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.
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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.
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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)
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Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Ladies... Meet the Sobel Soup
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.
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Sweater Vest Spottings: 43 (41 Last Thursday)
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Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
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.
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Sweater Vest Spottings: 43 (41 Last Thursday)
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Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
Friday, March 20, 2009
Bandleaders, Manleaders, and Sweater Vests- My Trip to the NCAA's
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.
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Sweater Vest Spottings: 43 (41 Last Thursday)
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Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
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.
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Sweater Vest Spottings: 43 (41 Last Thursday)
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Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Mr. Jack Eiel's First Guest Appearance
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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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You’ve been served by the (Ed. Note: second) best, My friend
Jack Eiel
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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
Sunday, March 15, 2009
The Man, The Myth, The Legend- Jeffrey J. Sobel
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.
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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.
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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.
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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)
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Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
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)
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Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Sweater Vest Thursday-Now Officially in Effect
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.
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Sweater Vest Spottings: 0 to date
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Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
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.
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Sweater Vest Spottings: 0 to date
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Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
Saturday, March 7, 2009
The Death of The Big Deegy
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
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
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Curious Case of Omar Randall
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
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
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Welcome to the Soup Kitchen Blog
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
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
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