Metaphysical Vagina: My Two Steves (Happy Father’s Day from Court)

This episode of Metaphysical Vagina is about Steve Martin.

DUH. Right? Big mutherfuckin’ DUH.

Of COURSE Steve Martin is an inspiration and OF COURSE he would be featured as one of our first Metaphysical Vaginas because he plays banjo. And he’s a comedian. A comedian that plays banjo. Isn’t that so obvious?

Maybe what isn’t obvious (and still might not be) is THIS:



I do my little turn on the catwalk.

And this? Is MY FATHER!!!


And my mom. Cute, huh?

No, I’m not saying that Steve Martin is my father (or my mother), but he is definitely my soul brother and part of that reason is because he has always reminded me of my dad.  WHOSE NAME IS ALSO STEVE.

Technically, my dad’s name is Stephen (three guesses on the last name and that’ll explain why a lot of people thought I was Steve McQueen’s daughter. Not really, but kind of). But everyone calls him Steve, except for my mother, who usually says it like this: “STEE-VVENN!” I guess you should hear it. This one time we were at Round Table Pizza in Yorba Linda off Lakeview and YL Blvd and my father didn’t want to give them his real name for them to shout when our pizza was ready because he knew that they’d shorten it to Steve and there would be 5 other Steves there. So he told them his name was Nigel.  That’s my dad.

Growing up, my father had Steve Martin records and I knew the song “King Tut” by heart by the time I was 9 or something. Which I guess isn’t that impressive. I think someone I knew danced to the song in a dance recital once. My father would also do impressions of Steve Martin (and Andy Kaufman, and the Monty Python dudes) so I became familiar with his comedy that way too.

So, in the grand collective unconscious in which we wade, My Two Steves collided and bestowed upon me with the very twisted and demented sense of humor you have hopefully grown to love.  I know my father has a little bit of a hard time with his daughter singing about blow jobs, etc, but well, I don’t know what you could have done differently, Dad! In my humble opinion, I think you did it all right.

Happy Father’s Day to you, Steves!


The False Idol: Mr. Martin gets the bedroom wall… my dad gets the fridge.


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