Smiter’s Law, No. 787: suppertime TV

This is the law that states that, when one is eating in front of the TV, there will always be a commercial playing when one finally sits down, plate in hand, in front of one’s favourite show.

TV: Dinner companion to the stars.

Subsection a) of this law states that when the show finally resumes and one is tucking into a particularly delectable morsel, that’s when they’ll air the really gross closeup of the bullet splatting through the internal organs, or the shots of road-kill on a hot day, suppurating buboes, festering battle wounds, or (if you’re a Family Guy fan), one of those long sequences where Peter vomits and vomits and vomits.

Clearly I need to start watching Treehouse TV or something. Even “Little House on the Prairie” shows me no mercy, peppering me with ads for stair lifts or shots of Doc Baker splinting a mangled arm.

Oh, and before you send me an email telling me how unhealthy it is to eat in front of the TV, let me tell you what I had for dinner the other night (while watching The Office): felafels with a nice low-fat yogurt and curry sauce; a fresh cob of corn; and a nice green salad with sliced mushrooms, diced peppers, Campari tomatoes, avocadoes, cucumbers and shredded carrots, with a nice virgin olive oil and balsamic dressing I made myself. Nyaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

I could swear, Gil Grissom was drooling as he hefted that dead guy’s liver into the scales.


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