Bless the ketchup

It was indeed a weird moment this evening when I had dinner with my friend and M. In my friends flat (condominium for the yanks, or no, condomiunium is when you buy, flat is always rental...side discussion which is not relevant here) you are not allowed to smoke. For some reason or another. So I had to venture out in the hallway. As I always do. Respect! Yeah, right. When I got back M said fuck. M doesn't say fuck often, so this got my attention. Read my ears pricked. Turned out he sat down in some gooey. Which we to this day don't know exactly what it was (I place a bet on ketchup personally, but who knows...and who cares?). The point is that I got to wipe it off. His ass. This is as close as we have gotten after living together for 3 months. It was a delicate task...