Things that still wouldn’t shock and disgust me more than the young, east-coast-raised, college-educated casual racist I’m sitting with at dinner.

A nearly dead squirrel, maimed by a truck on I-93, vomiting half-digested old diapers onto the gravel.

Sweaty jock straps full of rotten milk, covered in centipedes. Plus the centipedes are also vomiting.

Being trapped in a diving bell full of Rush Limbaugh’s farts.

Tucker Max dating a close friend.

Someone poking their own eyeball.