As I am ploughing through my writings, I often crack a smile at my humor. Judging by the crooked twist of my lips, it is bitter humor. Which entices me to search for synonyms close and far: sarcastic, acerbic, rancorous, sardonic, ironic, venomous, biting, calamitous, stinging, caustic… I give up at some point, though. Many of the synonyms on offer on the World Wide Web are a bit too strong for my own taste. Or a bit too bitter. After all, my humor is bittersweet much of the time. That is a much better way to pin it down, I am sure. Having said that, I hasten to add that my humor is much more bitter than sweet. Much more, indeed. So much more that the sweet bit is hardly noticeable at first encounter with my writings, as a matter of fact. Actually, it is carefully veiled most of the time. That is it. My humor is bittersweet, but the sweetness is, as it were, reserved for the chosen few. Yes, that is definitely it. Dear reader, I must be boring you by now, but I sincerely hope you understand what I have in mind concerning my humor. Bittersweet but not exactly. Only just. See?

Addendum (June 4, 2017)

So many years later, I still agree with my merry assessment. Very much so, as a matter of fact. My humor is bittersweet, indeed. And especially after the appearance of the Donald on the world stage. I kind of wished him in his lofty post, for America surely deserves someone of his ilk, but I still cringe on occasion from his many outrageous bloomers. He is just right for America, and yet he makes me jittery every now and then. I laugh at his shenanigans, but I keep cringing all the while. In my mind, the Donald is the personification of the entire human race. The clown of all clowns. Returning to my humor, the Donald spells it out rather well. Bittersweet all the way to hell.