HUFFING WITH DON HENLEY by Huff Daddy

I'm lurking around this site, but don't mind me. I'm incognito, I'm one of the flies on the Wall Of Flies On The Wall, but I'm different, I'm OFF The Wall, I kicked Pink Floyd cold turkey, too... Wait a sec... was it Pink Floyd or Red Buttons? I get those two mixed up. Who's that other colored guy who has a band? Black Sabbath? One o' them "black" guys... Who's that punk band... Black Fag? I used to sniff roach spray with their lead singer, what's his name? R-O-L-A-I-D-S? Yeah, that's it, Henry Rolaids! I like that som-bitch, he's a good motherfucker. Knows how to HUFF! I hate amateurs who can't join me, and get behind a can of some alternative off brand... you know... PAM, RAID, Febreze, Woolite, Listerine... the whole gamut of household huffing supplies. A lot of big rock stars are too conceited to cop a buzz off of carpet cleaning fluid, and I think that's so LAME!!!!

One time, I was huffin' on a can of primer red, down by Venice beach, and none other than Don Henley of the Eagles walked right by me. I'd huffed to Hotel California enough to know not to say a word... I just gave him a knowing look... and offered him my bag, like a true-blue, sniffin' brother! I don't offer my bag to just ANYBODY, man!! Then, the stuck-up rock star, Mr. Too Rich To Hang Out With The PEOPLE, that fucking ASSHOLE, Don motherfucking Henley had the nerve to tell me, as he walked away with his thumb sticking up:

<Don Henley> I don't feel like it right now, Huff Daddy,
but thanks, I really appreciate the offer....

Wha... ? Say WHAT? I can't believe this! Hotel California used to be our MAIN huffing album! We used to sniff GALLONS of Contact Cement and drive around listening to to that 8-track over, and over, and over, and over, and over... We always knew the lyrics were about huffin'!!! All the clues were there, but now I find out it was just an act, and the Eagles don't get as high as "Life In The Fast Lane" might suggest. I almost broke into tears, yelling as he walked away... "FUCK YOU, Henley! The Eagles have always sucked raw dog donkey lady dildos... since day ONE! You SUCK, you miserable piece of corporate rock bullshit!" 

Then something happened that changed my life forever...

Don Henley turned around, and walked all the way back to to where I was. I was so happy! Finally I could tell my buddies I actually huffed a can of blue paint with Don Henley! I offered him my bag as he approached, but I don't think he took it, because it was still stuck to my hand when the EMS guys found me in the alley. Everybody said Henley must have cold cocked me, because I somehow picked-up a couple of freshly blackened eyes in the meantime, and my jaw was swollen, like a pork brisket out to here, but I didn't believe it about Don. No way. Henley couldn't possibly be able to kick MY ass, I'm streetwise, man, like a fly pimp! I've mugged busloads of tourists! Shit, I've lost count of how many times one of 'em caught me off guard, and just beat the living snot out of me! Stole my spray paint, too! So don't try to tell me about Henley. He ain't got what it takes. I've been beat down by PLENTY of little old ladies badder than Don suckhead Henley. That punk motherfucker can't even huff on a bag of good spray, much less knock the wind out of THIS old streetwise play-yuh...

(Huff Daddy begins huffing on glue bag, then slowly turns,
and mummy shuffles into the psychedelic sunset...)

huff... huff... huff... huff... huff... huff... huff...
huff... huff... huff... huff... huff... huff... huff... 

(fade to black)

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