Sunday's drive up your blog… with Ramblin' Rooster

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Italian Food and Surgery Shows

with 6 comments

You don’t know this, (and honestly she doesn’t either) but my wife hates me. I like to believe that it’s on a subconscious-subconscious level, (like super-subconscious) but I can’t tell without an autopsy, (which she’s totally against by the way). Oh no, her choice of programming is starting to effect me, but it’s not her fault, she’s only watching television. I’ve said it before, the wife loves crime-surgery-murder-investigation-forensic-makeover-shows and really who can blame her.


I couldn’t care myself. I’m usually reading or I’m on the computer or whatever, so what she’s watching isn’t really a concern of mine. So how is it that she can still seem to torture me with her viewing habits?


It’s simple; she turns on the really sickening shows every time we eat Italian food. I think you can agree with me that Italian food is best eaten in a room free from reference to anything even remotely disgusting from the inner body. Blood, guts, tissue and fat are things you really can’t see while eating spaghetti or something.


I suppose all food is better without the gore and horror of surgery, but Italian food has the most likeness to the insides of humans. Marinara sauce, cheese and watching someone having their 100 pound “apron” cut off or some lady getting liposuction just don’t mix. You can try and hide your eyes, but once you’ve seen it, there’s no getting it out of your mind, (or the idea out of your mouth).


Someone out there in the blog reading world is saying, “None of this would matter if we’d just become a little more civilized and eat at the table.” Perhaps turn off the television and invite the kids? Sit at the table and talk to each other, (between mouthfuls of course)?


You’re right, that would greatly reduce the risk of me vomiting, but on the other hand if I did that, then I will lose my alibi for the reason of why I threw up. “No honey, I love your cooking, it was the sound of the vacuum sucking up the fat that pushed me over the edge.”


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster


Written by Ramblin' Rooster

March 29, 2009 at 5:48 am

6 Responses

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  1. This maybe the reason why it’s an insult to most Italians to be served catsup.
    But I wonder why your wife seems glad to torture you?!
    Roost on!


    March 29, 2009 at 6:32 am

    • pochp, I’ve never understood the difference between ketchup and catsup or why Italian’s hate both of them. My wife isn’t glad to torture me, she thinks that it’s “my problem”, because who in their right mind would be bothered by surgery and eating. Crazy. Thanks for commenting.

      Ramblin' Rooster

      March 30, 2009 at 3:00 am

  2. We’ve got to eat pasta at the table, because it makes such a mess of the chairs and couch if we (inevitably) spill any


    March 29, 2009 at 8:06 am

    • travelrat, have you tried eating on plastic? Maybe the floor? I elected to put the television in the middle of the table, but got shot down. Thanks for commenting and I bet your chairs and couch are lovely.

      Ramblin' Rooster

      March 30, 2009 at 3:01 am

  3. I learned a valuable lesson from this post. Always eat with a bottle of pepto nearby,


    March 29, 2009 at 6:38 pm

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