Rampart.

So after the auction, I met my lovely husband and the effervescent Kelly who did attend and buy a dead man's stuff. I have to say that from time to time. Steve is dead. I danced and sang karaoke last night at the Silverstone, and just missed a crying jag. Also, stayed quite sober (a first for me!)
So..

This is the perfect portrait to illustrate that which was Steve. No wait....This does.

this was Steve. Focused on the penis and hilarious commenter of the passing parade of 2 faced hypocrites. He knew bullshit, was full of bullshit ,and, my favorite. Called bullshit on bullshit.
He used to ask us what Grapes of Wrath car did we drive into Tacoma today.......each time we came up to see him. Funny, Steve. And, um true.
We drive pieces of crap. because we are not materialistic and we are not defined by what we drive. Other than,obviously....we are not materialistic and we are not defined by what we drive.

So,while I was up in Steve's 3rd floor lair, I kept looking at all the stuff we sold him over the years. I kept staring at the bed. To erase the picture of the scene on that terrible day in February, I just kept the good times in my head.
How many times had Steve and Mark and I lolled around on the bed, watching movies, drinking, laughing and cutting up.

It's kinda funny to hear Steve being discussed....I know who knew him. I know who hated him. I'm sure he's looking up/down and laughing and making fun of you.
But not me. He knows Mark snagged the penis. And one of the last perfect "poems" Steve wrote to stupidity and alacrity and mendacity that men do.