Hobos rock. They're like homeless guys you can feel good about.

Someone recently sent me a link to Hobo Soup suggesting it as a possible Steve, Don't Eat It -- which actually wouldn't work out that well because I have since tried the soup and it tastes great.

But right now, we really need to talk about the can...

Would you look at this can? LOOK AT IT! It's beautiful. It's magnificent. It's tickling my balls as I type. Forget about the soup, I want to eat the can. Whoever designed it should be in charge of designing everything, everywhere.

It's like a Wacky Packages sticker, except it's the actual product. (I'm pretty sure if you tried to create a Wacky Pack for this soup, the universe would implode.)

They sell the soup on the site by the case of 24 for $50, which might be a little more soup than you'd be interested in. (Especially if you're an actual hobo.) But that's what brings us to the Hobo Soup T-shirt.

I haven't decided for sure yet, but I might need to be buried in this shirt. And it was only $16.50, including delivery!

Jim at Hobo Soup was very nice on the phone, but I think he runs a very small operation. (In my mind, he's the guy on the can, but I'm an idiot.) He was pleasantly old school, had never heard of PayPal and I don't think he takes credit cards either. I'm not even positive email makes it there, so my advice is to make it easy on everyone and just blast out a check in the mail to the address on the site. (If you do speak to Jim, please be extra nice. That's how we roll at The Sneeze.)

Finally, here's the Hobo Soup story from the can:

Hobo Soup was "born" in the restless, creative mind of Lem Kaercher, a small-town newspaper publisher from Ortonville, Minn. In 1953, Lem went into the "Jungles" of Ortonville in search of a feature story on Mr. Hobo, long an American legend. At conclusion of his visit, Lem was treated with some old-fashioned original, homemade Hobo Soup. A Hobo himself as a young man, Lem felt the world should share in this fine cuisine. For years, a proper Canner was sought, and finally in 1960, Lem and son, Jim, finally saw a dream come true... Hobo Soup on the Grocer's shelf - "A Jungle Recipe, Fit For A King!"

Let's keep the dream alive. The official Hobo Soup website is right here.