First of all, I want to say thanks for coming to prom with me, Taylor Swift. I’m sorry I still call you by first and last name all the time, but you know, you’re Taylor Swift.
I never thought that a loser like me could write a simple letter explaining what a loser I am and then have you take me to prom. Boy, we sure showed those other idiots, huh? Haha, better revenge than shooting up the joint. Well, maybe not better revenge. But less illegal. LESS illegal because I’m kind of still a minor, Taylor Swift.
Sorry I didn’t have much to talk about at dinner. I kind of think people must go to these with groups of friends because then they can talk more. But I was pretty nervous, and it didn’t help that everyone at Outback Steakhouse knew who you were, Taylor Swift.
Anyway, thanks for coming, and I apologize if it wasn’t the best date of ever. And I didn’t mean to lead you on, but you’re going to have to slow down with the calls and the letters and the coming by my house. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what you did for me, but I don’t know how much more I can take.
Bad enough that all the magazines said stuff like “Taylor Swift Takes Lucky Loser To Prom” or “Taylor Swift With Complete Fucking Loser (sorry for printing ‘Loser’ right on the cover, but holy shit!” I mean, I get it. People go on pity dates all the time. But usually they don’t have all the magazines at the store reminding them how they’re losers and how weird it is that someone cool went to prom with them.
Then it was TMZ. They followed me around for only like a day and I did so much horrible stuff. I go at myself almost on the hour if it’s a weekend, and it was a 3-day weekend. That’s even worse. I go like crazy because then I have an extra day to recuperate so I can walk right again. I know that’s a lot of detail, but I’m just trying to explain how they got so many pictures of me with my hands all over my heavy stuff.
All that stuff is bad, but I gotta be honest, I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did from your music. Well, not so much your music as your pictures on the booklets that come with the music. I thought I knew you from that stuff, but maybe not. Half way through our Bloomin’ Onion I realized you’re a total stranger.
I just want to go back to my old life, the one where nobody writes love songs about me that get given away at Starbucks. I’m flattered. Really. I never thought anyone would write a song about me. Well, I did for a while think that there was this one song by Foster The People that was about me, but it turns out I just didn’t know any of the lyrics and the song was actually about shoes. Anyway, I’m flattered, and “Pimply Pubes” is on regular rotation in my car. But I’m not cut out for this life. It’s too fast-paced.
Sorry to dump you this way, Taylor Swift. I hope you can forgive me and maybe someday when I’m more famous, which shouldn’t be too far away because I’m getting really good at putting together model trains, maybe then I’ll be more ready.
But for now, I guess this is goodbye. Like it says in your song, Go and fix your makeup girl, it’s just a breakup. Wait, that’s a Miranda Lambert song. That’s a good one too.
Best,
Pete