“Billionaire tortured poet deserves better than dysregulated toxic masculinity from sexy millionaire boyfriend throwing tantrums when he is struggling to (inevitably) win the sportsball game” but then again so does Palestine.

Palestine also deserves better right now.

I’ll never forget Travis Kelse (KCC #87) bellowing “VIVA LAS VEGAS” into the microphone and then bending down to give Taylor Swift a great big we-just-won-the-superb-owl victory kiss. I’m still dying to know what she whispered in his ear that was so important that she flew all the way from Tokyo to Vegas in her private jet just to tell him, after all the cameras in that stadium spent a solid couple of hours watching her watching him win the darned thing.

Still can’t fathom why so many scruffy old men don’t like when the camera keeps switching over to Taylor literally just having a good time in the stands when they’re “trying to watch football, did not come here to watch a pretty woman on the TV, now if you would please direct the camera back to the large muscular men in tight pants physically tackling each other with as much force as humanly possible and then huddling together to tell secrets before each play that would be great thank you…”

That was a phenomenal football game.  I love watching millionaires throwing a laced up cowhide leather prolate spheriod back and forth and wondering when I’ll have healthcare again. Um.

The emotional tension in that stadium was palpable, especially when the score was tied when the clock ran out and the game extended into overtime and the Kansas City defense pulled through in the end. You could feel the prayers of millions of Taylor Swift fans bending space and time to secure a win for the Kansas City Chiefs and leave the San Francisco 49er’s in the dust, but the teams were so well matched. Patrick Mahomes (#15 KCC) sure can throw a football. And so can gifted baby rookie NFL quarterback Brock Purdy (#13 SF49), from whom we all expect great things. He can also throw a football.

I still feel like if #87 is ever going to be worthy of Taylor Swift, he needs to stop screaming at his coach with all of the ferocity his bruised ego can command, all those goosebumps the fragile fear of losing badly in front of everyone can bring to the surface of his character. Learn some basic emotional regulation skills and count to ten, my brother, because she is much too precious for that temper of yours.

Although – to be fair, if you mess up and hurt her feelings, she’s definitely going to write a song about it. And it’s going right to the top of the charts.

That one woman can be obscenely wealthy and also a tortured poet, a talented performer and a gifted songwriter, look that stunning in a long flowing dress and red lipstick and also be such a graceful conversationalist, have a healthy streak of the toxic feminine to strike back at her haters and also carry the strength of her own value system, shamelessly fall in love with 13 consecutive men who were publically known as her boyfriends and not the other way around, be an outspoken feminist who also flys around in a private jet, love her mom and dad and little brother and never stay in any one city for too long… I am in awe. She is an iconic success at 34 years old. She gave up the privacy of a quiet life in exchange for a life of fame and she still opens up the vulnerable pages of her diary for everyone to read and I admire that.

I don’t think she works for the CIA. I think her power manifests at a much more fundamental level than any government agency. She has the rare influence of the deeply beloved. Taylor Swift is a goddess who’s dating a guy on a football team because she fucking wants to.

Everybody has a celebrity crush, I suppose, and she’s always been mine. Since the lyrics and portrait photos in the booklet for the CD case of the Fearless album, in 2010. I still know all the words.