Eve Eve

My parents are currently packed in a Volvo en route from Long Island with my dog and my sister. I bet there is a lot of laughter and snorting going on amongst all involved parties. We are having dinner at Kingswood tonight which arguably has the best hamburger and cutest bartenders in New York. Happy 2010 losers!

Girl Crush

Some kooky stylist decided to put pinecone horns on Lily Allen's head for a Russian Harper's Bazaar shoot and turns out: awesome. I love British girls like Lily and Sienna Miller who surprise people by saying things like slag and ripping butts because they are pretty. So much more interesting than just being pretty (not you Amy Winehouse!).

It's...Not Complicated

Ugh, I’m just going to say it. I really didn’t like It’s Complicated as much as we’re all apparently supposed to. I tried really hard. Because after all Alec Baldwin is in it and he’s dead genius. He pretty much carried the movie for me as did John Krasinski’s gleeful moments of comic relief. I’m also aware that this is Nancy Meyers’ milieu, and I enjoy a sprinkling of her when it’s 3 p.m. on a Sunday and I feel like looking at a questionably tan Jude Law traipse around the English countryside with a questionably coordinated Cameron Diaz. But. Enough with all the white people and the bucolic settings! Or at least keep the white bucolicness and ditch the smiling happy jumpy siblings who-after spending an entire movie lighting candles and hugging-stay up late not to drink and smoke, but to play BOARD GAMES.

Beautiful Losers

I stumbled upon the documentary film Beautiful Losers because there was nothing on TV and I'd already resorted to watching G.I. Joe on demand. It's about a group of artists who came together at the now defunct Alleged Gallery on NYC's Lower East Side. Alleged curator Aaron Rose directed it and boy, what I would have done to hang out there. Rose has since gone on to accomplish a laundry list of enviable creative endeavors and I wish more people cared about stuff like this. For some reason makes me think of another documentary from a few years ago: Rising Son, the biopic of badass skateboarder Christian Hosoi. Wacky people doing things a bit differently. Always puts a smile on my face.

Love It

I was just working out and listening to Fifty Cent's "Hate It Or Love It," which is a song I never get sick of. Just thinking about how good it is and how Fitty made so much money on that watered down purple Vitamin Water. And then I get home and open up the new issue of Us Weekly to find that Mr. Cent himself is the subject of this week's "25 Things You Don't Know About Me," which is Us Weekly's loss and the reader's gain. Because what the hell and also, AMAZING. Just a few gemstones of information he's throwin' our way in order of awesomeness and...you're welcome.

-"I eat very healthy. I eat enough turkey and egg whites to feed a small village." (#1)

-(later followed by the requisite) "I eat ketchup on everything." (#14)

-"My mental space is occasionally interrupted by a lust demon." (#5)

-"I now buy the trophies that I should have won." (#25)

-"I have a dog named Oprah." (#7)

-"I want to date a blind woman so she can see me exactly the way I want her to." (#17)

-(and, my personal favorite) "I don't like women who drink before noon." (#24)

Awards Season Part I

Every year around this time I begin my mad dash to see pretty much every notable movie in the running for a Globe or SAG or most likely an Oscar as well. This year Sherlock Holmes is at the top of my list but sh*t's not out yet. So I defer to It's Complicated, which-oh right-ISN'T OUT EITHER. Nine looks like a fun, albeit probably overrated option. And still. We've been hearing about all three of these movies for maybe eight years now, but they're not coming out for another few days. So I got myself jazzed up about Up In The Air because a.) it looks less harrowing than Brothers and b.) I thought it might actually be a quality film. Which it was. But woah depression. I get depressed just looking at the word Omaha let alone spending 90 or so minutes imagining a single 48-year-old man living there in an all-white one bedroom apartment and also firing people for a living. And I saw Anna Kendrick on David Letterman (I think) and she was charming and all but the characters she plays are dead infuriating. On the fence about this one.

Love Bug

Kevin Jonas, the oldest of the Jo Bros and arguably the fugliest, got married this weekend at a castle on Long Island and there is your punchline, folks. Being from Long Island, I am allowed to take more shots at it than the average person (which means A LOT), and I'm just going to say anything that calls itself a castle, yet is located on Long Island, is def a ranch style house with a $10 million addition and a whole lot of chandeliers. Add to that the fact that she is a "former hairdresser from New Jersey" and they met "while on vacation in the Bahamas" (I'm going to take a wild guess and say...Atlantis) and you've got yourself the next episode of "Jersey Shore," minus the t-shirt shop jobs but with more hair extensions.

