I typically keep the TV on mute as I work.

I guess it’s just for company since I’m not in an office setting anymore and to have handy access to the Wii when I’m at a lull since I’m trying to improve my fitness and overall well-being.

It also comes in handy for watching breaking news and March Madness.

The thing I’ve noticed most about television is there are a lot of ads hawking fast food fish sandwiches, none of which look in the least bit appetizing.

Wendy’s is promoting them, Hardee’s is promoting them and McDonald’s is promoting some really grotesque thing called Fish McBites, rolled up pieces of fish meat that appear to be deep battered in mystery gunk and placed in a French fry box.

I’ve never been a fan of seafood. Some folks go nuts over seafood like some folks go nuts over guns.

I’ve tried about every seafood item there is except for oysters and I have no desire to try something that looks like stuff a flu-ridden person blew into their sweater sleeve or handkerchief.

Sushi is a menace; shrimp look like cockroaches of the sea and scallops just look like the same stuff a sick person blew into their sleeve.

In my experiment with seafood about the only thing I like is grilled salmon or tuna steak. Other than that, spare me an invitation to your next oyster-shucking party because I’ll just lie and say I’m sick, blowing oyster and scallop mucous into my sweater sleeve.

That brings me to the point of today’s column — why, would anyone think that I would go out of my way to buy a fish product from Hardee’s, McDonald’s or Wendy’s if I don’t even buy seafood at an established seafood place. The last time I went to John’s Seafood in Murfreesboro I got the bison steak and the one and only time I went to Mayflower I got the hamburger steak.

I’m not about to order some mystery fish thing from a fast food restaurant. The thought of a cod sandwich or fish bites baking under a heating lamp all day scream food poisoning or some other malady that requires Pepto-Bismol as the immediate remedy.

Who’s to even know if it’s real fish you’re eating or whether it’s some mixture of fish parts left over from Mrs. Paul’s fish stick factory or something the Gorton’s fisherman was going to throw back to the sharks before realizing he could make a buck or two off Hardee’s.

I’m really suspect of anything that comes from the water anyway. There’s something unsettling about relaxing with friends and popping fish bites when I don’t know whether they could contain unholy amounts of mercury or chlorine.

So, no, I’m not going to buy your fish stuff no matter how manly I may look devouring one or no matter how much fun it may appear chowing down on fish bites in some rustic cabin where a mad man in a hockey mask is lurking outside to kill us all.

And just as a side note, and I direct this to Nationwide, no one’s buying your notion that people across the nation are braking for squirrels. You’d be a fool to do that since squirrels were created with only one notion in mind, to make us swerve for them and crash so they one day rule the world and create an even more disgusting fish product than is already on the market — Lance Martin