Crunchy soup.
Stir a little harder. That's the stuff. Put some elbow-grease in it. No, goddamnit, not for real! That's just an expression! It means.... oh, mother of pearl. Oh, hello, cyber-surfers. You find us in one of life's most humble pursuits: making a substandard dinner. That's the kind we like here at the Cheney Hammer Mill - far preferable to no dinner at all. In case you hadn't guessed, soup is on the menu this evening, and inasmuch as we cannot afford that ultra- haut cuisine canned stuff you probably enjoy, your stalwart friends in Big Green are making it from scratch. And when I say scratch, that's no euphemism. As I mentioned before, elbow grease is a euphemism, and one that should never be an ingredient in home made soup. Though, sadly, it is now part of ours. Another reason why it's best not to have Marvin (my personal robot assistant) help with such tasks. (He just had his elbows re-greased, as it happens.) But hey - if you were thinking of dropping b...