Whoa.

So I am back on this blog for a VERY important reason, ya'll. You see, I went on a journey today. A long journey. At least it was for my butt.

And on this journey, I needed companionship. I needed guidance. And I was blessed with it. I was blessed, you see, by he who digs.

Yes, yes that is right. The Holy Gopher walked with me today.

He's a bit worse for wear, the poor thing. He got to caught up in some Pride festivities and took quite the licking, not in the fun way. But a little packing tape stopped any further damage happening to his silky, spiritual coat. And although his frame is tarnished, it is his golden gopher soul that thrives, despite the state of his physical manifestation.

I prayed to he who digs as I always do on long journeys from LA to Ohio and vice versa. He calmed my fraying nerves with a light scalp massage, followed by a steaming cup of chamomile tea. "Do not be afraid," he squeaked. "Do not be afraid, for I am with thee."

With that, I happily boarded.

We arrived safely at the layover in Phoenix without incident. Unless you call the creepy guy across the aisle leering at me and staring as if he was trying to measure my skin for a suit an incident. That is neither here or there, because I got onto the plane sweet as you please, waiting calmly to take off.

That was when the guy passed out.

I have never experienced drama on a plane. I've been flying since I was 6 months old, and it has never happened. This dude insisted on standing, then refused to sit down, then promptly passed out.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Are you alright, sir?

PASSOUT GUY: *eyes roll back again but he stays conscious*

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Sir, are you alright?

PASSOUT GUY: No, no I'm not.

They got the guy off the plane eventually and after that, we were off.

THG and I spent many an hour wiling away the time keeping fellowship with one another, listening to music, reading Time to enrich, SkyMall to promptly decay. Sudoku saved our brain cells, though...

But eventually the depressurization and the monotony of the time began to take hold.

Must...Not...Pass...Out...Wait. I didn't know THG liked to snuggle...

Stessy Ty-Ty...

Finally, FINALLY we arrive in Columbus. No more cramped seats for 4 hours, no more men dropping like stones, no more creepies trying to play footsie with me. To be back in Ohio, especially with my parents, was a gift that I could not fathom to its full greatness. I was awestruck.

My journey had ended. I was once again in the Buckeye State. I laid myself prostrate before He Who Burrows, pledging my utmost faith and allegiance to him.

...And in doing so, I discovered the answer to the fads of "Planking" and "Owling." Ladies and Gentlemen, I introduce you to...

Bear-Rugging.

That one's for you, Danny.

Love you all,
Stephsteph.

A Drive-By Post of WTF???

Anyway, what is up? What is going on in the world of Steph?

Let's revert to bullet-points, shall we?

*Got two gigs in Los Angeles. How did I do that? NO IDEA. But I did it!
~I'm in one of my favorite musicals, "Lucky Stiff" at the Glendale Centre Theater.
~I'm in a group called "Spotlight Cabaret" which performs at The Vermont.

*Want to strangle my Musical Theatre Combos teacher. I won't get into it, because this is the internet. And THE EYES ARE EVERYWHERE.

*REALLY want to strangle the teacher for my "Fear and the Horror Film" class. It's a HORROR FILM CLASS. You obviously love horror films. HOW CAN YOU SCREW THAT UP? If we're such a distraction during class discussion (take a moment, let that sink in,) how about if I get up there and teach the class. How about that?

*Am actually enjoying my Film Genre class. Just did classic 40's screwball comedy with "His Girl Friday" and I'm working on "The Quick and The Dead" right now. RAWK.

*Am dancing again, alot, and sweating like a beast 5 out of the 7 days I exist in a week.

*Got CRAZY sick for two weeks. TWO WEEKS. IN JULY. The flu which then turned into a secondary infection of Laryngitis. Seriously? Seriously???

And last, but not least:
*WENT TO COMIC CON, GOT ASKED BY JANE ESPENSON TO HOLD HER WATER BOTTLE, SAW ADAM BALDWIN AND THE ENTIRE CAST OF "BOONDOCK SAINTS II: ALL SAINTS DAY" (That includes Julie Benz too, btw,) AND HALF THE CAST OF "TRUE BLOOD."

Ok, I am now gonna go drop into bed so I can help move my friend Michael in the morning to his new apartment because his ex-best friend and roommate is a fucktwat, and quite hopefully dream of Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto and Karl Urban. Because yes, on top of all that, I have seen "Star Trek" 5 times.

Night all.
~Steph

I had to address this.

Farrah was tragic, but I am glad she isn't in pain anymore. I am glad she is finally at rest. She was an icon for a generation.

But she was not as big of a part of my life, especially my childhood development, as Michael Jackson.



Yeah, he was batshit insane. But that doesn't change the fact that I knew the "Thriller" album from start to finish by the time I was 2, or that I had the "Bad" album the same way by the time I was 5. The tapes in the car would go from "There's a Hole in the Bucket" to "Man in the Mirror" regularly.

