing. This of course drew the ire of many of my friends, mostly O-Star Superstar. I have learned to ignore the criticism and to love my uptown fade.
___________________________________________________

Late one night this week, I saw Jeffrey J. jamming out to a song on his laptop. Now, he had his earphones in, and was totally getting into it, so I just had to see what it was. I walked over and asked what he was listening to, while grabbing the mouse to click on iTunes to see for myself. Jeff was unprepared to say the least when he squeaked out a "Just..." I would finish his sentence myself after seeing what it was. My father was listening to How To Save a Life by The Fray (of course I gave the Grey's Anatomy version, what else would you expect.) I was shocked and ashamed, and at the same time gave Jeffrey J. non-stop grief for the unspeakable act he had just committed. He tried to play it off by saying it just landed on that, but the song was clearly just clicked on, considering it had the dark blue line on it. I came back later and checked on him again, and he was listening to The Boss, also known as The King to a fool known as Colin Campies (By the way, check out Clarence in the orange jumpsuit in that video). Not even that could make up for Jeff's indulgence in a popular but awful pop rock group.
___________________________________________________

On Friday, Strath Haven students all received their yearbooks. I was pretty happy with it, except for one HUGE mistake. I am of course talking about the Celebrity Look Alikes section. I know what you are thinking, and yes, they did neglect to put in the Sobel Soup and Michael Phelps. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it. To add insult to injury, there were some weak matches in there too. Julia Reitenbach and Ali Lohan?!?!? Seriously?!? (To quote Keller/K-Smoove, "The question mark/exclamation point combo is just genius. It's like, I really want to know your answer!!!") If the Sobel Soup doesn't get in there next year, he will have some problems to take up with the Yearbook Staff, to say the least.
___________________________________________________

The most enjoyable part of my week had to be the weekend. This was spent in Maryland for a soccer tournament. Friday night, I went out to eat at Longhorn Steakhouse with two of my teammates, Nick Maillet (also known as 1-Ball, don't ask) and Kelsey Beck-Cullen. While ordering my food, I was interrupted by loud clapping and a ridiculously long chant about food that somehow had to do with birthdays at another table. To say the least, we laughed heartily about the chant for a few minutes. Kelsey then got up, I assumed it was for a trip to the restrooms. He came back and informed us both that it was my birthday tonight. This was obviously a lie, considering my birthday is not for another 2 and a half weeks. Kelsey, however, told the waiter that it was just so he would be able to see the chant done to me. He was considering not telling me, but thankfully I was notified so I wasn't totally shocked. We ate maybe half of the delicious food that we ordered, they serve them big over at Longhorn, and awaited the moment of truth. We heard the clapping start from all the way across the restaurant and knew it was coming. It turned out not to be as long or as embarrassing as I thought it would have been, and I got a free dessert out of it. The whole experience was, however, ridiculously funny. That would just be the beginning of interesting eateries in Maryland. The following night I went to The Cheesecake Factory, accompanied by Nick, Kelsey, Xander Rizzello (of previous Soup Kitchen fame), and his parents. Our waitress started off by asking us if we could see alright. It being very dark in the restaurant, we asked for some more light, a candle maybe. Judging by her supremely awkward response and by the fact that she didn't bring us any light, she clearly used this as a comedic opening line that most people probably don't think is funny. At all. This waitress also loved the menu. We could tell because after each of us ordered our stuff, she would say "Oh, that's really good, one of my favorites." Not only that, but she had a nickname for everything on the menu. For example, she asked us how we enjoyed the Spicy Buffalo Chicken Fingers, and we said they were quite good. She responded by saying that "Oh good, I love The Blasts." Towards the end of the night, we were all making comments about her very portly figure. Xander's dad said it best when he emphasized that "she can't resist the Cheesecake!!!!" Unfortunately for all of us, the waitress was standing very close to our table and may or may not have heard the comments. We probably deserved spit in our cheesecakes at the end, and we probably got it anyway. They were delicious nonetheless.

Not only did The Cheesecake Factory have great food, the trip there also taught me a number of lessons. The first one was that The Cheesecake Factory does not only serve cheesecake. Judging by the name, I had previously thought that they sold cheesecake there, but nothing else. I was totally wrong. It probably had the biggest selection of food I have ever seen. Besides learning not to judge a book by its cover, I found out about how to get parmesan cheese put on your dish by an employee. A helper came over with parmesan cheese and asked if anyone would like it on their meal. I said I would, and she proceeded to grate the cheese onto my plate. Now, I had no idea that you were supposed to tell the person when to stop putting it on. Because of that little mix-up in communication, she grated cheese for literally 25 seconds while I looked around in wonder at the others at my table. Finally she stopped and walked away, but by that point I probably had more parmesan cheese on my plate than I did pasta. I will never forget that valuable lesson that was taught to me at Cheesecake. The meal was still pretty good, too.
___________________________________________________

This video was sent in by The Big Kit, Ankit Prasad, a huge fan of the Soup Kitchen. He has been waiting for a while for me to put in this video, and he is pretty obsessed with the guy in it. While not loving it on Kit's level, I do think his rendition of Lollipop is excellent.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Life and Times of Judith A. Sobel

2009-05-17T02:01:00.000-04:00

I have been asked many a times whether or not I actually serve daily or not, and judging by the fact that I do not post everyday, the answer is no. While some have taken this news in stride, others, including my grandparents, have criticized me and sent me highly-threatening emails telling me to change the banner at the top, or else. Because it took me so long to make, however, that portion of the Soup Kitchen will not be changing.

Having my first study-free, normal week was good for a change. The most entertaining day was by far Wednesday. No, it wasn't because of the Lost season finale (which was an amazing episode, by the way). This wednesday, just like any other wednesday in fact, was so special because the Sobels were graced with the presence of our beloved Aunt Judy. She comes pretty much because she has absolutely nothing else to do with her life, considering she is now retired. Needless to say, Aunt Judy is undoubtedly one of my favorite people ever.

One of which is that she can't cook. As many of you probably know from the Easter Day post, Judy makes mashed potatos worse than your normal 2 year old. You would think that after a while, she would at least improve or seek out some advice as to how to improve these pieces of matter she calls food. This never happened. While the potatos did get a little better over time, I would probably rather consume a live animal rather than eat her mashed potatos. Fortunately for all of us involved, Judy has stopped making the mashed potatos. The bad cooking carries over to most of the other things she makes. Pasta, for example. You are all probably saying to yourself for me to stop, that it is impossible to mess up pasta. Not for Judy. A few years back, Uncle Kevin stopped by Judy's (Just so all of you know, Kevin is Judy's nephew. Aunt Judy is actually my great-aunt). She offered to make him pasta and he happily accepted. Judy put the pasta in the boiling water and went to talk with Kevin. She got a little preoccupied, and by the time she remembered that she was actually cooking something, there was no water left and the pasta was hardened, inedible, and sticking to the sides of the pot. I'm pretty sure only Judy would ever let that happen to her, but it really doesn't surprise me.

Judy is the biggest chatterbox the world has ever seen. When I said that she got a little preoccupied last paragraph, I meant that she was yapping non-stop, which is pretty typical of Judy. If you can imagine hearing this, but for all times of the day, you know what it feels to be around Judy. I have been searching all my life to find out how long it took Judy to stop talking. I finally found out this summer. Judy went with her other friends to Italy on a two week vacation. When they were going home, one of Judy's friends asked her if she was alright. Judy said she was fine. The friend told her she was concerned and asked Judy why she wasn't talking. To this Judy responded: "I guess I just ran out of things to talk about." So there it is, the question many have asked but few have ever been priveleged to know the answer to.

Not only does Judy talk a lot, but she talks extremely loud as well. It might be that her elderly ears cannot judge how loud she actually is, but either way, if Judy is in the same zip code as you, it won't be too hard for you to hear her. She isn't just loud in normal conversation either. She kicks it up a notch when attending or watching sporting events. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for being an enthusiastic fan. Judy can get a little overzealous. She has a good reason for yelling when the Philadelphia teams are playing, but it's a different story with other sporting events, such as horse-racing. Even though she has probably never watched a horse race before, Judy became the number one fan of Mine That Bird on the Kentucky Derby. She lives about 30 minutes away, across the bridge in New Jersey. I kid you not when I tell you I heard her yells for the horse all the way from my house. As to why she was rooting for Mine That Bird, she had no explanation. It is this innocent enthusiasm for the game that keeps the people in appreciation of Judy.

Most believe this enthusiasm to be a product of Judy's inner child. While the children inside of us typically leave regular adults around the age of 20, Judy has actually never lost hers, and she is 66 years old. She enjoys trips to Friendly's more than I, and she doesn't even get the Happy Endings. I kid you not when telling you that she orders off of the kid menu. Not only does she love Friendly's, but she also loves amusement parks. I feel like I have to be the parent around her because she would spend all of her money on tickets if I wasn't around.

Besides all of these things, the rest of Judy's attributes are pretty standard. It is the things above that make her stand out above the rest.
___________________________________________________

I have to give a shout out to Jayson Werth for stealing four bases, three in one inning, including home, in a recent game. Even though he could have conserved his energy and actually scored from the bases being walked, it was much cooler stealing three bases on his own for one whole inning. I also have to ask J.A. Happ whether to pronounce his first name with 2 syllables or one. The one syllable would be assuming he pronounces it Jay, and I have heard rumblings concerning the fact that he does indeed do that.
___________________________________________________

The following video was sent in by a viewer who was more secretive than the Illuminati concerning their name. I do love this song, however, and am more than willing to accomodate them in their request.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

From the Vault: Easter Sunday

2009-05-11T21:55:00.000-04:00

While I'm finally done with all of my busy things that I have been preoccupied with for the past two weeks, keeping me from posting, I realized that I don't have much to write about. It was that which caused me to take a story from the vault. If you may recall, I was about to do an Easter Day post when Harry the K passed. I had already written it out but decided to save it up for either next Easter, or a time like this.
___________________________________________________

Before I talk about my interesting Easter Sunday, I would just like to talk about my last post. I have been asked by several people whether I think the Phillies will be chumps throughout the year. I am guessing this came about from the title of the post, particularly the Champs to Chumps part. To answer your questions, no I do not think the Phillies will be bad this year. In fact, I am predicting another excellent season. From now on, try not to take the titles so seriously, I typically go for alliteration or something catchy, just to get the attention of my beloved viewers.