Hey Now

I found this advertisement on the back of an issue of Country Living from 1998. Lest anyone judge, I am "home for the holidays" and surrounded by pretty much every single issue of that magazine + House Beautiful from 1978 until present day. Thankfully there really are few things more awesome than Kenny Rogers, no less Kenny Rogers hawking a fragrance from Elizabeth Taylor whilst wearing a black turtleneck sweater. I complain about my mother's pack rat tendencies on a
regular basis, but this discovery just bought her a solid year of leniency.

Come On

"Did You Hear About The Morgans?," a romantic comedy starring Sarah Jessica Parker and Hugh Grant, opens today and I'm so glad there's someone coming up with some new ideas in Hollywood.

Warmth

Today it is NEGATIVE ZERO outside and I am dreaming of this coat. Amazingness courtesy of Norma Kamali. Someone please send me $650 to buy it.

Oh Well

This is how gullible I am. Jet Blue has a weird/semi-genius-but-confusing-if-you-are-gullible new marketing campaign called "The Flyers Collection" featuring faux products for peeps who fly other airlines. Except I thought the products were REAL and I became infuriated by them, until I realized...oh, they're not. And now: boy I am dumb.

Thicke's Shtick

I can’t deal with Robin Thicke. His new album is called “Sex Therapy.” I mean seriously? The only time a title of that nature would have ever been even remotely controversial or titillating would be 1987, back when George Michael ALREADY did it. Also, he’s always wearing black button down shirts with maybe one button done, so that’s enough of that.

Desperate Measures

Oh wow Ashley Dupre is the new advice columnist at the New York Post, a factoid that manages to be both horrific and fitting at the same time! To add insult to injury, she was on “The View” this morning explaining that she got into the escort biz because NYC men are so “self-absorbed” and the NYC dating scene is so horrible she figured she might as well get paid for it. Oh really! Granted I hear ya. But working the corner is not the answer. Ashley’s excuse is the extreme version of that friend who whines and moans about moving to San Francisco because she’s “done with the men in New York.” Like in San Francisco they have a special breed/surplus of men who are attractive AND exceptional human beings. Good luck with that one. And good luck to all of the people taking advice from Ashley Dupre.

Spawn

So apparently Kourtney Kardashian has birthed Scott Disick's child and they've named it Mason, which is so infinitely amazing. When I was like six or seven my friend's older sister had a boyfriend named Mason. This was in the Eighties at the height of Miami Vice mania and there was no one cooler. I think he drove a red convertible BMW and def wore linen pants. And in light of Scott Disick's ridiculousness (please note the Gucci belt and Members Only jacket in this pic) and Kourtney's overall vapidness, I think the name they chose makes complete sense. Such as: if it was a girl they would have named it Madison for sure. Can't wait to see what young Mason does with his life. I'm pretty sure it's going to be epic. And by epic, I mean forgettable.

Ick

Oooh you know what creeps me out? Those Gap Kids commercials. I'm not really sure what's happening, besides a lot of screeching and jumping around in various shades of magenta, but I think the girls are renouncing dresses in favor of Ugg-knockoff boots and poofy skirts. Not really sure what the difference is but either way it's jarring.

119: Holla!

Dive bars are on the top of my awesome things list just slightly behind cupcake icing and dogs over 15 pounds. I'm always happy to discover a new one, or in the very least an older one that is new to me, and this weekend I did just that with 119 Bar in Union Square. When we arrived there was a guy smoking a cigarette outside who looked exasperated and told us it was dead boring and we’d be better off going anywhere else. I took this as a challenge and went in anyway. He was right, it was a ghost town, but on a Saturday night in New York this is kind of a relief. Anyway he came back after his cigarette and so did about 800 more people in the next half an hour, until the main room was filled with pretty much every person in NYC who enjoys dancing to bad and forgotten pop music (Ace of Base “The Sign” was a highlight), which is hands down my favorite kind of person. Will def be back again soon.

