The ex mother in law was straight onto me with an email within
minutes of Ibiza History Culture going out all over the world on Saturday. She
wanted to know if her daughter had ever really been a lap dancer and I sort of
coughed in an English kind of way and said it was just a bit of harmless fun really
and anyway what was she doing up and online so early in the morning in the Nevada
Desert? Evelyn was the original legend in her own lunchtime.
She was a chorus girl in Las Vegas when she was nineteen and later joined the
Johnny Weissmuller Water Show touring Europe as a formation swimmer. Younger readers
may wish to know that he was the original screen Tarzan. Shes the sort of
person who should have ended up running the most successful bar in San Antonio
with Tarzan as her doorman. Shes given up the six-packs
now and so we can talk to each other without interrupting all the time. She
said she had been thinking about friendship and about the ones who just go. Being
American, she keeps getting lots of mushy poems from the Raggedy-Arsed Multitude
(RAMs) who invade AOL and think they are hip with computers. You know the sort
of saccharine-sweet little nothings dripping with kittens, hearts and smiles? So
I said why dont you write a poem yourself that really expresses how you
feel and see how long it takes to get round the world. She did. In ten minutes
flat. Without cracking a single can. And here it is: Friend
When
you are sad, I will get you drunk and help you. I will
also assist in plotting revenge against the bastard who made you sad. When
you are blue, Ill try to dislodge whatever it is thats choking you. When
you smile, Ill finally know you got laid. When you
are scared of something, Ill keep going on about it. Whatever it is. Over
and over again. When you are worried, Ill tell you
horrible stories about how things could get even worse and how. When
you are confused I will use little words so you can make out what Im saying. When
you are sick, I want you to stay away from me so I dont catch what youve
already got. When you fall, I will point at you and laugh
myself silly. THIS IS MY OATH I PLEDGE TILL THE END WHY?
YOU MAY ASK BECAUSE YOURE MY FRIEND! Then
she said everyone should be instructed to send this poem to ten of their closest
friends or else they will have bad luck and go to Hell and get depressed because
they will realise they only have two friends and one of them is not speaking to
them right now. By the way, I have my own postscript to
Evies Ode to Friendship: A FRIEND WILL HELP YOU MOVE
A REAL FRIEND WILL HELP YOU MOVE A BODY.
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