Everything is personal in some way, to someone, somewhere.
'Q: What's blue and doesn't fit? A: A dead epileptic.'
I heard that joke a few days after my sister died as a result of trauma suffered during an epileptic fit. I thought about it carefully and decided that it was funny but I didn't laugh. I didn't have any kind of 'words' with the person who told the joke either, because I knew that I would have laughed at it a few days previously.
Biting the hand that feeds IT
