Guest Post: Andrew

The final post of Andrew week.  Us here at 3stacks would like to thank Andrew and remind him and anybody else who enjoys writing to please submit any piece you want to have on the blog, as long as it is slightly enjoyable to read I shall post.  lucas.marlow@gmail.com

EULOGY: D-FLY

With so many people dying, sometimes it’s hard to stay ahead of the curve. For this reason, I CONSTANTLY eulogize, out of the fear that I may be called upon at any moment to celebrate a departed life and approach the podium inadequately prepared. Enjoy!

When I first met Dan, I didn’t think much of him. It was kind of obnoxious, the way he followed us, always wanted to tag along, doing what the big kids did, always with his home-made sandwich and some rape-whistle full of placebo pills.

I guess I first gained respect for the little guy when I saw him put the jux on Camper. Camper was this craaaaazy ass dude, almost lost his hand trying to build an I.E.D. out of a VCR at 4 in the morning. Like a week later, Camper comes out of a shower, fully clothed, soaking wet, and throws the gauntlet down at Dan.

“Let’s fucking fight.” Just like that.

Camper was like a compact Dolf Lundren, and word around the building was that he had greased a cat out by the dumpster with a mop handle. Nobody wanted nothing from Camper. But I think Dan saw me on the couch, maxin’ out in my Air Max’s, pager blowin’ up, casually eyeballin’ the situation cos for some reason he agreed.

He was sweating something fierce when they first started trading blows, but then he got into his groove. He was quick like lightning. He sidestepped Camper and laid him the fuck out, ON VIDEO.  Lucky for Camper there was no YouTube (plug) back then, but he still dropped out of school.

Last I heard of Camper:  he offed a whole bus of Chinese tourists in Santa Monica and was doing 26 consecutive life sentences in San Quentin.

Shit gets wild.

Way before P’Zones (plug II) we used to chomp on some D.P. Dough (plug III). Me and Dan got into a fight over some stolen calzones. Mutual snuffage.

Like I said, shit gets wild.

Me and D-fly moved in this beat-ass APT on the rough side of Willi with Limber Jim. Kid came in tryin to microwave some fuckin eggs, so we tried to teach him some self control. He still uses the wrong side of the sponge.

Sometimes Tom would come by and bring by mad food for me and Limber Jim to eat. Tom was like Dan’s way old brother or something, he used to build planes for a living.

When Limber Jim left, it was just me and D. Times were tough. D almost went at the police with a gun one day. That was some crazy shit. Another day, he was scrappin with this guy Punisher. Punisher was like this real tough-ass dude that had beef with anyone half his size. He puffed up quick. D cooled him out though.

Another time me and D-Fly started scrappin over some of that great Stop and Shop brand Refrigerated Pizza Dough (plug IV). Originally, we had gone out looking for some delicious Wendy’s (plug V) or maybe some tasty Quizno’s (plug VI)….wait, no, It couldn’t have been Quizno’s because they hadn’t come to Willimantic yet (retract plug VI)….but when they did come, boy did they ever make a fine toasted sub! (restore plug VI). Maybe it was Burger King’s Crispy Chicken Sandwich we were after (plug VII) or possibly something at McDonald’s(plug VIII). On second thought, no, it could not have been McDonalds, because their food tastes like rat shit (retract plug VIII).  Oh! We were on our way to Valero, because they had the best gas prices in town!(plug IX) We filled up the tank in Dan’s Ford Explorer Eddie Bauer Edition—which, needless to say, we didn’t have to do very often because it had the best gas mileage of any midsize SUV (plug X)—and were heading down the road, just past that sumptuous D’Angelo’s (plug XI) on main street, when we got to the Stop and Shop (plug IV, refrain) and said, “Hey, what the fuck? Why not?”

I don’t know what to else to say. D had the heart of a lion, stuffed into the sweaty body of a child. He was quick to throw. I always got the memories of this little scamp, counting my money for me, always shit between his teeth, hittin on the little Greek boys.

That’s just the way Danny was, full of life, crazy as hell.