This Shit is Seriously On

It was a Christmas miracle. My girl, Taylor Swift, finally stopped toying with that dickbag from Twilight, who happens to have her name, over the Holidays (which I just consider the entire month of December). Now, my courtship of the hottest woman to grace God’s green Earth can begin in earnest.

“Sources” indicate Taylor [mine] was not so hot to trot on wolfie from the get go, ultimately citing a lack of maturity for the split. This is after the poor guy bought her DIAMOND EARRINGS for her birthday. Sucka!!!!

Of course I saw this coming; like I was really sweating the advances of this child, please. I knew my gracious, witty and composed crush could only gaze into the vapid stare of this Hollywood manufactured computer desktop model for so long before she realized she needed a true man to tame her wild yet loving heart. Now, I will give it to the kid, after roiding up on HGH and spending six hours having makeup artists airbrush his stomach, the kid’s got a good look to him. That’s pretty much the only thing I will concede this closeted GED earning twerp. The rest, well, allow me to lay out exactly WHY I am the best thing for Taylor Swift.

MATURITY.

Give me a fucking break, I have this in spades. Now, at 25 years young, I know I don’t have the world figured out, but I’ve got some perspective and I know what matters. I’ve been around the block a few times and I’m a realist. I can handle Taylor’s rigorous touring schedule, demands of fans and press engagements. I can tactfully handle questions lobbed my way with my humor, which, is awesome. I can handle the prospect of cozying up with her in a hammock overlooking a dewy meadow in rural Tennessee only a few times a month, and I can maintain my monogamy in her absence. I love my family, I know money isn’t everything, and this leads me to my favorite saying, that life is all about the stories you can tell. Well, little lady, I’ve been through quite a bit, some would say. I’ve caught a foul ball at a baseball game before. I’ve met Thomas Lennon. I’ve smoked weed in some pretty cool places. Oh, plus I’m no dud in the sack.

MY OWN SHIT GOING ON.

Well, first of all, your reading my semi-regular once weekly Blog post, so that should shut you up right there. But I’ve got all sorts of shit going on to occupy me when she’s out on tour singing or healing blind preschoolers. A little thing called the iO West Sketch Cagematch? Regional car insurance and stuffed pizza commercials? Writing awesome scripts for movies and then not showing them to anybody? I can keep myself busy no problem. Plus, I can just go to a shitload more White Sox and Blackhawks games, I mean, if she wanted to maybe give me a birthday present along those lines…

THE ABILITY TO HANDLE HER OUTRAGEOUS POPULARITY.

Listen toots, I know I’m the one begging you for a cup of coffee date on a sparsely circulated comedy blog, but I’m kind of hot shit as it is. You’re looking at a two-time District Spelling Bee Champion. I had a write up on me in the IU student newspaper AND an alumni newsletter. My self-righteous but also self-effacing facebook page has over 300 fans. Paul Straw almost was me for Halloween. I can handle the spotlight, and it’s only going to be getting brighter for me and you, US, Taylor…and I want you there for that. Don’t think I’m scared of a couple flashbulbs and stalkers, I’ve been the hottest shit in town for quite some time already. Oh, and I don’t look half bad, either.

NOT BEING HER EXES.

This one’s easy, but still important. I can’t be broken in half with a half-hearted sneeze like whichever one of those virgin brothers she briefly looked at, and rather than relying on my superhuman abs to book roles, I possess a relative amount of acting talent. Plus, I don’t recall any tracks, on her albums, youtube or imports, where the boy is named John.

WHAT WILL THE PRESS SAY?

Baby girl don’t care about the press, but I’ve thought about it. No one will believe she’s into me, online campaigns will spring up in favor of some other Disney man-boy she held hands with once on accident, everybody will be hitting on her nonstop because they’ll vastly underestimate me. But I think it will be great. “Look, she really is a normal girl, finding love with a normal guy!” And since Taylor is a country artist, my rugged, at times hard-drinking, blue collar appeal will make her even more of an All-American darling. Oh I can see it now, her pulling me onstage to croon through “Alcohol” with Brad Paisley at Country Thunder. What will the press say? I’ll handle this one, Tay. FUCK YOU PRESS, HAVE YOU SEEN MY GIRLFRIEND?!?!?!?!?!

A SOFTER, POSSIBLY SPIRITUAL and/or ARTISTIC SIDE.

Now, it might take Taylor a little getting used to my sense of humor, I can’t see her loving some of my sketches like “Body Fucker” or “Rape Tunnel,” but she’ll come around. And the fact that I’m not a singer or an actor, but a comedian, instantly makes me adorable. My charm, my crooked smile, my wild unbroken Bronco spirit, my darker ominous side…this shit is at least three or four albums worth of lyrical content.

Look, I could go on and on here…and while this of course is an attempt to get a few laughs, I’m also completely serious about this. I’ve been in L.A. for a few years now, things are looking up and the “big break” is around the corner. We are going to be crossing paths, we are going to be collaborating. I will be referenced in her liner notes by a cutesy nickname. But I can’t wait for that. I want a song written about my blue eyes now, and more importantly, I want a relationship I can actually commit to, cherish and adore. So Taylor, forgive the sarcastic jokes, and maybe settle for a nice meal and conversation instead of DIAMOND EARRINGS, and take a chance on a really great guy. I’ll be hiking in Runyon Canyon early Saturday morning, and performing at the iO West at 10PM Sunday night. Come on out. I’ll even sneak you a sip of beer.

Druska