For staying with me through that unbelievably rambly paragraph, I offer this hilarious video as a reward. Onto my Easter Sunday. I woke up much too early just to beat the crowds at the 8 o'clock mass. While at first a little bitter, I realized it was well worth it. The fact that I had to get ready in 5 minutes really came back to bite me later, as I will let you know about in a bit. Back to mass, now. My mother, Jeffrey J., and I were seated right behind a young couple with two little kids. One of the kids was pretty much exactly like yours truly. He was blonde (I used to be blonde when I was a wee little tike), unbelievably loud and disruptive, and most importantly, he rocked the sweater vest. Although this little fellow of 2 years old probably did not dress himself, its pretty safe to say that he has a lot of potential. He could be my heir apparent to wearing sweater vests, or he might even surpass me. Judging by the attitude he showed while strutting his stuff, he will be a pro in no time.

After mass was over, I remembered that O-Star Superstar would be in attendance at 8 o'clock mass. I quickly seeked him out and found him, and I have to say, I was extremely taken aback by his attire. While usually seen sporting 15 junkie undershirts, O-Star was actually wearing a respectable sweater. I have a feeling his mom dressed him up that morning, because there is no way Omar would have the brains to put the sweater on. After ribbing him for it a bit, we left for home.

When we arrived back at the house, I made a casual discovery that the Easter Bunny had dropped by for a visit. While he is only my second favorite rabbit (that's right I'm talking about you, Raul), he left some mean treats this year. I found some cash money, Twizzlers, and the little Reese's Cups that everyone likes (On the subject of Reese's. Does it rhyme with pieces or does it have the pronunciation of Reesie's? I've always wondered that, especially when pronunciating Reese's Pieces. As you can see, it can be quite problematic, for me at least). After dabbling into my Easter candy, it was time to head off to Aunt Judy's house for Easter dinner.

If you don't know my family, they all read the blog and are huge fans. One such fan is my Uncle Kevin. I have to give you a little background information on my Uncle Kevin before I go into what happened at Judy's. Kevin owns a boat. He is cool. That's about all you really need to know about Kevin and you could probably spend every waking moment with him like you are best friends with him. But I'll let you know a little more about him. He has an interesting gift-giving pattern. Instead of doing the ridiculous extra work of giving gifts two times a year, one on your birthday and one during the holidays, Kevin just takes care of it all at Christmas time. Sometimes he gets a little backed up, and gives us our Christmas presents on our birthday, and our birthday presents on Christmas. No matter what he does, he always seems to be giving us a gift from a time before. I really have no idea how or when the cycle will end, but I look forward to receiving more belated gifts. Kevin is also a smart betting man. He proposed a seemingly impossible bet to win, that Penncrest would beat Strath Haven in the Media Bowl. I believe the last time this occurred was all the way back in 1983, yes even before the year 1985 inspired a hit single by Bowling for Soup, which, if you might have guessed, I have some emotional ties to. Anyway, I bet him a birthday cake since it was his birthday. Strath Haven went on to lose to Penncrest, and it still haunts me to this day. I still have not given him his birthday cake, but considering he always owes me gifts, I guess I owe him one now.

Back to the main point about Kevin. When I woke up early Easter morning, I had to throw on something very quick. While I would normally rock the sweater vest in any situation, I put on a regular sweater that day. It shames me to say that I was too negligent to take it off during my resting period at home. I walked into Judy's house and saw Kevin in a sweater vest. As you can imagine, it was more awkward than that ridiculously creepy and unbelievably sexual Quizno's commercial. I had to deal with the constant put-downs from Kevin. Even though he called me a sell-out, and probably every synonym for that in the thesaurus, he still got the shout-out that he rightfully deserved.

The best part about the dinner itself was not having to force-feed Judy's mashed potatos down my throat. No offense to Judy, but she is not the best cook. She comes over every Wednesday, with her mashed potatos as flavorless as P.J. Blands and pork as dry as the Sahara. Thankfully, Kevin came up big in more ways than one when he made the mashed potatos for the family. In reality, Kevin took no part in making the mashed potatos, that would be his wife and my Aunt Mary. But he took credit for them, and that's all that matters. Judy did do a great job with the ham, however, seeing as it wasn't too dry. Job well done indeed. I'm sure none of you care what other food we ate there, but the kielbasa was deliciously made by my Grandmom. As was the disgusting-looking orange gelatin blob. It actually looks more grotesque than it does in the picture because it has pieces of carrots in it. But believe me, it's the secret weapon because it surprises you. It's kind of like Susan Boyle: it's downright hideous on the outside, but it can really surprise you when it shows what it's capable of.

Besides dinner, the highlight of the rest of the night had to be sitting back with my Grandpop and watching Angel Cabrera, the real "El Pato," pump his fists in ecstasy after winning the Masters, only to hear a few groans from the crowd. It reminded me a lot about this video at the 2:13 mark.

That just about sums up the Sobel Soup's Easter Sunday.
___________________________________________________

Fat Dub must have been very hungry during our big test, because right in the middle of it he let out a huge bellow of the stomach, or so he claims. I thought it to be flatulence, but the world will never be sure. I'd just like to tell Ibo DeGrouchy to hang in there. He really needs help at a time like this, when he actually did his answers in a number 1 pencil instead of a number 2. Oh, Ticonderoga. Always tricking your loyal customers.
___________________________________________________

This video has been sent in by loyal fan, and beatboxer, Saumon Oboudiyat. The guy in this video is unbelievable, as you are all about to see. Enjoy.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

TBD Takes His Shot at a Guest Post

2009-04-30T21:01:00.000-04:00

I'm guessing you've all seen the title of this post, and have probably had a bigger freak-out than the present swine flu scare. I have some explaining to do as to why I am letting a guest post on now, reaching no significant hits number. My reasoning is that I haven't been posting at all recently, and I would just like to give the people what they want. Apparently that means voting for TBD over Fat Dub, who was shockingly beat out on the last day. Before I let (the former) TBD take over, I would just like to say that I do not condone his opinions on old people. As in Jack's guest post, I will be inserting my two cents where necessary, in the form of Editor's notes. Without further ado, here is The Former T.B. Deegy.
___________________________________________________

Hello readers, you probably know me as TBD, but that is in my past. You guys can call me Jake. I would like to thank all of those who have voted for me in Soup's poll...especially Mr. Miraglia, aka Coach. I appreciate that you took time away from your girlfriends to vote for me. First, I would like to give a little b-round information on myself.

Most of what you need to know about me is listed on my Facebook in the activities section. Here they are: MLB Showdown, Quarterbacking football teams, going to Acme, playing golf, heckling the piss out of division three athletes (Editor's Note: except Swat athletes, they are our boys), going to cross country meets (I don’t run in them), and frisbee. Another activity that I partake in is baseball, which brings me to my first point.

This past Saturday, right after I ate some nice burgers from Burger King, (who knew that there was a difference between small fries and value fries? I certainly didn’t, but now I do thanks to the fat cashier worker who freaked on me) I went to my little brother’s baseball game. We like to call my little brother Fats or Crisco, FYI. So anyway, we were sitting behind the left field wall which is right in front of a different field. After fats grounded out to third we heard a roar. This was no ordinary roar, it was an extremely high pitched roar. So I turn around and what do I see? A bunch of little kids enjoying the game of baseball. They were in the league where instead of a pitcher or a tee, there was a pitching machine. Normally, I would just turn back around thinking to myself, wow these kids have nothing, everyone knows you can’t be any good at baseball until your balls drop (Ed. Note: That's why I love TBD). But I was drawn into the game. I was drawn by the love that the kids had for the game, and the fun that they had while playing. After the end of the inning, the home team was trotting in to their bench to hit. That is when I noticed the bench players from the away team. Each and every one of them was sitting on the bench with their helmets on. They wouldn’t have been hitting for another 15 minutes, but I just loved the dedication. I also love the different outfits I see during these little little league games. One kid had on shorts, one was wearing sweatpants, one wearing jeans, and always the true ballers that were wearing baseball pants. I continued to watch the game and I continued to love what I saw. The first batter of the inning grounded out to first base, and before he was half way to the base, the first baseman stepped on the bag for an out. The batter was cheering for himself the entire way to first, along with his whole entire bench. They were absolutely loving that fact that he had made contact with the baseball. A couple groundouts, flyouts, and hits (not really they were all errors) later, the final batter of the inning stepped in. He swung at three straight pitches and did not hit a single one of them. Now I think, the batter would have been a tad more successful if he had not swung his bat in the same spot every pitch. No matter how high or low the pitch was, the kid would always swing in the same spot, right down the middle. I came to the conclusion that any contact that was made was pure luck. Anyway, as he was running back to the bench his team was cheering for him and then he said, “That pitcher is throwing too hard!” which made me lol.
___________________________________________________

The next topic that I would like to discuss is old people. Old people are one of a kind, or should I say one in a generation (I don’t even know if that makes any sense). One thing is that they don't like and aren't used to change. Back in their day defective things or people were just done away with. Today midgets roam the earth. Old people do not like this. (Ed. Note: Debatable, I'm not going to support this claim) A perfect example is this.

