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Another Open Letter to Taylor Swift

By Courtney Enlow | Celebrity | January 22, 2013 |

By Courtney Enlow | Celebrity | January 22, 2013 |


Dear Taylor,

Trick, PLEASE, you are not.

xoxo, Courtskies

Okay, fine, I can give you more than that. But I’m not happy about it. BECAUSE IT’S WHAT SHE WANTS, YOU GUYS.

So, apparently, according to Radar, my super totes BFF forever/mortal enemy Taylor Swift is “mortified” by the amount of attention she gets for her love life.

Let’s all take a quick laugh break at that sentence.






Oh, wait. I mean…


Because, Tay Tay, you are not amused by this. You are certainly not and would never cash in on gossip and attention like this, like some whorey brunette or something. You are adorable, after all.


And deep.


So deep. Right, Andrew?


So, clearly you would never stoop to using your love life to gain traction and attention. You’re just speaking your truth. THAT’S JUST WHO YOU ARE. You are a unique snowflake and, dammit, you’re just waiting for your perfect fancy prince.

Look, people who are pulling the “slut” word nonsense because you’ve had a bunch of boyfriends, that’s stupid. Particularly since at least five of them have been plagued by gay rumors for the majority of their careers, meaning there’s a high likelihood that those relationships were about as sexual as John Travolta’s and Kelly Preston’s. That’s not the point here. Date whoever you want, whenever you want, as much as you want. Get it, gurl.


You have devoted your career thus far to writing sadsack songs about sadsack love based on true stories, complete with hidden codes in your liner notes so that fans can figure out exactly who you’re talking about. You’ve let us in, whether we’ve wanted in or not. So you’re not upset that people are talking about this. At the very minimum, with the most supreme benefits of the doubt, you are mad at the direction of the story, that you’re looking more “beardy stalker” and less like the virginal Charlotte of your lunch table you’ve been trying to market yourself as. Putting aside what a potentially damaging image that is for your fans (“if a boy doesn’t like you, it’s because of some other girl who has lots of the sex, and definitely has nothing to do with you and has even less to do with him, because boys who don’t like you just haven’t realized your unique snowflakeness yet, not that they’re just not fucking into you and you shouldn’t waste time on them anyway, because that would be crazy. SIT OUTSIDE HIS WINDOW AND READ HIM YOUR HORSE POETRY.”) it’s fake. It’s phony. You know it.

YOU DATED JOHN MAYER, GIRLFRIEND. You’ve got some dirty to you. I want to see that Taylor. Not this one. This one is boring.

And, for the record, Michael J. Fox was a saint for calling you, and probably only did it so your dick fans would stop making threatening Parkinson’s-related comments on Twitter about him daring to speak ill of you. Bunch of whiny little butthurts, I tell you.

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