Sadness

My favorite comedian just admitted to masturbating in a hotel swimming pool. 

When I was a kid, mom and dad used to take us out to eat, and I would do this thing where, at the end of the meal, I would mix up all the condiments on the table and put them in one container (the tiny bottles they keep on the table, I don’t know what the fuck they’re called). Like, I would take the pepper bottle, mix it with some salt, and then pour some vinegar into it. To this day, I think about it. I think about all the people whose meals I fucked up. I laugh about it, but deep inside there’s a little bit of regret. And now this.