I hate that.

Yesterday, at night, I was eating some Chinese noodles with beef and gai lan (one of those Chinese vegetables). Covered in a rather viscuous sauce, I microwaved my dinner on a wide plate. I waited for about two minutes, popped it out, and quickly tottered to the glass living room table. Can't miss the 2006 World Series of Poker, can I? And then, as I chomped and slurped down the heavenly food, the TV screen turned to a commercial on erectile disfunction.

Genital discharges. Urinal baggage. Call your doctor.

I stopped eating.

I hate that.