The process of making soup can be extremely tedious. Every element of each step is no more important than the other, therefore being equally annoying overall. The flavor produced can set you into a euphoric state, sliding across your palate like a slimy oyster and awakening every taste bud from a long, winter slumber. The saltiness of the base, the finely cut mire poix (which, by the way, is a pain in the outer portion of my asshole), the al dente noodles, the boiling over on top of the stock pot that looks like shaving leftovers from a very, very hairy man, and a color always comparable to bowel movement extracts and alcoholic stomach failure excretions. Do I like soup you ask? Try tasting the same soup 47 times over a one hour period, four hours total, equaling 188 times in a day, 4 times a week for 2 weeks, and tell me that you'd want to swim in it's contents like it's a heavenly pool of Guiness beer.

Taste testing, assuringly making your palatte slump, is essential. Flavor must be correct, and, like I said before, must be tested multiple times. Imagine hunting deer for 10 seasons in a row with no luck. On the 11th year, you finally nab that bastard, a 10-pointer at that. You're ecstatic, excited, relieved you finally succeeded after 10 years of thorough disappointment. You may return home, skin the damn thing down to it's REAL birthday suit in your living room and get the most you can out of your reward. You may use the skin to walk around in, naked underneath and eating small, furry animals to feel "at one" with spirit of the "Deer-siah." All of a sudden you're in the hospital, Dr. Spaceman asking you what it's like to be a deer and how he can join your cult of animal personalities. You reveal the true side of this delusional doctor to another doctor by the name of Dr. Savefur, thinking that he will be able to help you. He ends up recommending you to a mental therapist who specializes in "animal idolizers." You find yourself confessing feelings of fear when winter time arrives, awareness of leaving your tracks in the snow, the blinding stage fright of the color orange, the annoyance of not having a clearance for your antlers when walking through small tunnels, the desire to, although taboo, to try venison, just to see what you taste like and what all the hype is about, and the detestation to be mounted on a wall to only stare at all the morons admiring your ugly mug for the rest of your after life.

Your attention to detail on the traits of a deer and your ability to explain it in an intelligent manner leads the government to believe that you're a species of "smart deer." You get fame and fortune, marry a beautiful young swamp raised alligator, and live in an outhouse in Australia. You get into gambling, find yourself in major debt to a guy they call the "Gamblorine Man", lose your hot wife, and end up in Applebee's as the night porter, occassionally recognized as a 15 minute animal washed up celebrity.

Now, sampling soup to taste is a similar road. You taste test forever, told you're crazy for thinking it's perfect, then commended on the flavor the next day when the contents have had a chance to develop. You're then praised with chef's awards and sexually driven comments from waitresses and busboys, soaking it all in as a diaper does to baby movements. Then you start to burn out, mainly by the phrase "It's soupy!" which you unfortunately trademarked. Tired of being referred to as "The Soupinator", the frustration only continues at home when you're wife keeps trying to mimick your great creation and constantly asks, "Taste this, see if it's bad." She could simply ask for the recipe, but doesn't have that part of her brain developed yet. You become content to find out you have a fellow competitor, who everyone calls 'Clam Soupocinco" who talks shit about your soup game and wants to challenge you with his new soup fusion called "SouperBowlFowelBowel." You let him reign victorious and live the rest of your life alone, overjoyed by the non-profit organization that you started called "Salad Alone!", which specializes in educating people that soup does not always have to go with salad.

So now tell me, is it worth it?