Rooow

Male celebs can be disappointing in person. Nine times out of 10 it is very, "Hello young man, would you like a lollipop?" And you don't even have to reach up to pat them on the head. There are exceptions to the rule though. Seth Meyers is one of them. He was not even on my radar until we shared an F train together (fateful moment) and I was like, "Oh excuse me but JACKPOT." Sebastian Stan (seen above) is another. Apparently he is part of this storied "Black Swan" cast and that is music to my ears. I walked past him on a rainy day once. Eye contact was made. And let's just say the camera does not do him justice. I also like the way he dresses. Dark and trendy, but not "too"...

Little Gifts

Snoop Dogg has a new album out! As a young teen I was weaned on a steady diet of Snoop, Biggie Smalls and Tupac so you can imagine how excited (and emotionally stunted) this makes me. But even more exciting than that shiz is a little gem of information I gleaned from Snoop's interview with Conan O'Brien the other night: among many random Snoop-inspired products currently available to the general public is a NAVIGATIONAL SYSTEM FEATURING HIS VOICE. I'm talking GPS spiked with Gin n' Juice. I'm not sure it gets much better than that. Yep, I give up. Throwing in the towel.

Vanilla

Here's Jen Garner in the new W mag and a.) wow they always know how to do it up right + b.) eh, she annoys me. I always feel like the mean girl saying that. Because I'm sure she's really nice and squinty and does things like bake cookies. She's DEF a baker. Also a frozen yogurt eater. And the kind of person who carries organic hand sanitizer around in her purse. Black chapstick-user!!!

Favorite Things

Excuse me but the greeting card company Uncooked (www.uncookedland.com) is so genius. One of my more sardonic friends sent me their "snowflakes shaped like prostitutes" card for Xmas a few years ago and ever since I have moments of delight just visiting their website and discovering a new design. The above trailer park card is my favorite this year.

Criminal

So I guess the Pink Tea Cup on Grove Street is closing and boy that sucks. The last time I was there I played BOTH Mary J. Blige "You Bring Me Joy" and Snoop Dogg "Lay Low" on the jukebox and ate maybe 3 (5) biscuits drowned in butter. In other words: bliss. I just hope some stupid gastro-lounge with fancy chicken pot pie doesn't open up in it's place because come on, enough already. Fingers crossed they find another location soon and it isn't in Jersey City.

Garden State

I got home kind of late last night but I still turned on “Jersey Shore” because there was something about waiting a whole 24 hours more than the rest of the world to experience it that didn’t appeal to me. The original plan was to watch, like a half hour and call it a night. An appetizer of Jerse if you will. But that didn’t happen. And did you know it was TWO hours long? Needless to say I woke up this morning bleary-eyed with a bit of a tanning booth hangover. Was it everything I hoped for and more? Damn right it was! I keep trying to come up with some commentary, but not gonna happen. Just watch it. In a word—or seven—it is what dreams are made of.

Loving Her II

Rupert, you’re not so bad yourself but…how cute and happy is Emily Blunt? I recently saw that little independent film she did with Amy Adams—“Sunshine Cleaning”—and it’s really a gem. Lovely and true and tugs at the heartstrings. She has a new movie coming out about the young Queen Victoria and her future just couldn’t be any brighter. Englishness!

Pass

What is it with all of the winter shoes with the open toes? Not that fashion is supposed to be practical or anything, but it's at least supposed to be DRY. The only place this footwear would work is maybe LA and you know there's going to be some sweaty ankle action going on underneath those buckles. Do you know what I think happened? I think the guy who decided to bring architectural shoulderpads back had dinner with peep toe booty guy and they spent the entire time drinking absinthe [smoking crack] and cackling about how they were going to have some fun with the general female population this season. Not amazing.

Jigga What

This was basically my take-away from the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show last night: models in lingerie are mesmerizing and Jay-Z was there. I single out these two thoughts because I spent the majority of the hour in a Vegas-accoutrement-induced trance, fast-forwarding through the parts when Heidi Klum was playing den mother to the baby models and just generally captivated with the boob-to-jutting-hip-bone ratio. And then the cameraman panned to Jay for a hot second and it saved me. I like that he was there. I also like that he was sitting next to a random old white dude (not Harvey Weinstein as far as I could tell, but he’ll do). Because I’m pretty sure he was nonplussed with the whole thing and made more than a few comments to the white dude about how the girls need to eat some hamburgers.

