Welcome to 2009. We all make promises at the start of a new year, some that we speak openly about and some that we keep to ourselves. This is a collection of the latter, because you deserve to know the truth. Be prepared for a little darkness, some heart-wrenching tales of self-improvement, and another journey to the depths of Nate's soul in this column that we can proudly say all of Steve's Word's contributors managed to pull together to collectively write (except for one). Please to enjoy our resolutions.
The sun is setting around 4.45 pm these days and the last week has been colder than hell. We're getting to the point in the year when the shock of an abrupt onset of Winter pales in comparison to the immediate seasonal depression that has taken hold. But I don't care about any of that because this is my favorite time of the year, and Thanks
Pundits be makin' a fuss about the global Financial Crisis. I seen it on my 50-inch flattie. People are losin' they money in the stock market, companies are goin' bankrupt, old folks are losin' the value of their 401(k)s and putting off their retirement or gettin' tossed outta their houses, and all that.
It's a mess. Legit.
So, as a man who has had his fair share of personal financial crises, I'd like to put in my two cents on this important matter, to break this financial crisis down, girl, and put it into simple language. Because if there's one thing that Hammer knows, it's that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I ain't foolin'.
Call it wanderlust. Call it boredom. Call it fear of commitment. Call it what you will, but it's time to come clean. I've got a wandering eye for other cities. It's just time to move on. Or is it? I've been ruminating on this for quite awhile. Years in fact. It seemed like a road trip along the West Coast last year was the worst it could get.
Well, here it is, my final column for Steve's Word. I gotta tell 'ya, it's been a real trip. Almost as good as a cold Busch Light on a bright Denver spring day, without the subsequent headache, weinerpains, and waves of filthy regret. And that's somethin'.
I've shared some of the experiences I've had in my not-short life, some of my favorite follies 'n sexual exploits, the good times and the arthritis-induced bad times, and heck, even thrown in a couple of pieces of my extensive fiction oeuvre so you can see that we Rock 'n Rollers have a little more goin' on upstairs than you'd think. Mission accomplished.
Yep. But even though Hott Lixx is coming to its logical end, that doesn't mean I'm fallin' off the map. I have quite a few projects in the ol' pipeline. Rheumatoid arthritis and cable bills be damned, I'm a Renaissance man, and this winter is shaping up to be my own personal Sack of Rome. In Denver.
It's six in the morning and I'm sitting here at my desk at the front of the Steve's Word office. This is becoming quite my column modus operandi, I think that's the phrase. At least I'm not hungover this time and I'm not shaken to my very core. I'm feeling quite the contrary, to tell the truth, because I got laid last night. I know, I know. I didn't think it would happen to me again either, especially after my very explicit previous column. I guess it's a good thing not everyone reads Steve's Word. Wait, that can't be right.
Oh man, I feel fantastic; I'm sure you've felt like this once or twice in your life. And, not to brag or anything, but I thought I might share with you some lessons and revelations that I picked up last night. Don't worry, it's safe for work. Unless you don't work at home. Just kidding.
Well, since next week is gonna be the final installment of Hott Lixx, and therefore I'll be jobless again in 8 days' time, a couple days ago I took a little initiative and hit the streets of East Colfax to do a little sprucin' up. A little pre-emptive pre-winter spring cleaning for any forthcoming job interviews. Naturally this entailed a little trip to the coiffeur.
Now, as many of you well know, I'm losing my hair. Follicle by precious follicle it decamps my pate with alarming frequency, leaving a flaking, age-bespotted firmament of scalp in its wake. But until this most recent trip to Fantastic Sam's, I guess I hadn't noticed quite how far my hair-star had fallen.
This past Friday night Steve's Word boogied the night away all in the name of President-Elect Obama's Victory. It was a casul and unnoficial gathering thrown together at the last minute to try and get our name out there to a few more people. Matt and Tim bought at least one drink for everyone who gathered at The KGB Bar in the name of Steve and Obama.
Hey folks. After the outpouring of support I got last week after posting Chapter Seven of my three-part novel, PESCADITO! One Boy's Journey on a Colombian Fishing Jitney, I figured, what the heck, I'll go ahead and proffer another chapter for your delectation. So here's the novel's dramatic Chapter 19, in which Luis/Gustavo finds himself in Paraguay, pursued by the dreaded and swarthy Marcos gang in a race against time to Presidente Analfabetos Airport. I'm proud of it, 'n I hope you all enjoy it. I know I do.
And, once again, I'd like to remind you all that copies of PESCADITO!, and all of my other novels, are available for purchase at my Arvada trailer home.
What a night that was. We all watched a lot of news, drank a lot of beer and screamed our lungs out right around 11 pm. But, since everyone's experience was slightly different, we've decided to all contribute to this, the Steve's Word Election wrap up. Please to enjoy.
Come on, Eldrick.