I saw Adam Carolla's face in my soup as I was cooking it. Somehow it was his actual face, not a Christ-like image. He mouthed some words, and I didn't need to be a lip-reader at that moment. I placed the lid back on the pot and observed him through the transparent glass. His face became like wet paper and gradually dissolved while exhibiting agonies. There was some hair involved as well, which rendered the soup inedible. The toilet got a good slap-up meal, and I ordered a takeaway again.