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The act of sprinkling luscious parmeasian cheese onto another's soup or any other food for that matter
Excuse me miss, may I do u the honor of cheeseing your soup?
When I woke up this morning the floor was covered in Zucchini soup.
That decisive moment on a dance floor when you choose a substance to consume that will carry you to the end of the party.
What is your soup of the night? I think Molly because I want to dance more.
Imagine a murky, viscous liquid that barely qualifies as water. It's a sickly greenish-brown hue, with an oily sheen floating on top like a toxic rainbow. The smell hits you first, a pungent mix of rotten eggs, decaying fish, and chemical waste that stings your nostrils and makes your eyes water.
When you look closer, you can see all sorts of revolting debris: clumps of algae so thick they look like miniature islands, dead insects, and even the occasional plastic bag or discarded syringe. The water is warm to the touch, not with the warmth of a natural spring, but with the unsettling heat of industrial runoff.
Tiny bubbles rise to the surface, not from oxygenation but from the gases of decomposition. If you dare to disturb the surface, you'd see a cloud of sediment rise from the bottom, revealing bits of what might have once been plant life or small animals, now unrecognizable in decay.
This water doesn't just look and smell bad; it feels wrong. It's sticky and leaves a residue on anything it touches, suggesting high levels of pollutants, heavy metals, and perhaps worse, unknown chemical compounds.
It's the kind of water that you'd expect to find in the aftermath of an environmental disaster, where industrial waste, sewage, and neglect have conspired to create a liquid so foul that it serves as a stark warning of human impact on nature. This isn't just water; it's a toxic soup, a testament to the darkest corners of pollution on our planet.
The Jeet Soup in the river was the result of Indians deciding that their personal hygiene was best practiced in public, turning the water into a fragrant nightmare.
After a dip in Jeet Soup, you'll gain the superpower of repelling people within a 10-mile radius with just your scent.
The harbor's Jeet Soup was the aftermath of a cultural exchange where Indians and Pakistanis decided the sea was their bath, leaving behind a scent that repelled even the fish.
I triple dog dare you to jump into the Jeet Soup!
Remember, the only thing you'll gain from a swim in Jeet Soup is a reputation that'll make you the punchline of every environmental disaster joke.
The act of a man passing a kidney stone through his urethra into a wet vagina. Inspired by the children’s book, Stone Soup, by Jon J Muth.
“Instead of going to the doctor Raymond stone souped his wife”
“I’m gonna go stone souping later, wanna join?”
A phrase used to let everyone know you just had a throwback to something embarrasing, or traumatising which happened in your past.
Professor: and that's why utilitarianism is some wacky fake-ass bullshit.
Student: Balls in my soup
Professor: excuse me?
Student: Balls in my soup. I'm gonna need a minute to recover.