Kansas City

It’s not “ha, wouldn’t want to date Taylor Swift because she airs her dirty laundry in the lyrics of her pop songs and she might write a breakup album alluding to the intimate details of our relationship,” it’s

“cheers to this fucking genius of a lyricist who takes all of the complex anguish she experiences in her relationships, all the pain she feels when those relationships end, translates that sadness into words, puts those words to music in a way that makes her music into medicine because with every masterpiece of a song, literally millions of other people who are hurting will listen to those songs, and hear what she’s saying in a way that only she can say them, and it – makes the pain easier, because if a song resonates with so many people then that must mean we aren’t alone. So many other people have felt this way, too. And we lived through that.

And so anyway you can probably tell how I feel about her 66th annual Grammy’s announcement about her next album, which is called Tortured Poets Department.

I hope what’s his name, the tight end for the Kansas City Chiefs, is worthy of her. I hope he wins the goddamn Superbowl. If she stays with him, if he runs out onto the field at the end of the game and all the cameras are on them and he asks her to marry him and she says yes, then I hope they’re genuinely happy. If she doesn’t stay with him – I hope she makes the grief of seperation into beautiful art.

I just want to see the boyfriend of the most important woman in the NFL win this fucking sportsball game.


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