Dear Taylor,
Like 53% of American adults (and 98% of girls between seven and seventeen) I’m a BIG Swiftie, as we fans call ourselves. If the situation were different – and I was not twice your age, I honestly think we could have had a future together. But please don’t try to start something. It would only break my heart (and seriously piss off my wife – not to mention Travis Kelce).
Let me be clear. I’m a HUGE fan. And not just because you’re young, stunningly beautiful, enormously talented, and so wealthy that you recently made an offer to purchase the nation of Luxembourg.
As close to perfect as you almost are, I have one deep concern about you. At 34 years of age, with all you have going for you, you still haven’t found the love of your life. (We both know you’re going to drop Travis before the next football season begins.) And no, Taylor, as flattered as I am that you might consider me to be your next special someone, I must tell you, I’m happily married (as is my wife, almost 35% of the time).
I’m worried about you, Tay Tay. No, I’m not bothered by the fact that, according to Fox News, you are apparently part of Joe Biden’s nefarious plot to steal the 2024 election by brainwashing your legions of adoring fans into voting for Joe for president.
No, I’m concerned because I hate to see you break up with yet another boyfriend, as I’m pretty sure you’ll do with Travis. That strapping young man went out of his way to hoist the Lombardi Trophy for winning the Super Bowl and present it to you. By the way, at some point, you’ll probably be asked to return the trophy to the Kansas City Chiefs. It wasn’t actually Travis’s to give to you. He just got caught up in the moment, I’m sure.
I can appreciate that right now, based on how you two hugged and kissed on the field at the end of the Super Bowl, things appear to be going just swimmingly for “Traylor,” as you two as a couple are called.
But trust me, we both know you’ll eventually break it off – just like you’ve done with every other guy you’ve dated over the past fifteen years. Need I remind you? It’s an exhaustingly long list – from Joe Jonas (of the Jonas Brothers) to Zac Efron to Jake Gyllenhaal to John Mayer to Harry Styles to Harrison Ford to Tom Hiddleston to… well, you get the picture. Okay, I’ll admit, you haven’t actually been linked to Harrison Ford – yet. I just wanted to see if my fellow Swifties out there were paying attention.
T-Swizzle, the reality is I am deeply concerned about your inability to stay in a long-term relationship. And then, when you guys break up, you have this unhealthy pattern of writing songs trashing your recent ex.
I learned that your song Forever and Always was about Joe Jonas. Your song Dear John was a biting rebuke of your former lover, singer John Mayer. Then there was your smash hit We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, in which you eviscerated Jake Gyllenhaal. But I have your back on that one. Personally, I never liked the guy. Jake had it coming.
Where am I heading with this? Honestly, I’ve no idea. An hour ago I polished off a sleeve of Oreo cookies, and I’m having a serious sugar crash right about now. Oh, wait. Now I remember my point. It’s just a matter of time, my dear Taylor-made, before you break Travis’ heart, send him packing, and write another devastating song about your failed love tryst. If you do, have you thought about a name for your song? Might I suggest “You May be a Tight End, But You Can Kiss My Tight End Goodbye.” Do you like it, Tay Tay? If you use it, all I’m asking for is 5% of the royalties, okay?
Travis, with his heart irreparably broken, will probably slip into a deep depression, get cut by the Chiefs for a dramatic drop-off in his production, end up playing Arena Football for the Tallahassee Parrots, doing local TV commercials, and saying things like, “At Art Johnson’s Buick, every customer is a WINNER.” Don’t do it, buddy.
Then, Taylor, you’ll probably make $50 million in record sales from your song about your steamy, volatile star-struck affair with Travis. Hey, I just thought of a better song title. How about “You Wanted to Score a Touchdown, But My Heart Wanted to Punt.” No? Okay. I’ll keep working on it.
This got me to thinking, Taylor. What if your next target for a lover was me? I better nip this idea in the bed, I mean bud, before I have to do some serious explaining to my wife. Taylor, if you’re still reading this, let me stop you before your heart gets the wrong idea about pursuing an affair in which people would inevitably be calling us “Tay-Tim.” (Personally, I prefer Tim-Tay, but let’s not squabble.)
Please don’t knock on that door. I’m happily married. It simply could never work out between us – in part because at 5’11” you’d be an inch taller than me, so you could see my bald spot. Also, I hear you’re allergic to cats, and I have three of them. Here’s the deal. No cats? No Tay-Tim. It’s a package deal. So how about we both forget about this crazy notion and just remain friends, okay?
Besides, if I know you, I know what would happen next. After four months (or perhaps four minutes) together, you’d tire of my jokes. Maybe you’d even stop reading my humor articles on Humor Outcasts. And you’d leave me for some other older man – probably Harrison Ford. People have been talking about you two, ya’ know.
Then you’d probably pen some catchy, danceable tune in which you reveal to the world my quirky habit of singing to my cats. I’m not sure I could recover from that embarrassment.
So forget about me, Taylor. Try to make things work with Travis. He’s a great catch. (Get it? Catch?) And besides, I’d prefer to avoid giving him a reason to beat the crap out of me for stealing you away from him. I hope you can understand.
For more of Tim Jones’ humor go HERE.
Check out Tim Jones’ new YouTube channel, View from the Bleachers.