Operation: Soup. (Originally Published March 17, 2011)

As I’m sure you have noticed from the time between blogisodes Mitch is still battling that stupid case of writers block. I honestly think I’m battling a case of winter depression. I’m bored as hell, listless, and can’t seem to flush out any funny ideas for a whole blogisode. The worst part is when someone asks you what’s new and you sourcreamliterally have nothing new you could even fake interesting with “Uhhh….I got a new no fat sour cream that tastes surprisingly like regular sour cream?” You know things are not going your way when you are turning declarative statements about your life into questions. Oh, god my life sucks…

Here are some potential topics that I thought about writing about but couldn’t get them off the runway and just abandoned them altogether: 

-Why pregnant women and midgets totally gross me out.

-Little Mitch’s recent fascination with making his butt hole talk.

-The lamest superpower ever: Mitch’s innate ability to recognize an asian woman from behind merely by her walking gait; and how and If I could use this ability to realistically fight crime. 

So, to battle the rut Mitch has fallen into I have decided it’s time to inject some new life into my social circle. It was during a particularly long cold snap that this occurred to Mitch. Due to the cold snap I couldn’t do my regular lunch time run. Okay I really don’t run thanks to the genetic gift of flat feet I was blessed with, I really just exercise walk. But telling people you are going for an “exercise walk” conjures up images of senior citizens wearing pastel track suits, bright white orthopaedic walking shoes, and swinging their arms high up by their chest as part of a morning mall walk club as they bitch about the state of health care. Instead I tell people I “run.”


Back to the original point, due to the cold spell I took a couple days off and spent my lunch in our break room at work. That particular day my usual work friends were not present due to illness, family care, and vacations. So I decided to listen to the rousing intellectually stimulating conversation of my other coworkers. 

They talked about soup.

That conversation lasted three days.

After the third day I promised myself two things. One, I’m avoiding spending time in the soul decaying break room at work as much as I possibly can in the future. Two, I need to expand my social circle. So “Operation Soup” was born. I immediately enrolled in a marathon walking class to meet some new people with the same hobby as me. My original intention was to enrol in a German language class based solely on the fact that while lintroducing Indiana Jones movies to Little Mitch (probably not the most culturally sensitive and accurate portrayal of our Bavarian brethren, I know) I thought “German sounds so damn cool, I must learn it.” So I enrolled in a Spanish class because there are no German classes in my hometown and really its not about the language but an opportunity to meet some new people. 

Maybe once I get some Spanish under my belt that Latin soap opera on late night cable with all the nudity will make some sense. “What’s going on? As far as I can tell he was delivering files of some sort to her, he offended her, she slapped him, then tried to stab him with a stapler but their hot blooded latino passions boiled over then they started going at it, but I am really not understanding why the midget clown who resembles Geraldo Rivera is there with that bowl of pudding.” 

Even today the need to expand my social circle has forced me to do something I promised myself I would never do. I took the laptop and went to Starbucks to do some writing. Just to get out of the house to be around some new people. Yes I’m the laptop pseudo writer wannabe douche at the coffee shop. And just so it can be just that little extra bit douchier, I own a Mac.

Often times, when I tell people about “Operation Soup” they respond “well you’re married, shouldn’t your wife be enough for you?” No. In fact I think its entirely ridiculous to put that amount of expectation on one person. We have been together for sixteen years, there is literally no topic, subject, or matter we have not talked about. No, don’t get me wrong it’s not like I don’t enjoy spending time with my wife. Shes gorgeous, sexy, feisty, and can hold her own with my over abundance of “Mitch-ness.” I love our date nights we always laugh and have a fantastic time. It’s just that my social circle has grown stagnant and a little dull as of late. I want new people to shoot the breeze with, a new perspective, a new point of view, a new comedic sensibility. Just to breathe some new life into the rut I’ve fallen into. 

The blog does fulfill my need to get things off my chest but it is a rather one sided conversation with me just yapping at you my faithful readers, unless some of you actually emailed me a “hello” once in a while, I’m just saying, would be nice. Big Hint Alert! (Yes that is a passive aggressive tone you’re getting). In the ten months since I got Mitch Being Honest off the ground the only person who emailed me was some A-hole who wanted me to link to his site and advertise his site on my website for his luxury six figure import car business. Hmmm, let me see advertise your site using the website I spent hours upon hours creating using the webspace that I am paying for on my own dime? Second, I really don’t think my readers are the proper target demographic for luxury imported exotic cars. Third, if you can afford to import luxury exotic cars you can afford your own damn website. Unless you’re an adult pornography website and are offering some sort of corporate sponsorship with loads of free swag, I’m totally listening. Mitch can be bought. 

No need to thank me, I’m an idea man. It’s what I do. 

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