On the same subject, old white people do not like black people (Ed. Note: Also debatable. Ditto from the last editor's note, I don't support this claim either. Sorry, T.B.). Last year at one of my baseball games a very insensitive yet funny moment occurred. A young black boy from the middle school came up to the bench and stole one of the player’s glove. What he did not know is that the team manager, Porkchop (very old) was watching him. He got up and yelled at the boy: (Editor's removal: What Porkchop said was unbelievably racist, which is why I can't really say it on here. We on the Soup Kitchen are kind and courteous to all.) Luckily my coach restrained Porkchop from doing any serious damage to the boy. (True story folks).
___________________________________________________

Old people have that distinct smell that only they have. I always thought this was true until my friend came over to my house. It was the day after Christmas and he came over in a fleece, baby blue North Carolina sweat suit. Kid smelled exactly like old people. I was astonished. I kicked him out of my house a few minutes later because of the smell. This friend goes by the alias of “X”.
___________________________________________________

Old people can get away with whatever they want whenever they want. One time I saw an old man get caught stealing applesauce at the acme. The acme worker yelled, “Hey geezer, you have to pay for that applesauce.” The old man replied, “But I’m ooooooold. I am really old.” The acme worker thought about what the old man said and let him go. Soon after the old man left the store, he defecated in his pants. Most likely, somebody else would have to clean him up. What a beast. I wish I could just drop a deuce in my pants and make someone else clean it up. (not really…not at all actually) Old men also graced us with this pure entertainment. (Ed. Note: This is probably the funniest thing I have ever seen that has to do with old people, you need to click on this link.)
___________________________________________________

I love Bobby Flay, but if I hated him, this is what I would say. Wow Bobby you are a (Editor's removal: see jerk). Your show THROWDOWN is a win/win situation for you, and a lose/ "ehh" situation for your opponent. You challenge them at their own game. If you beat them at their own game, you come off as a genius while your opponent feels like complete crap because they just let some chef come in out of nowhere and beat them at their own game. If you lose, you don’t lose any reputation because you can always say, "Whatever, I don’t even cook this stupid food," while all your opponent can say is "ehh" I was supposed to win anyway. For all of you out there that don’t really watch the show and just watch like the first ten seconds of the intro, don’t get confused. Throwdown isn’t really a fighting show, it is not even close. So I really don’t know why Bobby would be doing this at 0:49. Come on now, you aren’t looking for fights, you’re looking to perfect other peoples dishes, which is a d-move in and of itself. Honestly, Bobby, nobody is scared of that 2 piece (punch combo). Who are you trying to kid. You’re a cook. You’re not tough. Come to my house, we can “throwdown” whenever you want. (Ed. Note: TBD has been known to be a knock-out perfectionist in his hay-day, so if I were Bobby Flay, I wouldn't take him up on the offer)

Yours truly,

Jake Enteriln (Ed. Note: I could have fixed Jake's name, but I found it hilarious that he misspelled his last name at the end of the post)

___________________________________________________

This video was sent in by Fat Dub. I would have let Jake pick, but this video is just too funny to pass up. It really made me want to visit Cleveland. You can check out the second video of the tour here. Trust me, you want to check this video out, but not before you see the first one. I could write so much more about these videos, but it would take probably three other posts to cover it all.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Speech

2009-04-27T23:46:00.000-04:00

I would just like to say, I am apologetic to each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart for not posting with the frequency that I would like to over the past few weeks. You see, I am what is normally regarded as a procrastinator. It has now sunk in that I should start studying for an important exam that I have in a few weeks instead of spending my free time posting, so that is why my posts have been few and far between. The early predictions are that Fat Dub will be the next guest-poster on the Soup Kitchen, but as of now there is still one day to vote. A lot can change in a small amount of time, so we shall see. Besides posting, my schedule has been kept somewhat busy by watching the playoff teams and doing nefarious activities such as the one I am about to describe to you. The following was written by yours truly, and it has been regarded as quite possibly the greatest pump-up speech mankind has ever laid eyes on. First, for some background information: Saumon Oboudiyat, a huge fan and somewhat frequent subject of some Soup Kitchen fame, entered a dodgeball team into the tournament at school. Although the team was set, Saumon asked me to participate by being the coach/inspirational speaker. Because I had a track meet the day of the tournament, however, I could not attend. I figured I would send the team my little bit of spirit and inspiration through a well-crafted speech, which would incorporate a little pump-up from the great speeches of yesteryear. Saumon informed me only that the team was called Team Thriller (O-Star Superstar's idea) and that the team uniforms would be a white tee with some high socks. With that information, I set off on a journey only a privileged few are allowed to make. I am fully expecting about half of these lines to end up on those quote sites under the category of either greatness, BA-ness or Sobel Soup quotes. Without further ado, I give you The Speech.

To Whom It May Concern (I refuse to write “To Team Thriller,” that is the stupidest name ever),
Today, you young lads may have a chance to achieve greatness only a privileged few are able to reach. I am of course talking about the dodgeball tournament at stake on this fine April evening. As Lou Holtz once appropriately said, with his cute little lisp of his, “I can’t believe that God put us on this Earth to be ordinary.” I’m now paraphrasing with the line after that when he said “And I’ll be damned if (Team Thriller) isn’t (victorious in this dodgeball tournament).” Look, you guys just had a Lou Holtz pep talk. Yeah, it was pretty cool watching him give it in his personalized white tee, with his high socks of course. Let me assure you, he put more heart and soul into this speech than in the song, and believe me, that’s a lot. I literally felt like I was watching Braveheart. Now, I know exactly what we are thinking. You are going to save all of this heart and soul for the games that matter, and you will take it easy on the little guys. Well men, there would be no great ones if there were no little ones, like my main man George Herber used to say. That means I want you to step on the competition's throat. Castrate them if you must. Show no mercy. I don’t care if you have to kill someone in order to win. That is because sacrifices must be made in order to achieve greatness. I’m sure any one of you would be ready and willing to kill a man and spend your lifetime plus 20 years in prison to win this, simply because I know how committed to a man you are. If you do not win, I can guarantee a week won’t go by in your lives that you won’t regret letting them get the best of you. But I’m not worried about that because failure is not an option. Let no man, woman, or unknowing passer-by forget how menacing we are, we are lions. We are like a big bear, man. Nothing can stop this group, and you know why? Because he who reigns over his own domain, he who is the master of his own destiny, can conquer all burdens of which The Almighty may place upon him and emerge victorious. (Editor's Note: I totally made up that line for the sole purpose that it end up on a great quote page, so someone please do the Sobel Soup the favor of sending that in. If you do I will most definitely give you a personal shout-out.) So guys, this is your time. Victory or Death. At the end of the day, I want to be able to say to you fellas "Yo Adrian, we did it." And look guys. It’s not about how hard you hit them, it’s about how much of a hit you can take and keep going forward. It’s about the fundamentals: Dodge, Duck, Dip, Dive and Dodge. THE FUNDAMENTALS!!!!! THAT’S HOW WINNING IS DONE!!!!!!! And as I leave you gentlemen and let you go out on that court today, I firmly believe that you will become winners on that battlefield. So fellas, do us all a favor, and win one for the Sobel Soup.

If you want to tell me to my face that my speech is neither inspiring nor stirring in any way, my reaction would be more emphatic than a Dikembe Mutumbo finger wag. It turns out the dodgeball tournament was cancelled because of a lack of participation. Some may view this as a wasted endeavor. Let me assure you, it was. The positive of this situation is that if I ever need an inspirational speech, I can just use this. Also, for those of you planning on using this, this speech has been trademarked by the Sobel Soup, so don't get any ideas.
___________________________________________________

As you may recall in my last post, I challenged Saumon Oboudiyat to complete Definition by Blackstar. Although you may think Saumon rapping Mos Def is more out of place than a Big Butts Spongebob Squarepants commercial, think again. I was quite impressed by his performance and have given it a passing grade. Congrats Saumon, I look forward to more great work.
___________________________________________________

As many of you have probably noticed, the Flyers have been knocked out of the playoffs. This is supremely disappointing, especially since I am subject to listening to Marc-Andre Fleury spew what some believe to be a primitive form of the English language out of his mouth for at least a few more weeks. As you may have guessed, the playoff beard has changed a bit. Although I am still growing for the Sixers, it would have been beyond me to not shave at least part of it of in honor of the Flyers. I ended up shaving off the 'stache, which I had nicknamed the trash 'stache, because it pretty much made the beard, and the Flyers were pretty much the reason why I started growing in the first place. I still have my chin stubbles, which are starting to become darker, growing out for the Sixers with my boy Fat Dub.

___________________________________________________

This video was sent into sobelsoupkitchen@gmail.com by an anonymous reader. While they didn't include their name and the email address was quite confusing, they did pick out an excellent clip from Seinfeld, which is probably in my top 10 favorite Seinfeld moments (believe me I have a lot of them).

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Catching Up On Lost Time

2009-04-19T21:49:00.000-04:00

Chances are high that once you entered the Soup Kitchen, you noticed a large change about the site. Yes, I did change the background color for all of you who have been complaining to me about your eyes hurting. While it may seem like a subtle change, that is not all that will be changing on the Soup Kitchen. Jack Eiel has avoided contact with me at all costs during this entire week (not really, I see him everyday), and it seems that he is refusing to write another Soup Kitchen guest post. He says that he has writer's block, which doesn't make much sense, considering he would be writing a blog about nothing. For all of you who it so concerns, please belittle, bad-mouth, and blister Jack to no end. To take a page out of Samuel Gallu's book, "Give 'em Hell." Instead of having Jack post at every odd multiple of 500 views, I have now changed it to every 2,000 views from 500. So that means 2,500. I will be free to adjust it as I please, considering it is my blog, and I am the master of my own domain (literally).

I can make one promise to all of you, and I pinky-swear I won't go back on this one. This one takes a bit of explaining to get to, however. First, I have to let you all know that I first made this blog because of Mark Titus, the creator of Club Trillion. For those of you who do not read his blog, which I am assuming is most, if not all, of you, his arch-nemesis is Evan Turner. He received the nickname "The Villain," because, according to his Facebook status, Evan Turner is chillin'. Evan Turner somewhat resents this nickname, and calls himself "The Kid" (self-appointed nickname, mind you.) Being inspired by Mark Titus, I came to be comparing my blog situation with his own. I figured out that I was Titus, blogger extraordinaire, Jack (previously) was Keller, a not-so frequent guest poster, and Omar is Evan Turner, the arch-nemesis and receiver of much teasing from the blog. A similarity can clearly be seen between the two men* (debatable). Besides the fact that they look very similar, they both appoint nicknames for themselves (The Kid and O-Star Superstar), they are both stars on the basketball courts (but not in our hearts, like Rahlir), and are goons off of it. Furthermore, they both love Asher Roth. To quote the Villain: "OK, I know this is random, but for real y’all need to go get Asher Roth’s CD when it comes out next week. That dude opens his mouth and greatness flows out. Just a little advice from The Kid. Back to what I was saying." I also received an Instant Message tonight from none other than the Superstar saying "yo asher roth's new album is crazy, i love it." Clearly we have a case of long-lost brothers here. Recently, Club Trillion went over 1,000,000 hits, and to celebrate the occasion, Mark Titus allowed The Villain to guest post. I worked out a deal with Omar that at 15,000 views, I would let him get on and do a guest post. Yes, I realize it will most likely be awful, but you will just have to bear with it until the next post. Also, please give me your input with who you would like to have guest post on here with the poll in the right-hand column. If you want a shot, you are going to have to email me your post at sobelsoupkitchen@gmail.com. I will read over it and decide whether or not you have what it takes to make it in the Soup Kitchen.