I watched "The Making of Captain EO," on betamax until I wore it out. My mom and dad taped it off TV for me and I watched it religiously. I never got to get to Epcot to see it. It was something that always made me sad. When Jacko went Wacko, it was truly a sad moment for me. A childhood icon, hell, a childhood friend to a strange, only child was gone, destroyed. But he was always singing in the back of my head.

You will be missed, Michael. So sorry you went crazy, that you became the pariah that you became. I think alot of people forgot about that today, at least for a moment. They remembered you at your best, the unrivaled King of Pop, at the moment you touched their lives the most.

Rest In Peace, Mr. Jackson. I'll always remember you at your best. I thank you for being part of my life.

A link to "Thriller" in its entirety, embedding disabled by request


I found "The Making of Captain EO," on Youtube. Part 1 above the cut, 2&3 below, along with "Captain EO," in its entirety and a collection of MJ pics I gathered up today. I hope you enjoy.















The actual Full Length "Captain EO"


































You will be missed.

The Holy Gopher Pilgrimage: Day Four.

I apologize for the lateness of this post. I know it has been a long while since the gospel has touched you, dear burrowers. But now, after a weekend filled with sunburns and naked men (A story which I will empart another day,) I give you the final leg of The Holy Gopher's journey.

For those of you who are interested, yes, there are more of THG adventures that will be told to you all. For no, THG cannot leave you now, now that he has touched you all in oh so many ways. No, he has so much more to teach you, he cannot leave you in your hour of need.

But onto our tale.



I woke with makeup and hair camera-ready of course, courtesy of The Gopher, and we headed out onto the road. He Who Lives For The Earth was quite a crankypants - I think he was just getting cabin fever from four days in the car, which is understandable. No being was meant to be jammed in a car for days on end. Not even the Italian Mafia.




Still, he was a brilliant navigator and we were well on the way to California. It wasn't long into our journey that we reached Arizona, otherwise known as "The Gorgeous State that Casey won't let us move to because it's too hot." Yes, I called my girlfriend out. It's alright, she still won't move there.




It was truly a majestic land, a world of craggy rock and rich green hills, fierce winds and highways you could go 75 miles per hour on. The Gopher felt at home here, as if he was always meant to watch over these lands. He looked out over the mountains and valleys of this great state with a strong solemnity, as if he would never see a more fitting place to reign.

Truly, Arizona became a land of wonder for us. We were awestruck at the sheer magnitude of what lay before us, eyes wide with all its brilliance. And it was then, and only then, that the Gopher spoke that day.

"I want to see dinosaurs."

I blinked, unsure of how to proceed. One does not correct The Gopher. But did he not know that the dinosaur had long since perished?

Suddenly, my car revved its engine and picked up speed. I could not believe it, but as I glanced down I was set into shock at what I saw.

The Gopher was driving.




We careened down an abandoned road the likes of which I have never seen. I stifled my screams of horror, trying to find my trust in The Gopher, but to say I was not scared would be an outright lie. What we came upon, though, was truly nothing short of amazing.




The Meteor Crater.

It is said this is the first meteor crater to be found in the United States and that it has not changed all that much since it was made. We touched a piece of the meteor that made the hole:




Yes, that means what you think it means. The above would be read as such: WE TOUCHED SOMETHING FROM OUTER FUCKING SPACE.

The magnitude of that still makes me reel.

The Crater is off the beaten path of I-40 by a good ten minutes but the trip was beyond worth it. The Meteor Crater not only had a museum filled with interesting facts and wonderful hands-on exhibits, but to see something that exists on the planet solely because of it hurtling through our atmosphere was quite humbling to say the absolute least.

When you are on the observation decks, they have many telescopes set up to get a better idea of how huge this crater was. One of the telescopes was focused on an example of what a six foot tall astronaut and a 3x5 flag would look like in comparison to the crater. They were planted in the very center of the crater, from what I could tell of the telescope's placement. When you looked through the telescope, it was plain to see. When you looked away, though, it was so tiny that you literally couldn't see it.

That was how big this hole was. I believe this is how The Gopher made his way to our planet. Sure, He could have simply appeared, as many gods do. But I believe that being the entirely unique being He is, that He rode a blazing hot meteor over a century ago to blast a hole into our earth's crust. Believe what you will.

We also got a look at the kind of pod that the practiced re-entering Earth's atmosphere with (aka, this is the test dummy they dropped from a great height into an ocean to make sure people wouldn't die when they dropped onto Earth from space.) That was quite exciting, to say the least, even if it was a prototype that never made it to space.






We got our pictures at the crater, said our goodbyes and went on our merry way.






As we continued on our journey, we both had an intense thirst come upon us. It was jarring, to be sure. Luckily, we came across something that we felt would quench our thirsts. After all, if it was named after polygamists, it must be strong in quantity.




