Couch Potato

I don't own a TV. Not one that works at least. I realise this is quite a shocking statement in this day and age, but it's a mere matter of self preservation. Whenever I am faced with a TV screen, I turn into a drooling catatonic. It's not an appealing sight, I can assure you.


What worries me is the indiscriminate nature of this behaviour. Whether it's Panorama, Oprah or the shopping channel, I simply get suckered in. Total addiction. I dread to think how many months of my life I have wasted on staring at an electrontube.

To try and regain control, I decided to bin the TV when I moved into my new flat. It's been 6 months now since I had regular access to the tube, and I am increasingly left out of lunchtime conversations at work. I have no fucking clue what Phaedra Hoste is doing with her life, but it seems to help others live vicariously, because it's all the lunchtime talk. Do people really care? Or is it the easiest way to spend their evening?

Good riddance, I'm thinking. My girrel and I just ordered 20-odd books on Amazon on topics we've always wanted to read about but never had time to, a pair of warm sofa-socks, a couple of DVD-documentaries and films, and a proviand of Green & Black's Chocolate Milk. Since the TV left my existence, I've regained some control over my time. My mind is a lot less restless and there's arguably less crap in it.

The only downside is that the effect of the tube on my behaviour seems to have increased disproportionately. Whenever I find myself near a TV, be it in a pub, or at the parental home, catatonia sets in within nanoseconds, excessive drooling not far behind.

So do me a favor. Next time I come around yours, please leave me my dignity and switch off your TV? Much appreciated.