___________________________________________________

While Sweater Vest Thursday has officially died, along with the counter, the Sobel Soup did rock the sweater vest better than Jim Tressel to one of his dances. Yeah, the ladies were impressed and yeah, I looked really good.

___________________________________________________

The playoff beard is growing strong, there is noticeable peach fuzz on my beard now and the 'stache is getting pretty junkie. I worked out a deal with Fat Dub, who is growing a Sixers playoff beard. This states that I will not shave my facial hair until both Philadelphia teams are out of the playoffs. Speaking of the playoff situation, I am thoroughly pleased with the way both teams performed today. The Flyers had won a must-win in Game 3, while the Sixers won Game 1 in thrilling fashion thanks to Andre Iguodala and my boy, Big D, Donyell Marshall. Also, I have to give AMPAP (look it up in my post to the ladies) to Xander "Cran" Rizzello for committing himself to the growth of a great playoff beard as well. His 'stache is more grown in, but his beard does not have as many peach fuzzies as mine does. Nonetheless, it takes a lot to be a team player and grow the beard, but X is doing it, and doing it big.

___________________________________________________

This video clip was sent into me by a devoted fan, Saumon Oboudiyat. He too shares the love for the Fresh Prince. I was conversing with Saumon recently when he told me he would try to do a cover of Definition by Blackstar, which includes the beginning by Mos Def. I personally thought it would be impossible, so I told him if he could pull that off, he would get a spot on the Soup Kitchen. Yes, I formally challenged him to do it, so we shall see indeed if he can complete his mission.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Harry the K- Outta the Park But In Our Hearts

2009-04-13T20:59:00.000-04:00

Just as a prelude to this post, I would just like to inform you all that I was planning on writing an Easter post. However, when the tragic news broke from Washington, I had to write about this. We are nearing 1500 views and as you all know, that means Jack will be posting. Most of the dry humor usually put into my blog posts will be all but out, at least in the Kalas section, just out of respect for Harry.

Onto the horrific news that cast a shadow over the whole Southeastern Pennsylvania region: the death of Harry Kalas. While the athletes come and go, broadcasters make a home in their cities. That is exactly what Harry Kalas did. He crossed four decades here in Philadelphia, making genuine friends out of every single person who ever watched a Phillies game. Not only did he go through decades, he was the voice for three generations of Phillies Phans. My grandfather, Jeffrey J. and I are all stunned at the loss and feel as if we lost someone special. For nearly every Philadelphian, he was a family member. People opened up their homes to him on a nightly basis. Thus, all of us feel as if we have lost a family member. In the broadcasting field he was rivaled by few, yet respected and beloved by all.

All of us have our favorite Kalas moments. I, unfortunately, was not there to witness and hear his calls of the '80, '83, and '93 teams or hear him call a game with his great friend Whitey. It was fitting that Kalas's last season ended in a world championship for the Phillies, his call of which was phenomenal, still sending chills down my back. The fact that the call does not even break my top 3 Kalas moments is a prime example of the exuberance that he displayed day-in and day-out dealing with the game of baseball. Whether it was in the dog days of July and August or a World Series game, Harry brought with him a fresh, fun outlook on the game that goes unrivaled across the sport. My personal top 3 Kalas moments are probably different from most, if not all, of you.

3. With Chase Utley on second base, Ryan Howard hit a high chopper down the first baseline. Howard was thrown out but Utley's all-out hustle allowed him to score. What followed from Harry was classic: "Chase Utley, you are the man!!!"

2. Last season, with the Phillies down 5 to 4 in the 10th inning to the Giants, Pat Burrell stepped up to the plate to face Giants closer Brian Wilson. He ended up hitting a walk-off, to which Harry gave his "Long Drive! Watch this baby, outta here! Walk-off home run, Pat Burrell!"

1. Although the Phillies ended up losing in the first round to the Rockies, the fact that they made the playoffs in 2007 was a great memory, just to know that they got there. Harry topped this off with a rendition of "High Hopes" for the ages.

I first heard this news from Omar, who interestingly enough has the best Kalas call I know with his "LOOOOOOONG DRIVE!! THIS ONE IS OUTTAAAA HERE!!! HOME RUN BOBBY ABRAY-HU!!!" (Emphasis on the -HU, just like Harry did it.)

The Phillies season, according to Mark Kram (whose name is the same forwards and backwards, isn't that super cool?), went from sweet, with the ring presentation, to bitter, with the death of Harry Kalas. The beautiful thing about baseball is that we keep playing, but we never forget the touching life of this inspirational figure. He will surely be missed, and may he rest in peace.

___________________________________________________

I do have to give a big shoutout to my boy, Davy Gross, for writing up an article about the blog in the Panther Press, the school paper. The support and publicity is greatly appreciated Davy, keep up the good work.

___________________________________________________

It is once again playoff time in Philadelphia, with the Flyers entering Stanley Cup Playoffs as the 5 seed. This of course means it is time for the Sobel Soup to grow his world-famous playoff beard. This tradition started last year, when I promised not to shave until the Flyers were out. I grew close to what growth Sidney Crosby had on his face last year. Jeffrey J. unfortunately made me shave it off before the Pittsburgh series. Of course they lost that series. For the Phillies, however, they ended up winning the World Series without me shaving. I am back to do it for the Fly-guys, and I promise, no shaving. I will keep you all updated on the status of the playoff beard/stache. For all of your sakes, you should hope the Flyers make it all the way to the finals, so I can look like a full out baller.

___________________________________________________

I again have to bypass the video requests for this week to make way for the legend that passed on today. Harry, you will always be missed and never be forgotten. I apologize for the quality of the video, but it is too good to pass up.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Champs to Chumps- Opening Night With the Phillies

2009-04-07T01:02:00.000-04:00

Before I talk about my night somewhat well-spent with the Fightins, I do have to comment on the pathetic performance my Villanova Wildcats put on for the entire nation to see Saturday evening. Although they did only lose by 14, the moment my astronomical expectations came in touch with reality, I looked sadder than Queen without Freddie Mercury. I totally enjoyed Dante Cunningham's emotional locker room interview with tears running down his face: it was raw emotion at its finest. I only hope he doesn't make an NBA Live commercial proclaiming that once he gets to the NBA "more people will cry" (I think the only people that have cried because of Adam Morrison are those in Los Angeles subject to viewing the worst 'stache in history perform nightly). The fact that the Wildcats lost to the eventual national champion, North Carolina, would make it a little bit nicer, except for the fact that it has happened 4 out of the 5 last years. I'm not quite sure how I would have reacted had the Wildcats pulled off the upset and won the championship, I suppose neither the world nor this blog will ever know. One could base it off the last, and only, time a team the Sobel Soup has rooted for has won a championship.

I am of course talking about the Philadelphia Phillies, your 2008 World Champions of baseball. If you are not aware of the spring weather, baseball season has again started up. This brings a breath of fresh air with it, not for the particular reason that I get to watch the Phillies again. It is mostly refreshing because when describing the baseball season, I only have to use one year. As opposed to the other sports, where they play before and after the New Year, the baseball season avoids confusion by playing all of its season inside of new years. Besides that, Sunday's Opening Night was an exciting one, because the Sobel Soup was in attendance. That's right, Jeffrey J. pulled some stunts to get three standing room admission tickets. We had an extra ticket, so we decided to bring along O-Star Superstar, who you all know pretty well by now. Our trio's pregame buzz was all but ruined when we saw a man drop his pants and proceed to take a leak right in front of us while we walked to the stadium. I'm fairly certain that is illegal, and with all the police surrounding us, he must have had some kahonas, or he probably would have had to squat. It was quite awkward walking by him, as you can imagine none of us made eye contact. Now, I take a leaker in public as much as the next guy, but usually one does the common courtesy of positioning themselves in a somewhat concealable manner. Not this guy. He literally started to pee right on the sidewalk. Luckily he was facing the other way, so none of our eyes were permanently damaged. As for the reasoning behind this man's bold move, one can never be certain.

After looking for about five minutes for the ESPN cameras outside the stadium that show people walking around, we decided to head inside. Once we got in, a huge advertising opportunity awaited me. Standing right in front of us was a gigantic Phillies championship t-shirt ("Phinally" bore the front) that was available for Phan signature. The pressure was on when I took the Sharpie, and since I spent my time searching out a spot to write, I had no idea what to sign. I ended up putting "Sobel Soup." In retrospect, this would have been the perfect opportunity to write out "sobelsoupkitchen.blogspot.com." It would have been a mouthful, sure, but I would have gotten it done. Anyway, if someone is ever in the presence of that big shirt, look at the very bottom right hand corner and you will most likely see the Sobel Soup's signature.

The pregame festivities were all pretty fun. The best had to be when the parachuters came down. For those of you that saw it on TV, I'm guessing you didn't get to see this fine display of money well-spent by the United States government. Parachuters actually landed in the middle of the field. If you couldn't guess already by the description, it was really cool. It was also hilarious because one of the parachuters landed outside of the stadium. Either that or he somehow got lifted up into the air again and came back down onto the field, but I'm bargaining on the former. All of the parachuters stuck the landings to make it even more ballin' than it already was.

After all of this, the crowd was ready for the game to start. If you don't already know, the Phillies had lost 3 straight opening day games. The Phillies winning the World Series last year made about as much of a change to this trend as moving Sportscenter to the West Coast did for that fine piece of programming (I'll give you a hint: that means it didn't change!!). Brett Myers looked to be in his mid-season form by channeling his inner minor-league self for yet another year.

Even though the Superstar and I were displeased by the play on the field, we were thoroughly entertained by the couple standing next to us. This included several things, one of which included getting beer spilled on my shirt. I'm pretty proud of myself because I did indeed handle it very well. The woman bought me a soda to make up for it, and she probably would have offered to buy the Phillies for me if she had not had to leave, the reason of which was her boyfriend flipped the bird to a Braves reliever. This whole beer-spilling experience was worth it simply because Omar made a fool out of himself. We were leaning on a ledge when it was spilled and I took my shirt off. No, the ladies did not get a free show by getting a good, long glimpse of the Sobel Soup at his finest without his shirt on: I did have an undershirt on. I accidentally placed the tail end of it back into the mess when I was taking it off and getting it cleaned. Omar proceeded to call me "such an idiot" for this act. It was a few minutes later when he came back to eat his words when he realized he was still leaning on a part of the beer puddle, and that his sweatshirt had gotten wet because of it.

