Let me engage in a rare moment of self-reflection. This blog, lately it’s been venturing into “dark humour” territory.  It’s always had a bit of that, but I think it’s gotten blacker.

What I hope you realize, dear regular reader, is that I’m generally a positive person, and this is all done with my tongue firmly implanted in my cheek.

Wait, WTF does that mean? Does anyone actually put their tongue in their cheek when they are being subtley sarcastic? Well no, because it’s impossible to talk with your tongue in your cheek. Seriously, I’m trying it right now, and it schaawnds rike zzis.

Uh. But anyway. I’m not depressed or anything. I think it’s actually the opposite; the happier I am, the darker my humour and my creative ventures become. This may seem counterintuitive, but think of it this way: when I’m happy, everything around me seems happy, so I’m bored with the positive. When I get a chance to escape – like when writing or trying to be funny – I want it to be something different. Thus, when happy, I wanna venture into something amusing but unhappy. It’s like, when you live in Hawaii all year, a vacation in Alaska probably doesn’t sound so bad.

Plus, there’s something comforting about darkness. We all crave a sad or scary movie once in a while. Personally I delight in warm, gloomy days like today, when the sky opens up and the thunder shakes the windows. The need for forays into darkness is, I think, a sign of a healthy relationship with light.

So if you see me blogging about kitties and rainbows and streets made of candy, better call and talk the shotgun out of my mouth.¹

^{1. See?? Even that was pretty dark.}