Taylor Swift Is A Psycho
Before I begin, let me just say that I like Taylor Swift. I mean, how can you not? She’s so sweet! You practically become diabetic in her presence. Last year, I spent an entire week soaking in bath salts (the non-cannibal kind) listening to “Enchanted” on repeat. I was obsessed.
That being said, I also think she’s a complete psycho. Today news broke that her and her high school boyfriend, Conor Kennedy split, after the two had quite the whirlwind summer romance. Her dreams of becoming a modern Jackie Oh My God! have now been dashed, dashed all to hell!
But really, are we even that surprised things didn’t work out? Since entering our public consciousness, Taylor has become known as being a serial dater. She’s been linked to Jonas Brother, John Mayer, Jake Gyllenhaal, and each relationship seems to only last up to six months. In a recent interview with Rolling Stone, Taylor even admitted that she hasn’t had a relationship that’s lasted longer than nine months. In her songs, she continually paints herself as the victim. She’s a young girl at the mercy of a cruel older man! But, I mean, Conor Kennedy was barely old enough to drive a car, so what’s really going on here? Could it be that Taylor is really the crazy one?
What I find so interesting about the love life of Taylor Swift is that it’s so public. And not just because she’s a celebrity and people are naturally interested in the dating habits of the stars. No, her career depends on her getting laid and having her heart broken. That’s what 99% of her songs are about. If we don’t know who she’s sleeping with, what else is there to really know about her? It’s practically her job to always be in love with someone.
I have this image of Taylor Swift as being this young, earnest, insanely rich pop star who just meets guys and becomes instantly obsessed with them. Like, she’s introduced to a crush and five minutes later, she’s somehow texting him from across the room being like, “where r u where r u where r u? I feel distant!”
Her love life is seen as even being more extreme because she’s just so damn rich. Remember when Taylor bought the house across the street from the Kennedy’s just so she could be closer to Conor? This was, like after a MONTH of dating him. She just went and bought a house so she could be his next door neighbor. CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT LOGIC? I would’ve of loved to have heard that conversation go down. “Sweetie,” Taylor cooed to Conor on the phone during a break from his Algebra class. “Guess who’s your new next door neighbor?! IT’S ME IT’S ME IT’S ME. I’m actually here right now in your childhood home sitting with your grandmother and I just signed the paperwork! MAMA’S MOVING IN!” Most people keep simple mementos from past relationships. A piece of jewelry, a mixed tape. Taylor, on the other hand, keeps mansions.
There’s also that #dark and hilarious story of Taylor having a private jet pick Conor up from boarding school and flying him to wherever she was. This is why you shouldn’t give romantic psychos a ton of money. They’ll just do stupid things like buy property and send a jet to retrieve their boyfriend. Taylor has clearly never heard of Skype before.
Now that the two have broken up, what’s Taylor going to do with the house? Is she going to move into it anyway and stalk the Kennedy’s driveway late at night while singing “WE’RE NEVER EVER EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER”? I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Becoming fixated on a Kennedy usually results in having a “tragic accident” or an “accidental” overdose. It’s best to just cut your losses, blow up the Cape Cod house, and run fast.
Go now, Taylor. Go and never look back. Don’t worry, you’ll find love again. It’s in your contract.
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If you’ve been looking for a chance to say something then this very well could be it.
I wish to God I’d had a list like this when I was 23.
Answer phones better than anyone else has answered phones before. Relay messages so brilliant, they bring people to tears. Turn the coffee run into the choreography of Swan Lake. Become best friends with every intern and every underling and every taxi driver you encounter.
I remember taking the pen and notebook from that woman outside the courtroom, flipping to a clean page in the book, and writing, JESSICA IS SAD in big, bold, uncoordinated letters. “My sister is going to be a good writer someday! Look at how nice her lines are!”