The word ketchup does not fully embody the greatness that ketchup is. However, it stands leaps-and-bounds above catsup. Ketchup is something to be celebrated, adored, and cherished. Held high-upon-high. The King of Sauces. Why not just call ketchup Jesus? Its spicy boldness is truly holy and there’s a bottle on the table in every picture of The Last Supper I’ve ever seen. (Although sometimes it’s hard to see, but keep looking, it’s there.)
Catsup is something to be disregarded. Technically the “vegetable” on your school lunch tray. Thrown away during an absence of teacher’s gaze. Catsup, to me, conjures up nightmarish visions of children being tortured, 9/11, or burgers and dogs being consumed with a thin, watery, tasteless impostor sauce. The horror…
Askew visions of a KittyKat ghetto where felines greet each other without intellect; “Yo Cat! Sup?”
Not widely known, catsup can cause gastro-intestinal bleeding, esophageal rash, and has even been linked to Ebola.
Ketchup and catsup are not one-and-the-same. Don’t make that mistake. If I must use catsup, then I choose not to use!
Excuse me while I locate my dictionary and strike out this so-called word. It’s a term I’m no longer familiar with.
To be continued…