You know how sometimes you narrate your life like a young adult novel? “That was the summer Penny first fell in love…”
Work with me here. Just roll with it. Because this summer’s opening lines are fantastic. “That was the summer Katie Holmes left Tom Cruise and surprised us all by being a media ninja…That was the summer K. Stew cheated on R. Patz with a married director by making out him in broad daylight in her Mini Cooper…That was the summer Prince Harry got caught on camera naked in Las Vegas cupping his balls…”
That was the summer Taylor Swift was dating a Kennedy who was still in boarding school, and bought a $5 million dollar house across the street from his family, and together they crashed his cousin’s wedding, and then she sent a private plane from Nashville to pick him up and bring him to her the very first week he was back at school because she missed him so much.
(You can catch up on all the dirt here over at Lainey Gossip.)
Basically a poster for Grease 3: Summer Lovin’ Remixed Styles
Look, I don’t like Taylor Swift. Her songs are basically all retellings of the plot line from She’s All That. Which means she’s just encouraging girls to think that asshat from their high school is suddenly going to turn out to be super sweet, romantic, deep, and into nerdy girls. Buying into this requires buying into the idea that T. Swift was unpopular and “unpretty” in high school. Hahahaha!
Ok, say she was. She certainly hasn’t been for the last ten years. How long do you get to keep playing that card when you’re wearing couture and dating celebrities?
Also she slept with John Mayer. Post-Jessica Simpson, and post-his-super-skeevy-interview-about-post-Jessica-Simpson. And then she’s all “how could you do that to me, I’m so young” in her song? Girl, please!
Do you think nerdy kids ever grow up and have cool kids? I don’t mean cool like, “wow that kid can hang.” I mean cool like… “those effing ‘cool’ kids made my life miserable in grades K-12.”
I had this sudden fear today that I’ll give birth to Regina George, and she’ll terrorize me just by existing, and I’ll be hiding in the kitchen drinking wine and whispering what have we done to her father, and he’ll hang up the phone and call the police. Because, obviously. You’re not supposed to contact your anonymous sperm donor. And there’s no way in heaven or hell I’ll end up with anyone capable of producing such genetic material.
On a sidenote, I’m going to a toga party – bbq – campout – wedding reception this weekend! And next weekend I’ve got a wedding in California! What are all these people doing getting married. I could not be more single right now. Unless you’re someone I used to date, in which case, let me send you this picture of an ABC Family Original movie star and hope you don’t recognize him.
I said something to my sister today about how I wanted to date up — you know, like date above my level, like how Taylor Swift is dating a Kennedy. (Or maybe like how a Kennedy is dating Taylor Swift?) Her suggestion? “Better start dating then.” I mean, really.
We’re talking about expanding this blog to include an advice column by her. Since she tells me how to live my life, I figure she might as well do the same for all of you.
PS — I’ll write more about Taylor Swift next week. I have a lot of thoughts. A lot of feelings. I know you care. I’ll share.
Why are boots & shorts together such a skanky look? Something about boots & shorts just screams hot-to-trot. Is it because of Daisy Dukes?
Is that it? That is one powerful pair of cut-off shorts. I mean, really. Just impressive. I hope that’s in the zeitgeist hall of fame. At the top of denim’s resume. Shortlisted for a Nobel.
Next in line to be a UN Ambassador, right after La Jolie finishes her reign.
Boots. Shorts. Shorts. Boots. Boots & shorts. Puss & boots. Shorts are for the summer months. Boots are for the winter months.
(Somehow boots & skirts/dresses just don’t have quite that same RAWR factor, you know?)
Because I know I’m at my sexiest when I’m wearing stinky socks and my feet have been sweating all day.
Someone invented a plugin that substitutes all the baby picz on your Fazebook with picturez of catz and bacon. (And half-naked women? I think they should pump up that angle.)
STOP THE WAR, PEOPLE. IT’S NOT FAIR —–
…to me. My parents won’t let me bring home stray cats OR stray babies. Not even stray men in tuxes!
You guys are killing me.