E-rac's blog

I'm not sure who wrote this poem -maybe you've seen it- but I like it, especially the last part.

A poem to all my friends.

When you are sad – I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against
the sorry bastard who made you sad.

When you are blue – I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.

When you smile – I will know you are plotting something that I must
be involved in.

When you are scared – I will rag on you about it every chance I get.

When you are worried – I will tell you horrible stories about how
much worse it could be until you quit whining.

When you are confused – I will use simple, little words.

When you fail – I will point out the fact that it's your fault.

When you are sick – Stay the hell away from me until you are well
again. I don't want whatever you have.

When you fall – I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass.

This is my oath.... I pledge it to the end. "Why?" you may
ask; "because you are my friend".
Friendship is like peeing your pants, everyone can see it, but only
you can feel the true warmth.

“I will tell you a pleasant tale that has in it a touch of pathos.  A man got religion, and asked the priest what he must do to be worthy of his new estate.  The priest said, “Imitate our Father in Heaven, learn to be like him.”  The man studied his Bible diligently and thoroughly and understandingly, and then with prayers for heavenly guidance instituted his imitations.  He tricked his wife into falling downstairs, and she broke her back and became a paralytic for life; he betrayed his brother into the hands of a sharper, who robbed him of his all and landed him in the almhouse; he inoculated one son with hookworms, another with the sleeping sickness, another with gonorrhea; he furnished one daughter with scarlet fever and ushered her into her teens deaf, dumb, and blind for life; and after helping a rascal seduce the remaining one, he closed his doors against her and she died in a brothel cursing him.  Then he reported to the priest, who said that that was no way to imitate his Father in Heaven.  The convert asked wherein he had failed, but the priest changed the subject and inquired what kind of weather he was having, up his way.” 

--From ­Mark Twain: Letters From the Earth, edited by Bernard DeVoto, Fawcett World Library, 1962.  The book is a compilation of some of Twain’s works that weren’t published or finished during his lifetime.  I especially love his Letters From the Earth.  The letters are written by Satan and sent to St. Michael and St. Gabriel.  After being punished by the Creator, once again, for being a smartass, Satan decides to head to earth to take a look at the Creator’s little pet project to see how it turned out.  He is amazed at what he sees and writes about the earth’s insanity.  He is particularly amused with man’s image of the Creator and heaven.