Ketchup will kill us all!

As I sat there tearing into an outstanding hunk of steak between two pieces of buttered bread, I thought about Ketchup. It’s not that I didn’t have any for my deliciously tremendous potato wedges that came with my meal. I actually had an ample supply. And in between taking bites and licking my tasty fingers, I would refill the blob of savory ketchup on my plate making the experience exponentially better.

And here lies the inherent problem. Despite how anti-bacterial our society has become with the abundance of sanitary wipes, gels, concoctions, and various witches’ brews available to the public, the simple condiment bottle that has kept you company at every restaurant meal may be your ultimate demise. During this meal alone, I probably licked my fingers over twenty times. And guess what? This was in preparation to manipulate that friendly and familiar Heinz bottle.
Multiply this number by the average amount of patrons in a single day. Then multiply that value by how many times you eat out per year. According to my calculations, I’ve had oral sex with the entire state of California (this statistic doesn’t include illegal immigrants). You are probably safer eating a burger out of a hobo’s ass.

Moral of the story…civilization as we know it is completely f’cked.
See you all in hell…

On a side note… I only eat Ketchup with a “K.” Catsup is for pussies.