By now, we’re all aware that Taylor Swift broke up with Conor Kennedy a month ago. It was a beautiful relationship full of passion, love and age jokes, but it’s finished. The relationship is finished, not the age jokes. But this is no time for us potential Taylor Swift suitors to be sitting around making those jokes. We need to jump on this opportunity to sweep her off her feet because it’s only a matter of time before she does the same to another 12-year-old.
So I’m not wasting anymore time. As I’ve mentioned before, my sister is getting married next October. I need a date. The only problem is I’ve never spoken to a woman. I get too nervous. By the time, I’ve built up the courage to talk to one I’ve already vomited on myself and soiled my undershorts. And they judge me for that. I think they should be flattered. “Oh, you wet yourself because you think I’m so beautiful. How sweet!” But they don’t see it that way.
Maybe Taylor Swift would though. She’s always been a champion of the underdog, not to mention the under-aged. When she sees a shy boy who can’t build up the courage to talk to a beautiful girl, she doesn’t see a loser. She sees herself.
As the first sentence I’ve ever uttered romantically to the other sex, I’d like to say, “Taylor Swift, will you go to my sister’s wedding with me.” That was difficult. I’m pretty sure I crapped my pants. But if that’s a game changer, then I will learn to control my bowels because I honestly want her to come to this wedding.
Obviously, there are many problems to overcome here. Namely that Taylor Swift doesn’t know that I exist on this planet. Or any planet for that matter. It would be pretty weird if Taylor Swift didn’t know of Earth’s Harry Barron, but was well aware of Mars’s Harry Barron. Who, by the way, is a total dick.
So, first, my devoted readership, this article needs to go viral. You need to read, then tweet, then retweet, then Facebook status update, then direct message, then snail mail, then pony express, then Pinterest, then chisel and tablet this article. Leave no stone unturned. Meaning, if you have to, tape this article to a stone and throw it through her window. If enough people share this article, it might get to Taylor Swift.
Then, the rest will be left up to me. I’ll have to woe Taylor Swift.
First, I’ll overwhelm her with my stunning, marble-sculpted facial features. Then, I’ll wow her with my humility. After that, I’ll pretend like I didn’t make two statutory rape jokes about her 400 words ago. Then, I’ll lie to her and tell her that that stuff about me defecating my pants wasn’t true. Next, I’ll lie and tell her I’m not a liar. After which, she’ll be smitten with how honest I am.
My winning personality and appearance might not be enough. My life story might be though. I know I’m not a celebrity or a Kennedy, but I was really terrible at high school football. Judging by her music, that’s the most attractive quality a guy can have. I mean, I was truly awful. Like never-played-a-down atrocious. How hot is that, Taylor Swift? I played two downs and threw two interceptions. Is that too sexy, Taylor Swift? I would have noticed you had you been in the bleachers wearing t-shirts because I never did anything during the games.
We have to make this happen, people who read this column. If I can’t go with Taylor, I won’t go with anyone at all. Plus, there are so many upsides. It’s a wedding she’s actually invited to, and most importantly, I’m 23.
(Photo: Hall/Pena, PacificCoastNews.com)