The time that we didn't spend getting beer spilled on us, we spent listening to how this girl's brother plays catcher for the Rhode Island baseball team. Apparently, like Derrick (I had to put this link in because it is the best rendition I have ever heard), he too has not had a carb since 2004. Believe me, I have searched the website for a freakish, 6-4, 250 pound catching prospect who could someday play in the majors, but I have yet to find him. He is supposedly "the biggest guy (the man next to me has) ever seen." Besides this, the man taught us many a life lesson, including do not go to Temple, major in business and earn $1 million a year because it simply is not worth it. We should go out West and enjoy the good life. The last highlight of the night with this inspiring figure was when he got in a fight with a woman named Tina, who unjustly accused him of turning around and then proceeding to talk about her with his girlfriend. When she called him out on this, he told her that she has "some kind of inferiority," but that she had to "deal with it on (her) own and not bring (him) into it." (I am doing the word-substituting thing the papers do, it's more professional that way) Score: 1 for the man with the insight, 0 for Tina.

That just about sums up the highlights of the night.

___________________________________________________

I did have a suggestion for this week which I will have in the next post. The reason I am not putting that in is because when I saw the video below, I knew that it had the Soup Kitchen written all over it. It is fairly recent, so I am imagining that some of you have already seen it. Even if you have, you probably know that it is well worth another look. Just a little note, my two favorite passengers would have to be the guy in the front left with the pen in his mouth and the guy at 2:17 that does the nice gang sign. Killer.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Coach Ed: Baller Fo' Real

2009-04-02T16:29:00.000-04:00

To whom it may concern: Jack will not be posting every 500 hits. If you may recall, I stated that he would post at 500, 1500, 2500 and so on. So, for those of you arithmetically challenged, it is every odd multiple of 500 hits. I know, its more complex than the time warp in Lost, but you get the picture. As you may have also noticed, it is Thursday. The reason this is significant is not because it is an easy Big Mac's birthday (Just kidding, happy birthday mortal enemy). As is often the case, people all around probably sported their sweater vests today. I, however, did not rock it. I have a perfectly good reason for this. You see, last week was the big matchup versus the Dukies so I had to wear my Villanova gear. My boys won, so I have to continue to do it. I'm more superstitious than Stevie Wonder. I did see an absolute boss wear a sweater vest in one Mr. P (the coolest teacher ever according to Jack). I appreciate the support, Señor.

I would imagine many of you are presently wondering who this Coach Ed character is, and I'm going to explain it to you with the help of my good friend Fat Dub. You see, Fat Dub is a very ambitious young man. He once wrote an article about our favorite coach on the track team. Before I let you know about this glorious man, I have to give you a bit of background information. This spring, I tried out for the baseball team. Now, since I can't throw 92 with movement, I was cut. This presented a great opportunity in itself, for I was able to now run track. I was assuming this would be a stay-in-shape season for me, where I could just spend my weekday afternoons with Fat Dub. This is precisely where my calculations went wrong. I did not take into account the Coach Ed factor.

Besides being our track coach, Coach Ed is one of Fat Dub's three favorite people ever. The man puts Tyler Durden to shame. Some of you may tell Fat Dub "Will, you hardly even know Coach Ed, he has barely been your coach for a month." To that, Fat Dub just says to you "Stop complaining and go back to giving me sweet birthday presents." Believe me, that's a direct quote. Fat Dub has broken down the Coach Ed aura into 8 categories, which I will explain for you. Just to get you in the right frame of mind, Coach Ed is in his thirties (it's the new twenty!!!), is about 5'4 - 5'8'' and is a track and field coach extraordinaire. He also has some killer pictures with famous runners, pictured below. If you couldn't guess he is the good looking guy in the left-hand corner.

Favorite TV Show: Dhani Tackles the Globe- While this is an honorable mention of mine, it is one of Coach Ed's favorite shows. It just screams out Coach Ed probably because it is based off the premise of being an international show. Coach Ed is foreign as well, according to Fat Dub he is originally from Iran. Another reason why Coach Ed is all about this show is that he probably thinks he can do each and every stunt better than the bowtie can.

This is a facet of Coach Ed's life that me and Fat Dub do disagree on. I think his favorite shows are the many Gordon Ramsay cooking shows. Coach Ed only has basic cable, simply because he gets home too late from doing activities only Baller Fo' Real's can pull off. He ends up watching his shows online. These include Kitchen Nightmares and Hell's Kitchen. Believe me when I tell you this, but Coach Ed is straight up wild about these. I also have a theory that his love for Gordon Ramsay is fueled by his hate for Bobby Flay, who Ed calls "a total D-Bag."

I would have to be pretty crazed not to tell you about Coach Ed's now former love for Survivor. Last year, Coach Ed sent in his cast video requesting to be on the hit reality show Survivor. Now, I'm not a big follower of the show, but just from first-hand knowledge I can honestly say that Coach Ed would be the grand-prize winner. I'm certain he could survive simply by eating ants and telling his favorite anecdotes. There are too many for me to explain right now, but my favorite is about how big of a bully Coach Ed was, and how he used to make the sophomores carry his books for him in high school. Anyway, Coach Ed was not accepted to be on the show, probably because the producers knew another network would make a show all about Coach Ed after he was done with the show, and attention would be shifted from Survivor to "Coach Ed: Bona Fide Baller."

I'm not sure about any of the other things Fat Dub wrote about for Coach Ed, simply because I have no idea what any of them are.

Favorite Movie: House Party 4
Favorite Band: African Tribal Orchestra
Favorite Sport: Wheelchair Rugby (I can see this being his favorite pasttime, even more so than track)
Favorite Book: Mission Earth by L. Ron Hubbard
Favorite French Impressionist Painter: Frederic Bazille
Favorite Middle Earth Species: Ents
Least Favorite Member of the Starship Enterprise- Mr. Spock (Only Coach Ed)

Fat Dub and I have yet to ask Coach Ed's opinion on sweater vests. The bet was that if Coach Ed said that sweater vests were awesome, Will (Fat Dub's alter ego) would have to wear a sweater vest to school. If Coach Ed said sweater vests sucked, then I would have to take out my sweater vest counter at the bottom of my blog. If all goes well, I'll have a picture of Fat Dub in a sweater vest for all to see.

If there is one thing to remember about Coach Ed, besides the fact that he is a Baller Fo' Real, it's that he is the same man who today said "You've never ran in a hurricane, until you've ran in a hurricane." Never has a more true statement been truly stated. This single breath embodies everything that Coach Ed lives for, which, consequently, is all that matters in the world.

___________________________________________________

Sweater Vest Spottings: 45 (1 Last Thursday)

Because of a lack of participation from all, including me, I'm considering stopping the Sweater Vest Thursday counter, but not before we get Coach Ed's opinion on sweater vests.

___________________________________________________

Following after my inspiration, Mark Titus, I'm going to try to put in sweet videos at the end of my posts. This first video was recommended by Nate Parker. Any future requests can be proposed to me at any time in the comments section, in person, or emailed to me at sobelsoupkitchen@gmail.com.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Scottie Doesn't Know That He Made My Night

2009-03-29T17:03:00.000-04:00

First, to address some juicy comments that were left on my last post: While I am not suspicious at all about two ladies from Arizona who will both be visiting Villanova in the coming weeks leaving me comments five minutes apart from each other, I do have to say thanks but no thanks. I'm sorry, but you don't have to worry. That's because it's not you, it's me.

Now, onto the main point of my post. I'm fairly certain all of you by now have at least seen the ending of the game last night between my Villanova Wildcats and Pitt. In a quick recap for all of you who didn't see the game, Scottie Reynolds, for whom the title of this post was named after, won the East Regional MOP award after he hit a driving layup to win the game. It is safe to say that my reaction was exactly like my boy C-Webb's, only replace REYNOLDS with RONDO. I am almost positive that this is the second greatest Elite 8 Game in the history of the NCAA Tournament. What with the constant lead changes and the almost-buzzer-beater at the end, I could not have asked for a better game with a better outcome.

This game of course resulted because of a 23 point drubbing of the Dukies. As you may already know, I hate Duke (Jon Scheyer and his goofy facial distortions especially). The fact that Villanova not only knocked them out of the tournament, but sent them home crying (and massaging each other?) was icing on the cake for my Thursday night. It is needless to say that I gave Fat Dub, JD Sparks XIV, the infamous Clay Packel, and Ibo DeGrouchy, who are all "Duke fans" a very hard time at school on Friday. It was especially refreshing to get after Ibo, who was just flat out "talking stupid" during the week. By the end of the day Friday, Ian's responses were receding more than Gerald Henderson's hairline.

Villanova's Elite 8 win of course puts them in the Final Four. Their opponent, however, is yet to be decided. It is between Oklahoma or North Carolina. I have been asked many times about who I would rather see them play. This matchup basically comes down to whether I would rather see them play the chillest cucumber in the land, Blake Griffin, or the most oblivous-looking garbage man in the history of sports, Tyler Hansbrough. It pains me to say this, but these two gentlemen are equals on the BA Scale. Blake Griffin achieved his status by straight up posterizing fools, while Tyler Hansbrough got his by jumping off of a frat house. Because of these things, I have no preference on who Villanova plays.

___________________________________________________

The Soup Kitchen has had a Facebook fan page for a while now, I have just been too lazy and forgetful to link you to it. You can reach it by going here. My thanks go out to Saumon Oboudiyat for setting it all up for me.

___________________________________________________

While I did take a break from sweater vest Thursday to wear my Villanova gear, I did manage to spot Mr. Bob Jesson sporting a sweater with the collar sticking out, which I do count in my sweater vest counter.

Sweater Vest Spottings: 44 (1 Last Thursday)

___________________________________________________

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Ladies... Meet the Sobel Soup

2009-03-24T21:21:00.000-04:00

In my last post, I spoke about eating Big Macs, and my recent struggles in that department. These times have continued, and I remain very hungry. I do have to give AMPAP (As Much Props as Possible) to my boy Wheels Walters, who ate a huge Big Mac the other day on a young woman in the library. To make my job of macking on the ladies easier, I have tried several times unsuccessfully to show my blog to them. I know what you are thinking, and yes, I do realize how truly pathetic that is. But, I really have nothing else to go on, and when Jake Enterlin (formerly TBD) dares you, it is pretty much a requirement that you have to do it. So, to make their (and my) job a little easier, I have decided to tell everyone about myself. Think of this as my E-Harmony dating profile, or whatever they call them these days.

