'Traitors' and the simultaneous orgasm

While devouring the eight chapters of that fantastic

halfway between a weekend in a rural house, an Agatha Christie novel and

that is

(HBO Max), in addition to suffering for every adversity to which my friend Juan Sanguino faces —I write again from a friend and with the possessive as Isabel Pantoja would say, excuse me—, prostrate myself at the feet of Leo Margets' perspicacity and reconsider the eternal debate “underwear under pajamas, yes? or not?"

Thanks to Abril Zamora, I thought a lot about Telecinco.

In the funeral home, it is rude to discuss how the dead person should have been saved, but death on television can return, so it is

providing solutions to the dethronement of Telecinco.

It is not difficult to conclude that a programming as interwoven as that of the friendly chain lacks new characters with which to feed those transversal plots from which all its programs drink, and that the best way to incorporate them is through good reality

.

Mine is not interested in the first-born of Mediaset recovering the audience leadership, it is rather a love for general television.

A

on the platform, no matter how good it is, and

is, is dazzled by the lack of simultaneity in the broadcast.

Anyone's transition to sexual maturity involves assuming firsthand that simultaneous orgasm does not contribute anything and that perhaps the only one to preserve is the one you feel, as Woody Allen said in Husbands and Wives, when the judge gives you

divorce .

But oh on TV.

TV is everything at once everywhere and it is much more joyful to arrive at the same time.

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