I’m regularly accused of being dark, and for a long time I fought that characterization despite some damning evidence.
“I’m not going to die alone. I’ll be surrounded by my cats.”
“No, I think I’m a pretty good person. I haven’t killed anyone yet, so that’s good. Right?”
“I’m so good at bladder control. Really, a lesser woman would have peed in her pants by now.”
“OK, today sucked, but at least I don’t have cancer. Yet.”
“He should just be grateful he has a girlfriend– there are millions of guys in China who would love to be in his shoes. Mostly because they’ve exported all the girls.”