Taylor Swift’s world tour marketed to 12 year old chicks and incompetent fathers is basically a classier and less rapey version of one of those roofless celebrity watching vans that patrol the streets of Hollywood looking for discarded bakery items and a guy who looks like Jeff Daniels. Was that him? Or a dentist. Maybe it was Bill Pullman. Fuck it when is Disneyland I’ve got to blow half my salary to prove the kids love me. Even the fat one. To date Swift has paraded the following celebrity guests on stage with her: Selena Gomez, Justin Timberlake, Ryan Tedder, Ellen DeGeneres, Kobe Bryant, Natalie Maines, Lisa Kudrow, Uzo Aduba, Alanis Morisette, John Legend, Beck, St Vincent, Mary J Blige, Chris Rock, Matt LeBlanc, and Mark Hamill.
For perspective on how ridiculous this is, only Hamill was a joke. Clearly there’s a pecking order. When’s Indianapolis, let’s chopper in Emilio Estevez. We can’t get him? Howie Mandel. We can’t get him, Dave Thomas. He’s dead? Chris Kattan. Tell Springsteen we had to cancel, we just confirmed Eli Manning. Are you paying these people and how many of these songs have you rehearsed? Is this about the music or about sight gags for an otherwise unwatchable show? Will people remember any of your songs or is the water cooler talk purely LeBlanc? What the fuck is happening? Nice body type though.
The ‘hey, look who’s here tonight’ guest singers list at Taylor Swift events has picked up to about thirty per evening. It’s been stale since Bruce Springsteen pulled Courteney Cox up on stage in the 80′s pretending she was plucked out of the crowd. Taylor Swift’s latest show featured duets with Selena Gomez, the both of them dressed in your grandpa’s vintage underwear lest you get a PG-rated boner, Lisa Kudrow singing Smelly Cat, Barbara Streissand crooning The Way We Were through a mic in her vagina, and the corpse of Liberace telling Taylor Swift she doesn’t need a man to be happy. And lots of strutting. The audience is filled with screaming young girls and their dads wondering if for $300 they’re going to get anything measurably decent for their spank bank. It’s a circus of tears and lip-synched shame that brings in half a million a night. Okay, the boots are nice. Deposit.
When I was in high school feminism had a voice in the screechy pissed off songs of Alanis Morissette. When Alanis joined Taylor Swift of all people on stage to sing “You Oughta Know” I think she’s pretty much given up. We won, guys.
Taylor Swift posted her first Instagram with her new boyfriend Calvin Harris, the modern day equivalent of commitment. It used to be anal on your wedding night. We’re living in strange times. Harris is a Scottish guy who found moderate success as a performer and record producer and has since moved onto being a DJ, proving he sucked at the other things. Being a DJ entails treacherous work such as having to press play on an iPod and occasionally smell buttons which were touched by Paris Hilton. You also have to learn how to wear one headphone and bob your head out of synch. It’s akin to chewing gum and walking at the same time except you make a hundred grand a show for reasons which will never fully be explained but people on drugs sometimes lack judgement. It seems like they’re having a good time and I wish them luck. Who’s going to be the first one to get drunk and fuck the pool toy?
If you’re thinking Taylor Swift looks like the submissive girlfriend then you’re falling into the same demon hole this poor Scottish fuck is currently descending. His name is Adam, he calls himself Calvin and he’s at the forefront of electroclash music whatever the hell that musical abortion is.
Through all his DJ equipment and Casio keyboard plugins Calvin can’t see the bear trap that is the Taylor Swift vagina. I think I’ll just slide myself into… SNAP! Fuck! Four days later the morphine drip wears off and you wake up in a hospital checking out the haggis that used to be your cock as a hit song plays on the radio calling you an asshole. Household cleaners come with multiple bold letter warnings. Girlfriends come with jack shit. This is called natural selection. Second base is the furthest from home. There is no analogy in cricket. You’re already dead.