Hello There

It’s a good thing I stumbled upon the first “Twilight” book in an airport and got hooked before the series became scream-inducingly popular because I probably wouldn’t have read it otherwise. I don’t know. Like, I’m sure the Dan Brown books are super addictive, but I seem to have an aversion towards anything endorsed by Oprah or 15 million other people. I like my books a bit obscure, just like my men (segue). For example, James McAvoy is one of those heartthrobs who’s somewhat unexpected, and isn’t that nice? Here he is promoting his new movie “The Last Station” which I know nothing about but will definitely see. I bet in person he’s wee and a little unwashed, but that’s ok.

Cannot WAIT

This "Jersey Shore" show is really going to be a hoot, don't you think? Last night, somewhere in between Justin Bobby's ITALIA stomach tattoo and Erin Kaplan's aggressive hemlines, those crazy people over at MTV decided to treat us to a nice little glimpse into the world of Shore castmember Sammi. And-phew-that was mind-erasing! Sammi refers to herself as a "Guidette," what I can only guess is the female version of a Guido. That's nice. She then proceeds to define the term, explaining that Guidettes have "pretty hair...tan skin...wear the hottest heels" and know how to "club it up," which is another phrase I can add to my learn-something-new-every-day list. p.s. Sammi's on the far right of this picture in the pink leopard bikini top. I think her pose says: Pretty hair!

Love A Good Sequin

Every once in a while I daydream about the coming of H&M and Zara websites. Like, real websites where you can place items of clothing into your little shopping cart and gaze at them appreciatively before your credit card is even charged. They're coming soon, you know. But for now, the closest cousin is Forever21.com, a dangerous mix of EVERYTHING and everything costs like $5. There are a few tops on the site right this very second of a similar ilk to the above and I basically want all of them, which adds up to more than $5. I wonder if Ms. Zoe is feeling my vibe as well.

Disconnect

I am perplexed by the Luke Wilson for AT&T commercials. First of all, what happened?! This is Owen Wilson’s brother. The guy who starred in “The Royal Tennenbaums” and once dated Gwyneth Paltrow (I think). He's from Texas! Now he’s pointing at a big map of the United States talking about 3G networks and he looks like he spent the last 3months sitting around in Uggs and a bathrobe reading Clive Cussler novels. I mean. He def showed up on set with a full beard and some production assistant had to make him an appointment STAT at the barber. Not to mention, who are these companies hiring to hammer out their next ad concept? Your kid brother? Bad enough we already have to deal with Brad Garrett skipping down Robertson Blvd chugging Sprite. Now this [shakes head and takes a sip of dark liquor from a tumbler glass]?

Seeing Red

Ashley Greene is a stunner. And her dorky Alice wig in the "Twilight" movies doesn't even begin to do her justice. Same goes for this red suit. Hello there!

I Say

Everyone’s been a John Mayer fan at some point, even if it was for 30 seconds back in 2003 when you discovered yourself singing out loud in the car to “Your Body is a Wonderland” and then promptly stopped and switched the station. It’s OK. We’ve all been there. I’ve admittedly been to like NINE shows. And I think he’s super talented and analytical and mischievous. The guy doesn’t take things too seriously so that’s always a plus. But enough with the playboy shtick. Because his new single “Who Says” is technically really good pop and classic Mayer-catchy with a great melody, a bit dreamy and melancholy. I will probably buy it. But the lyrics are pure Dbag, so essentially he’s taken a great effort and cancelled it out. I dunno. I think he’s got it in him to be more.

Vegan Cookies

Andy Samberg’s SNL digital shorts are hit or miss. He loves playing up the random, which is a risk and sometimes you find yourself staring at Brian Austin Green in a robot mask [miss]. That said, every once in a while he pops up in a solid live sketch and it’s about as funny as funny gets. Case in point, the “Mellow” talk show sketch from Saturday’s episode-featuring Dave Matthews as a spot-on Ozzy Osbourne-was one of the best things he’s done since “Mark Wahlberg Talks to Animals.” I was laughing so hard I had to press pause on the DVR and take a time out.

Nightmares

My sister found this bed on Orvis.com and sent the link to me as a joke. I would like to have a look at the people who purchase this item.

Sigh

I'm really excited for J G-L to host SNL this weekend. I'm not shy about my love for "500 Days of Summer." In fact, I dare you to watch it and not in the very least develop a soft spot for him. He's talented and subtle and a bit goofy and dark-all very good things. I think he's going to kill it. Also, one of the few young actors out there right now who I think is on the verge of doing some amazing work...for a long time. Warm fuzziness all around.

