My lovely husband brought me out on the town last weekend. We headed to the local pub for some nachos. If you've been to this particular pub, you'll know the ambiance is seriously lacking. They have those BIG screen TVs hooked up on every wall, and you can't help but stare at the screen rather than at your date. Not romantic. Worse yet, they had decided to leave it on the Discovery Channel where a fascinating documentary on moles was playing. I kid you not, this is the tame version of what was playing:
Actually, it was on a big screen, up close and personal (the mole's head was filling the screen) and that night-crawler was putting up a fight. It was all slurp, slurp, wiggle, thrash, gnash, gulp.
I'm so glad I didn't order the spaghetti.