Taylor Swift, You Are Annoying Me Right Now.
I have not been my best self lately. There is a lot of misappropriated anger in my life. The anger has conjured up images of slapping a puggle or rolling my grandmother down a hill in a garbage can. That’s some messed up shit.
And it’s all T-Swift’s fault.
Taylor, you are annoying me so much right now. You are not even regular amounts of annoying, you are full-on roll-me-through-a-pasta-machine-while-jack-hammering-concrete-and-everyone-speaking-Vietnamese-loudly-in-a-sweaty-barn kind of annoying right now. I am annoyed for reasons that run deep, girl. I am GRAND CANYON annoyed with you.
Taylor and I are similar beasts in the sense of origin. We are a year apart in age. Both of us started out as angsty, awkward, lanky, love sick teenagers. Tay Tay’s Love Story, and the whole Fearless album for that matter, got me through some tough, tough times. Like, the absolute toughest and saddest: two week relationships and the subsequently eating of a whole pie of pizza.
But then something happened.
I became self-aware. Hello, my name’s crazy, nice to meet you. I am a self-aware crazy person. You can’t fall in love in two weeks. You can’t eat a whole pizza. You can’t wear a goddamn princess dress and no shoes and run through the woods to your prince charming in a castle and NOT GET ANY ANT BITES. That doesn’t happen. And by 21, I realized that, and started hiding my crazy and faking being a normal person. And so did everyone else. Because we live on planet earth.
This epiphany occurred in 2010.
That’s when Swiftmeister put out Speak Now, which don’t get me wrong is so dash-gum catchy, golly gee. But like, for real, T-rminator? The same lyrics and thought processes as Fearless? It’s never your fault? You never saw it coming? You don’t know why he doesn’t love you when you’ve never spoken? But I digress. At this point, I’m still rooting for you. Because people can just be mean (arguably the catchiest/most poisonous of the singles), and I don’t want to hate on you. Yet.
Why hello 2012!
Look at me living my life as a faux-adult and writing about it on my blog ironically! I have a job, I avoid looking crazy at all costs except when vodka is involved, and I maintain some sense of a limited reality. And I’d like to think I have a more cosmopolitan view of the world and can think and act more….creatively. But Taybot on the other hand. W.T. Effing. Fudge?
The Red Album? Hump a goat and name it Anne of Green Gables, you’ve got to be kidding me, girl!
How could you even think about putting out Red, which is a musical diary entry about all your haters (who are apparently all 15 year old boys) and your inability to find true love via three casual lunch dates. You are not Robin Williams in the Bicentennial Man. I should not have to explain these concepts of human relationships to you, Tay-Tron. Lighten up, girl! Smoke a cig. Take a shot. Get laid yesterday. And stop that. You know, that: Everything you’re doing.
I do not hate you, Swaylor.
But you are on my last nerve. We are never, ever, ever getting back together. Or until my boyfriend plays his ipod. [We’ve been dating two weeks, and we are getting married tomorrow!]