Oh Brother

You see. There is something not right about this.

Hair Envy

Her puzzling waist-to-shoulder ratio and overall grumpiness aside, Claire Danes' hair in this pic is goddess-like, otherworldly if you will. I very much want to pet it.

Surrious?

I have moments of ennui every time I watch "Glee." I'm annoyed I thought I was too cool to hang out with the theatre kids in high school because as grating as that Rachel is, I'm pretty sure she's going to make a lot of money some day without ever having to sit behind a desk and make copies. I had a crush on the teacher at first, but now I just find him exasperating and uninteresting among other blatantly-obvious-but-never-addressed qualities. I think Jayma Mays is genius and where has she been all of this time? Perusing the racks of J. Crew apparently. Jane Lynch goes without saying. But at the end of the day, there's something far more sinister than jazz hands and dark humor going on here, and it's called the casting of 27-year-old men as teenage boys.

So Pretty

Well lookey here. Zac Efron's big boy movie about Orson Welles premiered last night in London and isn't he a twinkling specimen to behold? Not to say that he's not FIVE-or 80 pounds-but there's something spesh about Zac, and I am rooting for him. Although I have a feeling that Justin Timberlake is not.

Such A Broad

So last night on "The City," Whitney and Roxy (who I kind of like solely for her name but then also because she is certifiably insane and has a gravel voice and is def that friend that wakes up in her bathtub naked several days a week) were sitting around at work talking about this guy that Roxy thought was interested in her. But he wasn't. And who cares because he hangs out with old models at The Gates of all horrendous places and wears hats inside when it's not even cold OUTSIDE. Like it's LA or something! It's not. So they were yap yap yapping and you could feel the tension building in the offices of People's Revolution. A revolution of sorts was upon us. And suddenly...Kelly Cutrone's voice comes barreling from ahigh, wherever that windowed office of hers is because you can never really tell. And she says to Whitney (who always handles the intimidation factor with such grace and humor, I must say, although it could just be the Zolof): "Sorry to break up your knitting circle." Which is awesome.

Jealous Rage

Seth Meyers was on David Letterman last night and he told a story about how his girlfriend's father has a pet goat. Apparently her brother brought the goat home "to eat" (this was a questionable explanation) and her father took a liking to it and, well, now they have a pet goat named something I forget and Seth got into an argument with it on a beach somewhere. But the main gist I got from this story is: SETH MEYERS HAS A GIRLFRIEND?! Because that is not allowed. And also now I hate goats. And fathers.

Loving Her

I would like to be friends with Alexa Chung. Thanks bye.

Moon Men

Full disclosure: I have tickets to the midnight showing of "New Moon" on Thursday night/Friday morning and I haven't been 14 years old in a very long time. I'm going with about eight other losers and we are effing psyched! I don't have much else to say about this, besides I am def Team Edward, Robert Pattinson can wear the hell out of a tux with a skinny black tie and I'm still on the fence about Kristin Stewart. I think she scowls too much and needs to stop yanking at her hair like a mental patient. That said, the tortured soul bit is intriguing. So I will keep you posted on that one.

Hot Air

January Jones has the kind of blank and pleasant beauty so mesmerizing it makes people forget she's a crap actress. In fact, just last week I had a girl crush on her. Because one second she's wearing a headband and white gloves and the next she's on the red carpet all avant garde with rocker studs and smokey eyes. So I'm loving the juxtaposition. But then she decided to do a little thing called not being Betty Draper. It started somewhere around mid-week with Jimmy Fallon, which she giggled her way through (briefly charming, then grating, then mind-boggling). After turning everyone's brain into jelly, she fell back on the old pretty girl trick of drinking beer like a dude. This was supposed to make us forget the fact that she had just spent seven minutes contributing absolutely nothing to the conversation and it did. So I was all set to give her a second look with SNL. Because why not root for the cheerleader with a heart of gold? It would be interesting if she showed up and bodyslammed it, proved Ashton wrong and gave the American public one more thing to puzzle over beyond her genetic jackpot of an appearance. But that didn't happen. Nope, not even a little bit. And instead I spent the entire episode with my mouth slightly ajar, fruitlessly attempting to coach her through her lines like a crazed stage mother. She broke character during the fart sketch, which was completely unwarranted (because-ahem-it wasn't funny). And can we talk about the closing sketch. She's lying on a picnic blanket with Jason Sudeikis and every word out of her mouth is like a non-sequitor on top of a bag full of oxygen on top of a black hole. Because that just about sums up the January Jones experience. And while I can't speak for the writers, I'm guessing that was no coincidence. Also-pretty sure she wasn't in on the joke.