Television Show: The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. First of all, television used to be one of the main facets of my life. Back in my prime, about 8th grade or so, I would watch close to 4 hours of TV a night. Although my production has since decreased, television remains an important part of my life. The TV show that started it all for me had to be the Fresh Prince. My love for this fine standard of programming excellence all started with Geoffrey. He, like me, is quick with a witty line. He can also groove with the best of them. Along the lines of grooving, Carlton's Dance was a side-splitter. I have many a times attempted to equal the snapping arms and the fast-moving legs of Master Banks, but have yet to succeed. He could also hit a killer note when singing Jungle Fever. As you can see I can go on and on with the links to great moments of the show. One more thing, whenever Jazz got thrown out, it was always funny. I can't remember one time when it got old, sort of like this.
Honorable Mention: Dhani Tackles the Globe (I'm a sucker for the bow-tie)

My Choice of Attire: Sweater vests do not count, simply because I have already done an entire post on that. So besides that, it would have to be anything that Jay Wright has ever worn. He is, for those of you that do not know, the head coach of my Villanova Wildcats and undoubtedly the best dressed coach in all of college basketball. I would die to have a pick of clothes in Jay Wright's closet. He is my self-proclaimed style mentor, besides your friend and my favorite, of course.

My Ideal Day: First, I would have breakfast, presumably made by the lady who is attracted by this post. This breakfast would consist of the best foods. Of course I am talking about bacon, bacon, and more bacon. You don't have to consult me, you can pretty much ask Beans about it, and he will tell you all you need to know. Next would be a romantic picnic on the beach. I would supply the candles, which would be as un-necessary as that hyphen, and the lady friend would supply the food. After that, I would go on a long, moon-lit walk on the beach, picking up quaint shells and storing them in a small, blue bucket. Actually, I am completely lying. After the picnic I would watch both the first and second seasons of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, all the way through. That pretty much sums up the perfect day in my eyes.

My Favorite Song: I Try- Macy Gray/ Get Silly- VIC (I refuse to recognize that Soulja Boy took part in this song). Macy's voice speaks for itself in I Try, and Get Silly just gets me so hyphy, I can't help but stand up and try to do the Carlton dance.

Celebrity Look-a-Like: Michael Phelps. I know that you are all thinking that Michael Phelps is about 6'5'', with a 7'0'' wingspan. The comparison pretty much starts and ends with the facial region. It especially looks out of place because I legitimately cannot swim, and he did alright over in Beijing.

Favorite Power Ranger: Tommy, hands down. No explanation is even necessary.

Favorite Stubble Beard: This really isn't even a competition. I just had to put this in here because I had to get this off my chest. Even though Kurt Warner has twice caused me pain the NFC Championship Games, I have to give him the props that he rightfully deserves. He has the greatest stubble beard mankind has ever seen. Clay Packel, of previous Soup Kitchen Fame, may actually stand a chance to rival him in the stubble beard department, but he has a ways to go.

Favorite Cooked Vegetable: Cooked Zucchini. The exquisite taste of cooked zucchini in the summer time is the best vacation my taste buds have ever been on. I actually considered growing a vegetable garden of my own, but then I realized it would take a lot of work. On top of that, if Howie Long ever came to my house, he would never let me hear the end of it for having my own 'Man Garden'. I quickly decided against it, and stuck with wishing that I had a permanent supply of zucchini.

So there you have it ladies, that is the Sobel Soup for you. Get back to me as you wish. And just so all of you know, this was done completely out of satire, except for the Fresh Prince part, that's true.

___________________________________________________

Sweater Vest Spottings: 43 (41 Last Thursday)

___________________________________________________

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Bandleaders, Manleaders, and Sweater Vests- My Trip to the NCAA's

2009-03-20T16:48:00.000-04:00

I hope you all appreciated Jack's first guest post. Despite a few heated comments, the majority of the readers loved the post. Don't worry, he will be back. Now as you all know from my last post, I went to the NCAA Tournament in Philadelphia yesterday. I will break down each game for you in this post. Except instead of actually talking about the games, I will tell you everything that you didn't see on the television Thursday.

BYU v. Texas A&M- The first game of the afternoon was certainly an entertaining one. Texas A&M won for a few reasons. First was that BYU did not come to play. Their multiple wives must have all had problems, or maybe their religious leader was escaping persecution by moving to Utah. I'm not really sure. Another reason for their loss may be because of my boy, Jimmer Fredette. I don't personally know any Mormons, but that is a Mormon name if I have ever heard one. It was destiny that he ended up playing at BYU. There is one more reason why BYU lost, and there is no way someone can tell me otherwise. I am of course talking about the game's X-Factor, the Texas A&M manleader. This is purely speculation, but I'm guessing the job of a manleader is just to lift up the cheerleaders so they can do super-cool stunts in the air. This was not the case for A&M. The manleaders were the main part of the show. If you can look in the picture, I'm fairly certain that he is the one standing in the middle. The first thing I learned about this guy was that he loved to point his finger, almost as much as The Wiggles do. I don't think he once stopped pointing his abnormally large fingers at the Texas A&M crowd. He also loved to do a flamboyant dance with his other manleaders. I felt it was a cross somewhere between this and this. It seemed like as soon as this game started, with all of the antics of my favorite manleader, it ended.

UConn v. Chattanooga- This game started out somewhat eventful, what with Chattanooga taking the lead in the early going. The crowd was sensing the first 16-1 upset in the history of the tournament and UConn promptly went on about a 30-0 run, ending all hopes that I had of actually seeing a good game. This led me to partake in a couple of my favorite past times: Sweater Vest Spottings and Big Screen Games. First the Big Screen Games. The Wachovia Center has a rather large scoreboard, underneath of which during the game they ran the telecast on CBS. The TV timeouts were when it got juicy. You see, the NCAA made up a nice little game called MEAN MARBLESC. Now, if you don't have the unscrambling skills of a champ like I do, you would probably have trouble understanding what the game is all about. For those of you that are unscrambling-ly challenged, it means NAME SCRAMBLE. For this game, they would scramble a name of a famous basketball player and put it on the board. The great players, such as myself, did not need that much time to unscramble the names. VIAREN NOHNOSJ, for example, could easily be deciphered as Earvin Johnson. The toughest one probably had to be HISTRICAN TALETNER, which translates to Christian Laettner. Other big screen game favorites included the Who Am I? Puzzle, which gave facts and slowly removed puzzle pieces to reveal who the person indeed was, and the NCAA Tournament Trivia. I was a baller at all of these games except for the "Which NCAA Logo is the Ball Under" Game, which was not completely fair because I was looking for sweater vests at the start of it. This brings me to sweater vest spottings. Apparently I have a big fan of the blog in one Jerome Dyson, who clearly knew that it was Sweater Vest Thursday and came out to support the cause. I guess a lot of other people read the Soup Kitchen as well because, believe it or not, I spotted 41 sweater vests yesterday, including your friend and my favorite and Jerome Dyson, of course. Besides spotting sweater vests and completely out-performing my counterparts in scoreboard games, I thoroughly enjoyed watching Stanley Robinson and his ponytail perform an impressive array of dunks that would have the Texas A&M manleader jump for joy, and probably point a little more.

The time in between sessions left some time for me to sit back and read a Sports Illustrated. I guess you can say that this kept me thoroughly entertained because of the 3-D glasses included with it. Jeff sneakily snapped some pictures of me using the glasses, maybe because he thought it was amusing. I have to say the best picture to look at with the 3-D glasses was the McDonald's one, which pretty much shoved the Big Mac right in my face. This got me thinking of how big a failure I have been at eating Big Macs lately. For those of you unfamiliar with the term "Eating a Big Mac," it is really quite simple. If you are hungry for some healthy conversation with a lady, you go over and talk to a young woman of your choice. It is just like macking on a lady, except it gives the man's associates a chance to give the guy an "Eating the Big Mac" symbol. This is when they place an imaginary Big Mac right up to their mouth and wiggle their fingers, showing that their friend is indeed eating the Big Mac. Eating and digesting the Big Mac is the best option, for it leaves you full and completely satisfied. That is what we at Strath Haven like to call the "Jenna Frost." She is probably the easiest to eat a Big Mac on and serves it to mostly anybody. Now I'm not inferring that this is a bad thing or that she is easy. I'm simply stating that she enjoys a good conversation. She is like the drive-thru. The worst option is what we call "Getting Your Big Mac Spit On" or the "Kerri Ann Raimo." This is also known as getting completely shut down. Kerri Ann is bitter, and unless you bring your A game, she will let you have it. Anyway, I have been largely unsuccessful in my attempts to eat Big Macs lately and will be attempting a rebound soon. It has left me very hungry. As you can see, you can take this metaphor and go too far (Just so you all know, I have never listened to this song before. I just picked it because it is called Go Too Far, and I was looking to link for about the 8,000th time this paragraph)

Villanova v. American- I really have nothing to offer about this game because I was so nervous that Villanova would have actually lost this game. I just have to say my boy, the D.A., Dwayne Anderson (sorry Dwayne, but I had to go there), came up huge. American received an out-of-this-world performance from Garrison Carr, who I grew to hate as the game went on.

UCLA v. VCU- The battle of letters may have been the best game Jeffrey J. and I saw all night. First of all, the game was great (VCU came up short on a buzzer-beater attempt). The real story, however, even more so than the Aggie manleader, was the VCU bandleader. Apparently he goes by the name Ryan Kopacsi, and he is the most BA person I have ever met. He got down and funky all game long and had better stamina with his clap than the Texas A&M manleader did with the finger pointing. His style was what set him apart. He came in wearing a black and yellow cape. He promptly took that off revealing a nice, white button-down shirt. He soon removed that, only wearing a wife beater. He led the VCU pep band well, which if it is not TBDBITL, it is certainly The Grooviest/Funkiest Band in the Land. Yeah, I realize TGFBITL is not as catchy as TBDBITL, but it certainly is close.

Jeffrey J. and I got home at 1:00 in the morning, so that meant it was 13 hours of basketball. Well maybe it was closer to 2 and half hours, with the other 10 and half hours spent noticing obscure things for the blog's sake.

