I also imagine Steve wearing a red silk monogrammed robe. Yeah, it's a little Hugh Hefner, but unlike Hugh, Steve can actually pull it off and not make you throw up in your mouth. In fact, he does more than just pull it off: he looks like a fucking bad-ass. I mean, picture it: that shiny, gorgeous man-hair silhouetted against dark red silk. Manly and picturesque, right? You bet your sweet ass it is.
You might have noticed the absence of a lady friend, and you would be correct. No, Steve is not going through a period of loneliness. It's just that when he relaxes, he prefers not to have any distractions, and that includes women folk. It's one hundred percent pure man time. Or rather, one hundred percent pure Steve time.
We should all take a page from Steve's book. I mean, if numbing yourself with booze and nicotine isn't relaxing, then ya got me. Am I right, or am I right?
You are clearly melded with Steve Perry in a way the rest of us can only gaze upon with awe... and jaw-shattering envy. Please telepathically communicate to Steve our best wishes and standing offer of all manner of naughtiness.
ReplyDelete(Also you are a great writer and hi-freakin'-larious. You are SO bookmarked.)
Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying the blog. It's nice to know I can amuse others besides myself. :-)
ReplyDeleteAnd I will send telepathic vibes to good ol' Steve.