Mandcandy Moment

Every once in a while I'm in the mood for a little light and positivity...and mancandy. Hence Josh Lucas here looking edible and doing it for the children. Josh made an appearance today in support of a non-profit organization called Only Make Believe and swoon is a word that comes to mind. No bother that the little girl in the backwards hat appears to be levitating. She's high on Josh, and so am I.

STDbag

Ugh. Really?

Shiver

As much as I loves me some Kardashian-watching and secretly wish I could hang out with especially Khloe and wear yellow patent Louboutins and short shorts on a road trip, there is something fitting about Chad Rogers of that horrendous LA real estate program attending Kim's birthday party the other night. I'm pretty tolerant of horrendousness. I actually take great pleasure in it on a regular basis, evidenced by my DVR schedule. But everyone has their limits, and ol' dead lips here is the embodiment of mine. He's just really bad. As in, infuriatingly bad. I look at him and all I'm getting is: Mazeratis and formica and Black Amex Russian Roulette-an overload of Dbaggy images reflecting off the shiny blazer and into my bleeding eyes. Would you purchase a home from this man? My mom gave me the same haircut when I was three and I'm still angry.

Freddie Fackelbag

There is pretty much only one photo of Whitney Port's upcoming "City" love interest Freddie Fackelmayer to be found on the internet and this is a glorious thing. Because the camera doesn't lie, folks, and either do I. I've seen this guy twice in person: once at a crowded charity function (he was following Whitney and the cameras were following them) and a second time in Montauk, which is appropriate seeing as his friends-via commentary on nymag.com-assure the general public his tan [basted turkey complexion] comes the natural way, courtesy of early morning shred sessions in Ditch Plains (natch!). Dude has bone structure-and height-to spare. He's also supposedly a NICE PERSON. I doth not protest this fact. But simple things can push even the nicest, prettiest of people from hott surfer into dbagdom, and Cheeto face is one of these things. He's making his "City" debut next week, and the previews are blindingly tan. In person it's overwhelming, to say the least. I'm talking white shirt under a black light overwhelming. So FF: You're chasing swells, ripping and being gharly, wearing items of clothing that zip up the back, fine. Let's slather on some sunblock, shall we? Happy to help.

Deep Thoughts

The other night on "The Hills," Audrina and her tat-ified sister were standing around in some LA boutique that sells $80 "really soft" see-through t-shirts talking about man scarf-wearing Justin Bobby and his recent shenanigans with Kristin Cavallieri. Who is a man-eater apparently. They were going on and on about "Kristin's a biatch" and "she's a bad seed" and referencing Lauren Conran's character judgement skills. And then at the end of all the catiness and thinly-veiled jealousy, there was a pregnant pause (during which if a bubble popped up over Audrina's head, it would have been either blank or filled with woodland fairies) and Tat Sibling declared Justin Bobby a "douche." To which Audrina responded: blank woodland fairies. This was all sorts of funny to me because it's been like, what, 95 years of back and forth with the Justin Bobby thing? And there is Audrina standing in a boutique chattering on about girl code and wishing she had a hog between her legs. And...woah Tatty Sis with the observational skills!

Unnecessary

My favorite thing about Kanye West is not JUST that he does blatantly Dbaggy things. I mean, one expects him to do Dbaggy things. It's not even something you could wager a bet on because it's pretty much a done deal: if Kanye's there, he's gonna wear sunglasses inside or show up with some girlfriend [beard] who never wears pants or-you know-jump onstage and bully a gushing teenager who sings straight from her diary. All of that stuff is par for the course. What's really, truly great about Kanye is the fact that he does these things and then apologizes after. Like, he's at some sweaty afterparty Tweeting from his Blackberry in all caps no less: HEY I'M NOT CRAZY JUST REAL AND I'M GONNA SAY SORRY TO TAYLOR and blah vomit gurgle burp spit my god shut the eff up. Also, since Taylor Swift has basically made a career out of turning her life into song, let's all collectively look forward to her next hit single, shall we?