___________________________________________________

Sweater Vest Spottings: 43 (41 Last Thursday)

___________________________________________________

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Mr. Jack Eiel's First Guest Appearance

2009-03-18T20:38:00.001-04:00

As a prelude to this post I need to talk about the Wawa. As you may know from Omar's story, the Wawa has played an integral part in the lives of every Wallingfordian. For every Swarthmorean, the Co-Op will never, ever replace the Wawa. I have better memories there than in my own house. It is a sad day for all of humanity for the Wawa has been shut down, replaced by a Pantry One. This is a disgrace. Also, for all of you that are expecting me to wear a sweatervest tomorrow, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that I will not be wearing a sweater vest tomorrow. I did, however make up for it by wearing a sweater vest tonight to my mother's birthday dinner (Happy Birthday Mom). The good news is that I will be going down to the Wachovia Center to watch the NCAA games with your friend and my favorite. To go along with that, I will be documenting my times down there and will let you all in on what went on, behind the scenes. I realize you are all expecting Jack to post, but I would just like to put in my two cents: I have reached level 50 too, and I completely agree about Vin Diesel. I will also be putting in my two cents throughout the post when necessary. So, without further ado, The Jack Eiel.

___________________________________________________

Ok, now as Mr. Soup has informed you, I will be posting an article every 500th hit on this site. Now because I was given no definite instructions or topic of what to write about, I’ll just do it and see what happens.

___________________________________________________

So at approximately 5:11 this evening I received a cryptic text from none other than Mr. Soup reading, “Yo call me you need post.” Obviously, Soup has been in some sort of horrific accident inhibiting his ability to complete sentences, so I called right away. My initial thoughts were pretty far off seeing as it was just a slight typing mistake. Nonetheless, it was time for me to make my debut for the Soup Kitchen. So at around 5:12 I began working vigorously on my post. Now with no further ado, here are some views on life from me.

___________________________________________________

As Soup mentioned in his last post, I have indeed been in the Bill Simmons mailbag on multiple occasions. After hearing this I know what you thought. “Oh this Jack Eiel must be a very proactive and ridiculously good looking guy.” Sadly this is not the case (Editor's Note: Except for the good looking guy part, that's true). I’m actually so lazy, that I don’t have the motivation to surf the Internet to link you to my amazing B.S. posts. To get you in the right frame of mind, I would also like to share that I am currently receiving a lower grade in Gym class than Biology, simply because of my so called ‘lack of participation’. Which is ridiculous, I participate in gym as often as Jack Bauer merks someone for no particular reason. Anyway, enough about me, on to more important issues.

___________________________________________________

Ok first topic of discussion, the new Facebook. “Oh my gosh! It is so gosh darn different from the old Facebook. I don’t know where anything is.” This is my best impression of little boys and little girls everywhere who fear change. I could honestly care less about the changes on Facebook. Change is good for everybody once in a while; it makes the world a better place. I mean really, just listen to this.
So watch out because if I see one more status similar to this one
“new facebook sucks.”
Or
“the new facebook = reallll annoying.”
I’m libel to do this to someone.

___________________________________________________

Please, don’t click the following link just yet because it demon powers will distract you from reading the rest of this post. (Ed. Note: He is right. Really, don't do it.) Run is the work of the devil. Now I’m not one to toot my own horn, but I have skillz when it comes to ‘run’. I’ve reached the last level, level 50, on multiple occasions. Only to find that the 50th level can literally not be beaten, the old T.B.D. (RIP) concurred with me on this count. We agreed that it is impassable, unconquerable, and almost the exact opposite of Ron Stoppable. For now on it is my life goal to beat this game, or at least witness someone else beating it. That’s all I want, but I know it will never happen. It’s like wanting Vin Diesel to make a good movie. I mean I want him to so, but, sadly, I know it will never happen.

___________________________________________________

Once a year, every year, I start feeling left out. So left out, in fact, I contemplate reading the Twilight series. (Don’t worry I never do.) So as you can imagine, it is really quite depressing to reach this time of year once again. And I know what question your asking yourself. (Ed. Note: I had to remove a sentence here because of the family-friendliness of the blog. Let me assure you, it was hilarious). But the other question you’re probably asking yourself is ‘what pray tell is such an event that it leaves, one such as yourself feeling ‘left out’’. It’s quite simple: March Madness.

Despite having ridiculous ball control and a wet jumper to top that, I really know nothing about college basketball. I’m usually left out of my friends’ reindeer games due to my lack of basketball knowledge. So this year I will be implementing a new strategy. Instead of choosing teams for my bracket based on skill or ranking (because I can’t), I will be picking all 65 games based entirely on who has a better mascot. For instance: #8 Ohio State Buckeyes against #9 Siena. Now this might seem like a tough game to pick. Nope. Let’s examine the mascots. Ohio State has a Buckeye. Do you know what a Buckeye is? It’s a dessert. So who in the world assigned it to be a mascot, preposterous, right? Siena on the other hand has a good rough and tumble mascot by the name of Bernie the St. Bernard. Needless to say, Siena and Bernie take this matchup hands down. I assure you this type of analysis will be going into every one of my picks.

___________________________________________________

And please, Ladies, don’t be intimidated by the Soup's good looks. (Ed. Note: I guess it's true, I am pretty good-looking.) If you see him on the streets introduce yourself, for he is really a quite enjoyable fellow.

___________________________________________________

You’ve been served by the (Ed. Note: second) best, My friend

Jack Eiel

The Man, The Myth, The Legend- Jeffrey J. Sobel

2009-03-15T00:10:00.000-04:00

With the blog reaching new heights, almost all verbal contact I have had with someone has had some mention of "Can you please give me a shout-out in your blog?" (I am talking to you, girls lacrosse team) I suspect this came about because of the Clay Packel shout-out, but one can never be sure. Anyway, all of this whoring for face time on my blog has even trickled down to the one place I never thought I would see it: my own house. After completing the last post about sweater vests (which I will get to later), I told my father, affectionately known as Jeff, about my new post. Keep in mind, it was rather late and I was not expecting him to get that much of a kick out of it (he is getting a little old and needs his shut-eye). He finished reading the blog and went straight upstairs. The next thing I knew he was downstairs again, only with a sweater vest on. I thought it was beyond my father to throw on a sweater vest to get on my blog, but apparently not. This situation was just too good for me not to blog about it. This brings me to letting you all know about your friend and my favorite, Jeffrey J. Sobel.

Jeff has many interesting facets about his life. The first are his trips to the grocery store. Instead of shopping like a normal person would do, he stocks up on maybe five items and brings them all home. This would be fine if he did not get the same five items each and every time. I sware he owns his own a monopoly on Chewy Bars and Barilla pasta. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the luscious taste of S'mores Chewy Bars as much as the next guy, but when your collection of Chewy Bars rivals the Terrific Tower of Tasty Tar, it is time to stop buying them. Maybe he is just being prepared for any type of national emergency that might force our family to survive off only Chewy Bars and the three packs of Poland Spring he bought last.

Jeff also has a somewhat respectable sense of style. After all, it was him who got me hooked on the sweater vests. I'll admit it myself that he does have an excellent selection of them up in his closet. His pathetic choice of shoes almost cancels out the positives of the sweater vest. Jeff owns many a pair of Merrills, which, if you aren't familiar with them, are maybe the ugliest shoes mankind has ever laid an eye on. It puts me to shame that my father actually puts these atrocious objects on his feet. Jeff is known as an American Boy Doll, mostly because I believe my mother fills out his closet for him. I firmly believe that my mother dresses him each and every morning and that he gets his clothes from Ken's wardrobe. Besides the sweater vest, almost everything he wears puts me to shame.

Another thing you will learn about Jeff is that he never smiles. When posing for a picture, he squints his eyes and slightly forces his lips to move, but not enough for it to qualify as a smile. Jeffrey J. does not even smile when he laughs. Instead, he decides to stick his tongue out, bob his head up and down, and make absolutely no noise whatsoever. Also, whenever someone is poking fun at him, Jeff asks "Are you dogging me?" This causes an extra amount of "dogging" for him for the use of that ridiculous word.

___________________________________________________

With the NCAA Tournament just around the corner, I would like to proclaim that March Madness has already begun. No, I do not mean Arch Madness, Missouri Valley Conference. I mean the Syracuse-Uconn game in the Big East Tournament's quarterfinal. You would probably have to be living in a cave not to hear about this six overtime game. I'll have all of you know that I stayed up for every last second of it, and that I have no idea why I did such a thing. Each overtime felt like Groundhog Day, each ending with me silently yelling about UConn's inability to win the overtime in which they held the lead the entire time. Finally, at around 1:30, Syracuse allowed me to get some much needed beauty sleep. This game came on the same day that my Villanova Wildcats beat Marquette on a buzzer-beating layup by the D.A., Dwayne Anderson, which I watched with my boy Fat Dub. Let's just say that our reaction rivaled this guy's.

___________________________________________________

I have a separate announcement that I would like all of you to know about before it happens. Once I reach my 500th reader (as of now I am at 300), I will let none other than Mr. Jack Eiel on here for a guest post. If you are not familiar with his work, Jack has twice been on Bill Simmons' mailbag, so I'm giving him an opportunity to write for the Soup Kitchen. We'll see how it goes, and maybe he will post again for the 1,500th and the 2,500th reader (if the blog ever gets there). I'm letting you know all of this because the blog could quite possibly go over the 500 mark before my next post, which would mean Jack would be writing, not me.

___________________________________________________

The first Sweater Vest Thursday was somewhat of a success, considering the insinuating circumstances in which it was announced under. There were two people, besides Jeffrey J., that I saw wearing them. As promised, a shout-out goes to Bennet Hickok, who I appropriately share my first name with (except for a different spelling).

Sweater Vest Spottings: 2 to date (2 last Thursday)

___________________________________________________

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Sweater Vest Thursday-Now Officially in Effect

2009-03-11T21:49:00.000-04:00

This may seem very out of the blue to all of you, but first I must explain myself with the background information. Sweater vests are possibly the greatest articles of clothing ever invented. I have done extensive research and it seems that the person who came up with this is not taking credit for their work. Maybe they wish to lead the life of a normal human being, which would of course be compromised by the popularity drawn from creating a world-wide sensation. I suppose the world will never know. Anyway, the reason these sweater vests are so popular is because they look exponentially better than a regular old sweater. It allows for creativity not only of the vest itself, but the shirt underneath. There are various styles: shirt tucked in, shirt untucked, collar inside the vest, or collar outside. One can also wear these with jeans and khakis interchangeably. My personal preference is a plain vest with a nice-looking shirt underneath. The collar is out and the shirt is tucked in. Jeans typically suffice the look, although I do go khakis from time to time. Sweater vests can be particularly useful for those men who sweat often, usually with a high perspiration concentration in the arm pit area. It can keep one warm in the chest area while letting the arms, and more importantly the pits, breath. This is useful for men who don't want to scare a lady off, but who still want to look dapper.

