My daydreams have been little other than keeping my mouth shut. For an entire day. Week. Month. My job makes this impossible, but I can at least tone it down. Trim the fat. Of late, verbal communication seems remarkably unnecessary to me in almost every circumstance.
My humor isn't meant to offend, it's meant to make you laugh. And when people miss the point, or it's just too much for them, I wind up offended as well. And I feel bad. I can joke about adoption because I don't have a kid, I can joke about Hitler because I didn't experience it. I don't have much of a life or a connection to humanity, so everything is a big joke to me. I try not to take anything too seriously, otherwise the universe would be a much more depressing place.
And I think that's why we have humor, honestly. To cope. Perhaps our humanoid ancestors dropped dead of depression if they couldn't figure out what was funny about their situation. Or maybe God, if he's up there, programmed it into us in preparation of what was the come.
I wonder if God would be offended by my Satan jokes. I can't win.