Chicken Noodle Soup for the Stomach.” I wrote it with alphabet soup, and then edited it with a can of chicken noodle soup.

I eat fog soup (out of a can). You don’t think I make it fresh, do you? You don’t need a spoon or straw to enjoy it—you need a pipe to inhale it.

I skimmed the pond scum with a spoon like broth in a soup bowl. Why does everything have to remind me of her?

Kennedy cooked the soup that Johnson had to eat.

Soup has water value, but water doesn’t have soup value. That’s like my love—really watery, but rather tasty.

Try my all-you-can-eat vomit soup. Sadly, people don’t want seconds, because they don’t even want firsts. But it tastes great. I tasted it on the way down—and then again on the way up.

There are whiskers in my soup, and my spoon smells like my cat’s ass.

Curiosity is a good thing, like onion soup. But too much onion soup makes your breath smell terrible. And too much curiosity can make your whole body smell terrible, if it causes you to be...

I have developed a flavorless soup that’s indistinguishable from hot water. It’s the first soup to taste great frozen. Would you like some to go, in a thermos?

If love had its limits, and those limits tasted like lasagna, could you see yourself dating a can of chicken noodle soup? I only ask because I’m in the mood to spoon. After all, I...

Microwavable ice cream is the future. Don’t wait for love to melt all over your crotch. Scoop some Ice Cream Soup today.

I never feel more useful than when I’m making my kids a bowl of soup.

Did you know you can drink food? It’s true! It’s called soup, and I eat it with a fork. I’m as efficient as the government.

Alphabet soup is my magic eight ball. Served hot or cold, words are delicious.

She asked for soup, and I served her cereal. Our love was in the breakfast stage.

A coffin with wheels would make a great shopping cart. I’ll bet a hollowed-out body would hold a lot of soup.

One bachelor is an irritation. Ten thousand bachelors are a war.

If you don’t explain it all to me, I might strangle somebody.” Of course, Raphael might like that…

If a cook can’t make soup between two and seven, she can’t make it in a week.

There should be a soup spoon on the end of fire truck ladders, because fires do nothing if they don’t warm up leftovers.

Rivers don’t drink their own waters; trees don’t eat their own fruits. The salt seasons the soup in order to have its purpose fulfilled. Live for others!

Yeah. I’m the fly in the soup. I don’t like it any better than you do. Flies don’t like being swamped in soup, especially when it’s hot.

That’s one thing I get neurotic about: I need my soup to be crazy hot.

There must be some kind of internal time distortion effect in here, because when I look at myself in the little mirror above my sink, what I see is my father’s face, my face turning...

An upside down umbrella is a soup bowl. The next time it’s raining dinner, I’ll be there, and I’ll bring an extra spoon for you.

Birthday Soup is good to eat, but not as good as Birthday Cake.

But since soup mainly involves tossing everything in a pot and waiting, it’s one of my better dishes.

I found a hair in my Campbell’s soup, and I’d love to talk to them about advancement opportunities for bald people. My love is as bald as an eagle, only not symbolic of the largest...

I eat overcast skies for breakfast, because sunlight isn’t filling enough. As a lover, I’m a bring-my-own-umbrella kind of guy, because a soup bowl doesn’t offer enough space or protection.

I have a “Waiter, there’s a hair in my soup” dance. It involves platform shoes, a mustache, and a hair net.

I loved her like I needed her. I soaked her up like a soup bowl made of bread. I’m hungry for her even as I write this now. Somebody get me a spoon!

Mrs Guinea answered my letter and invited me to lunch at her home. That was where I saw my first finger-bowl.The water had a few cherry blossoms floating in it, and I thought it must...

To let her imagine how great a lover I’d be, I ate soup with chopsticks. She went home with another man, but I’ll bet she fantasized about me.

It was raining, so I handed her a spoon. If God had wanted man to stay dry, He wouldn’t have invented soup.

Do you want some fresh tomato soup to go? I’ll put it in a mesh strainer. Oh, if only love were as easy to contain as soup in a strainer.

Hungry and thirsty? Soup solves both problems at once. My love for you is starved and dehydrated, and all I need is one spoon.

Writing is a lot like making soup. My subconscious cooks the idea, but I have to sit down at the computer to pour it out.

“Gladys, bring me some more damn soup.” Well, maybe he wasn’t talking to me, but it was still good to hear he was a romantic.

Have some Itch Soup. I made it from scratch. It tastes like beef jerky, minus the beef. It has all the flavor of starts and stops.

To get more liquids in my diet, I’ve started eating more soup and cereal. Anything that’s watered down, including my relationship.

Noise soup. I just made it. Taste it with your ears.

Though my skull is the size of a soup bowl, everything in the universe—and more—can fit inside my imagination. And guess what? My imagination tastes like chicken noodle soup.

I just made some ice cream soup—for winter, or the next time you visit Antarctica. It’s freezable and reheatable, like my love.

I would eat my soup in silence, but it’s alphabet soup. They’re all capital letters and they are shouting at me. I’m not anorexic or illiterate, so alphabet soup is like a nourishing novel. An...

I drink coffee with a spoon. It’s like soup, only less sleepy.

Everything I learned in school, mixed together with water and chicken broth, isn’t worth the soup served at a soup kitchen. I was a bring-my-own-spoon kind of student.

I am the broth of love. Make soup to me.

When you have a good stock, you can make a good soup.