You may be wondering why this information is significant for the time being. Well Omar, who you probably know pretty well by now, Jake (formerly TBD), and the rest of the basketball team came to school dressed their best (except for he-who-shall-not-be-named in the Dickies). Omar began to mock me, saying "Sweater vest Tuesday: didn't last long did it???" Although this is a pathetic burn, and it is the extent of what Omar's brain capacity will allow him to make fun of me for, it did get my juices flowing. For about the whole first semester of school, I wore sweater vests. I deemed it Sweater Vest Tuesday. Now, I did not get much support in my quest for a sweater vest day. It seems my fellow colleagues were aware that they could not pull it off like me. No one wore it except for B-Hick (my bull). I kept it going for the whole first semester, but had to end it because of a lack of participation. These snide comments by Omar made me so motivated that I have decided to bring it back. That's right folks, it is now officially Sweater Vest Thursday. Even if you do not have a sweater vest and would like to participate, a sweater, underneath of which would be a collared shirt with the collar sticking out, would suffice. I will be implementing a sweater vest (or sweater-with-a-collar-sticking-out) counter at the bottom of each blog entry, starting with this one. However many I see, I will put that down there. In fact, the first person that I see wearing an actual sweater vest will get a personal shout-out at the bottom of the blog. Now, I doubt I get a big turn-out tomorrow, considering it is nearing 10:30 on the east coast (for that one viewer in Santa Clarita, California, I know you are out there) and approaching bedtime. I will still wear the sweater vest and will be expecting a big output of participation of sweater-wearing next week. Even if you do not go to my school, a sweater vest is a wonderful way to meet new people and eat Big Macs with the ladies. So please, to my viewers everywhere, please do a good thing for humanity, and spread the use of sweater vests.

___________________________________________________

Sweater Vest Spottings: 0 to date

___________________________________________________

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Death of The Big Deegy

2009-03-07T01:16:00.000-05:00

Just as a prologue to this post, I would just like to inform you all that I am quite surprised about all the attention this blog is receiving. While 99 visits might seem modest to you, it is quite the accomplishment to Me, Myself, and Irene (aka one of the greatest movies of all time). This also brings along the trouble that publicity always does, especially dealing with zealous young men who want to get their names in a blog. One such fellow goes by the name of Clay Packel. I could tell you many stories about him if this were not a such a family-friendly blog. Anyway, there is your shout-out, Clay. I hope you liked it.

All of that being said, this is a sad day not only for me, but for all of mankind. No, a world war has not been started nor has the making of sweater vests ceased to exist. No, good followers of my blog, The Big Deegy has died the good death. Of course I am not actually saying that someone died. An entity, a way of life, instead, has passed on. On Facebook, TBD was the namesake of a particular gentleman I may have mentioned as "Snake" in a previous post. A glorious man ahead of his time, he signed up for Facebook, and The Big Deegy would live on in infamy for nearly 3 years. For those of you not familiar with TBD, he was a man of many passions. Being pure, wearing a nice pair of slacks, and just being a straight up baller were some of them. To go along with all of that, he probably has the wettest jump shot this side of Mark Titus. While you may think "Oh, it is just a really cool name that only the likes of a brilliant young man could think of," you are not getting the full gist of what I am trying to tell you here. The Big Deegy was just a name, but Jake Enterlin made it a person. He was The Big Deegy. This is not to say he didn't hit a few rough spots along the way. The Big lost his confidence, a plight even the greatest men go through. He changed his name to the boring old Jake Enterlin. A month or two went by, and things just were not the same. He couldn't pull off those nice pair of corduroys the way he used to. The normal name turned a unique man into a plain person. He had no style, no personality, even his humor was gone. This is when he knew he had to make the change. He tried and he tried, but Facebook apparently thought The Big was no longer a name. This is when he changed it to T.B. A hybrid form of The Big Deegy had now taken effect. He was not just The Big Deegy anymore; he was new and improved. Instead of just wearing a nice pair of slacks, he began dressing in one solid color. Besides that, T.B. brought hyphy into the lives of many. His explanation, he just wanted to "Get Silly." Bottom line, T.B. put joy in the hearts of all those who encountered him, all the while wreaking havoc on Facebook users all over the world. The time has come for T.B. to change his name back to Jake Enterlin. He says that all good things must come to an end. While I personally disagree with the decision, it is something that has to happen eventually. If the time is now for T.B., then he should change it as he pleases. So there it is, the death of The Big Deegy. But just so you all know, TBD will live on forever, in the hearts and minds of all those who came into contact with this inspirational figure.

I would just like to mention, as well, my despise for Duke and especially Jon Scheyer. If you have been living in a cave for the last couple years, or if you aren't that big of a college basketball fan, you wouldn't know about the Scheyer Face. As goofy as he normally looks, he looks like just about the oddest person you will ever see when he puts on the Scheyer Face. I know I will get love in the comments section from my good friend Fat Dub, especially for these hurtful comments on his beloved Duke.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

The Curious Case of Omar Randall

2009-03-04T23:24:00.000-05:00

For those of you that are not familiar with Omar Randall, he is a mysterious young man. First, to set the stage for you all, Omar and I are almost brothers. We are tight. Come to think of it, we kind of resemble these guys, except for that whole love thing. Its kind of the opposite with me and Omar. Our friendship is fueled by our rivalry with each other. I only ridicule him and share stories about him to the world because I want to stir the pot a bit. So, Omar, while I do know that you read the blog, please don't gossip about me for this.

The first thing you will learn about Omar, probably before you even learn his name, is that he is always chewing gum. I've been in his house, and he actually has a cupboard shelf full of packs of gum. I'm going to be completely honest when I say that the sight of the Terrific Tower of Tasty Tar will blow your mind. Its not even that Omar chews the gum for that long. Its the fact that he has more gum than Stride does surplus that allows him to wear out his jaw bone more than the bachelor does the word "amazing." I've always waited for Omar to go through something like this, but its yet to happen.

After spending a small amount of time with Omar, chances are he will come up with a nickname for you. He has an uncanny ability to deliver just the right name at just the right time. He has named himself O-Star Superstar, along with the countless other names he has created. Now, anyone can come up with a new nickname, but one has to know how to get it out in public. That's where Omar's gossiping abilities come into play. He is probably the world's greatest verbal marketer. In less than two weeks, he implemented the name Cran for a kind sir. According to him, he made Cran "go global." Only the superstar...

I have to share one more story with you about Omar. Along with making up nicknames and spreading gossip, Omar's last specialty is making up ridiculous stories and sticking to them. The best example of this is the Wawa story. Omar, a friend named Downs, and I were at my house. Downs and I locked him out of the garage and Omar left. He was gone for 15 minutes when he finally came back. Downs and I asked him where he had been and he said he walked to Wawa. Now, I'm hoping none of you actually know the distance between my house and the Wawa or else I may need to look into a little thing I like to call a restraining order. For those of you that aren't stalkers/my friends who know the town of Wallingford, the Wawa is about 5-10 minutes driving from my house. Omar said he got there and back, so we asked him what he bought. He pulled out an iced tea bottle and a pack of gum. You already know about the pack of gum, so that offered nothing to us. The iced tea bottle, however, was capless and completely infested with ants. There were more bugs in there than in this popular Disney motion picture. Omar claimed to have dropped it. Then he pulled out the gum package and inserted the last piece into his mouth. I know what you're thinking: he chews gum like a madman. Not even the superstar could chew that amount of gum in that small amount of time. Downs and I, super sleuths that we were, figured that this was impossible. While Omar has since admitted his guilt, he has never, ever offered an alibi. This just adds to the mystery of the Superstar. If I could get three questions of mine answered, I would ask what Omar was doing that night along with the plot of Lost and why Weapon-X left for Denver (yes, I realize that is the second time this post, it's called publicity).

On a side note that has absolutely nothing to do with what I have previously said, I am looking to do a prank, maybe involving the readers of this blog or possibly having to do with Facebook. Any suggestions would be gladly accepted and thought over.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup

Welcome to the Soup Kitchen Blog

2009-03-01T22:40:00.000-05:00

Although I have no idea how you came across reading this, you are already through one sentence, so you might as well just keep going.

Why, may you ask, would a place of imagination be called by such an exquisite name? The answer is somewhat long and complicated. I'll start off by saying that I am the Sobel Soup. I attained that name from my friends, who should simply go by the names of O-star and Snake for now. These two gentlemen saw a class project that I did in the fourth grade. It was a newspaper, entitled the Sobel Scoop. Somehow, these two young lads misread the name Scoop and took it as Soup. The name stuck. I named my blog the Soup Kitchen so I can "dish out" killer lines like "You just got served" and well, you just got served is about the only killer line that I can think of right now. Others will surely come along the way.

You are probably wondering (as am i) as to what this blog will pertain to. I am here simply to act as a Soup Kitchen of your everyday life. If you are not aware of the history, soup kitchens came to existence predominantly in the Great Depression to assist the poor. Now, I'm not here to give you a history lesson (although I must say I am a self-proclaimed history buff). The purpose of this blog is to assist you in getting through everyday life. Whether it be venting about sports, laughing at a loser kid who makes a blog that nobody reads or just providing sheer entertainment, I am your man. I won't get into many specifics on this post, I mean after all it is only the first one.

Ok, I just lied to you. I am going to get into one specific this post, but only because it is clearly pressing on the minds of every good-natured Philadelphian this morning. Yes, that's right. I am talking about Weapon X, Brian Dawkins. He has officially left for the Denver Broncos after spending 13 years as a Philadelphia Eagle. For those of you that are not from the Greater Philadelphia area, first of all I have no idea why you are reading this. Secondly, you may say "Yeah he was a 7-time Pro-Bowler, and he was probably the greatest safety ever to play the game. Not only that but he is a fatherly figure to look up to who looks completely B.A. in his dark visor." To that I would say you are absolutely correct. But you still don't get all of it. Brian Dawkins was the heart and soul of not only the Eagles, but of Philadelphia. I would legitimately make babies with the man. He will always be missed and will always have a home in Philadelphia.

Always Serving,

Sobel Soup