This subject has been discussed in my circle of friends many times. Namely, the root of horror and humor being one and the same.

In the end, it comes down to facing a reality that, at first, your brain just fucking denies. You know it’s wrong. It’s something you cannot accept as truth. So you either laugh like hell at it, or you feel nothing but terror, once the reality gels and you are forced to accept it.

Case in point: I woke up after my first bachelor party, where I’d been blackout drunk. And discovered that my best man had taken digital camera pics (this was back in the day when a digicam was a rare thing – his was a Sony Digital Mavica that used floppy 1.4 mb disks rather than film) of me naked, drunkenly jacking off in his bathtub. And posted this to his website (also back when websites were rare). And had shared the URL with a few of our friends.

Horror? Or humor? I chose a mix of both. And forced him at knifepoint to take them down. At least the ones where I’m covered in my own vodka-steeped vomit, with my cock in my hand, and an alcohol-poisoned look on my stupid-assed face. He still has the pics, and that, my friends, is one of the reasons I will never run for public office. Pity, that.