Dirty little secret

I met a writer friend for a drink last night for a bit of literary chit-chat. He's had a couple of novels published, but has to have a day job. I make a living from journalism, but I'm a novice fiction writer.

So we go in for a bit of mutual mentoring.
And he's delighted my current project is going well, but would like to help. When he offered to read and comment on completed chapters I had to look away because I was struggling to a straight face and I'm pretty sure I blushed beet red.
The prospect of my rather prim and proper (very vanilla) friend reading all that STUFF cracked me up.
I suppose I could bowdlerise it just for him - go though the draft and edit out all the red bottom-related material. It would take a lot of cutting, but at least his read through wouldn't take very long...