That Moment When Your Dark Humor Hits a Nerve So I may have put my foot in my mouth today. Again. I, in my not-so-innocent wisdom, dropped two spicy comments—one about using a serpentine belt to strangle myself, and the other suggesting the brake lathe instead for a more gruesome end. Yeah. That brake lathe one definitely crossed a line. But before I could filter it or catch my own brain for going full Saw franchise, it was already out there. John, sweet chaotic John, just looked at me and calmly said, “Yep, it’s time for you to go, Caleb. Get something to eat. Watch a movie. Call Miranda or your therapist.” I, being the delightfully unhinged goblin that I am, started laughing my ass off. He didn’t laugh. He just stood there with this deeply concerned look that said: “This is not funny. Are you okay?” Which only made me laugh harder, because sometimes I genuinely can’t help it. Humor is my shield, my pressure valve, my accidental weapon of choice. The thing is... I...