"HOW DARE YOU DISRUPT OUR SLUMBERRRRRR RAWWWWWWWWWWR!!!!!!" Whirling around, The Holy Gopher and his illustrious consort were brought face to face with just what He has wished to come upon us.

Yes, we came across the dinosaurs. A myth brought to life only in your wildest nightmares.




I trembled. He Who Is The Dirt was a match for them, this was sure. But there were so many of them, their teeth vicious, their eyes devoid of any emotion but pure, unerring bloodlust. I dropped to my knees in prayer, giving my all, my everything to my Bic Prophet.




They crowded in and at any moment I was sure that THG would be overtaken. I had a sheer crisis of faith, my friends. How can one gopher vanquish such an army? They would gobble him up in one bite before any of his peace and majesty could be shared with them.




"Silence, vicious monsters." A figure emerged from the shadows. It too towered over the Blessed Rodent and we all watched in baited breath, Human and Reptilian alike. I was shaken, my mouth dry as they weighed each other's gazes.




They embrace! A stricken silence filled the air. I believe I heard the tiniest intake of breath, followed by an awed sob. It was as the gospel said.

"And so it shall be, according to the prophecy, that The Holy Gopher may come across the most powerful of beasts, and the beasts too shall look upon him. They shall look upon him and tremble at his small stature.

And it is then that a King of Beasts shall appear. The Gopher shall offer peace upon his people and the beast shall accept it, their embrace bringing together the strength of nations, the understanding of hope."

A tear rolled down my cheek. And so it was that He Who Digs came upon the pack of dinosaurs and brought them to His Paw, to which they celebrated by performing "A Chorus Line."




They brought us to meet the oldest of dinosaurs, an ancient who they solely knew as Cyril. He had diminshed to nothing but a skull, his teeth powerful and frightening in his skull as he and THG made their introductions. As was the custom, The Gopher took his rightful place above Cyril's head.




Our journey ended not long after that, Arizona giving way to the wild gas prices of California, where highways only exist in the minds of Mapquest and people wonder why you are appalled that they only where their bikini to the grocery store. It was a trip to be remembered, to be admired, watched over by the patron saints Michael and Jason, guided by none other than Him Himself.




For those who are concerned, there will be more Holy Gopher. Never fear. He also has a Twitter you may follow, which you can find here: http://twitter.com/theholygopher

Good evening, gentle readers. May His Paws be upon you.

Furred Blessings,
Steph

The Holy Gopher Pilgrimage: Day Three, PART TWO.

When we continued on our journey, we came upon someone who claimed to be housing Billy The Kid.



The Gopher wanted a picture, for it was He Himself who orchestrated Billy's downfall. I was amazed and oh so humbled to hear of such feats of courage and might. I became so overcome, that I made the Bill Cosby Pudding Cup Face.




I am truly blessed to have been chosen by such a benevolent and yet just god.

It was a long trek yesterday. A day that both me and He Himself will soon forget, I am sure. The vast nothingness spread out in front of us like a plague, further feeding my beliefs that Texas is indeed purgatory. No beginning, no end, just a long, straight path of asphalt and shrubbery. It never wants you to leave. Much like Hotel California, but with out the whores and fine alcohol.

Soon, we came across a native of the lands. He was red of skin, a feather in his thick, black hair. He knew of THG, of his majesty and wished for us to follow him. The native explained to us he knew of somewhere we could roam free, a place free of blank voids.

His name...was Running Indian.




We both apologized for the poos man's oversimplified existence and horror-inducing name. It seemed that although both I, the emissary, and He, The One Who Watches From The Ground, were happy for a distraction and change of scenery, that we must tread lightly in order to leave this place alive.




We wove in and other of the labyrinthine displays of shot glasses and turquoise, our minds sharpening to alert ourselves to any imminent danger. It was clear that this place was no normal shop.




It seemed that those found to be enemies of this land was turned to bronze, much like the dozen Jesuses from Cross Land. But the difference here was that instead of a story, there was no rhyme or reason to the statues. A young boy frozen looking into a fountain with his dog as a ball is for some reason plopped in the middle. A gigantic dolphin cresting through a wave, 8 ft tall and designed for indoor or outdoor use.




Even a poor cowboy pulling a mime's rope. Where was the other end? Only the Gopher knows.




Where they chilis? Were they cowboy boots? For this one, the Gopher needed a moment of contemplation.

Finally we came upon a strange sight, even among this amalgum of horrors.




It was clear our time at the Store That Time Forgot. The Gopher paid his respects to the majestic animal...




And we ventured off.




That concluded our day in New Mexico, the sun setting over the foothills of Arizona. A day filled with dying Jesi, crosses made of aluminum siding, and dizzying Native American stereotypes.




It was a day that will live in on in our hearts, in our minds, in our spirits. A day of accomplishment. A day of peace.

May you all sleep well, dear followers.

Feeder Bottles and Foraging,
Steph

P.S. I will leave you with this thought to ponder though, beloved readers.

What is a Hay Fart?