Anything Taylor Swift Can Do, I Can Do Better

On April 19, 2024, Taylor Swift released her 11th studio album, The Tortured Poets Department. In the words of Ann Powers, it was written in blood, a raw display of emotion driven, of course, by lost relationships.

Not to be outdone, I, too, have had some nasty breakups in my life, prompting equally elite songwriting that just hasn’t gotten the same recognition (yet).

Please—hold your applause until the end.

 

The Keurig

So easy it was to use you

Just put in a cup and press start

But some left winger mentioned CO₂

And you went and broke my heart

Now you live in a goddamn box

While I’m stuck with these messy grounds

Don’t give me that sh*t about climate shocks

I’ll fill my landfill with your silent sounds

 

Cooking

I said I would spend time in the kitchen

And make those home-cooked meals

But all you did was start me bitchin’

About the wretched potato peels

I know I’m better without you

Because washing those pots was hell

Who needs some gourmet stew

When there’s the drive thru at Taco Bell?

 

Veganism

There was a time I gave up on meat

I think it lasted a day

But that day, we turned up the heat

How can I forget—there is no way

The cashew cheese was just like cheddar

The kale chips had a nice ring

But veganism, you knew me better

I loved you—and the chicken wing

 

The Mazda

I smothered you with bumper stickers

To show you my deep love

Not once did we even bicker

You fit me like a non-OJ glove

But then you had to go and get old

Sometimes you wouldn’t even start

Too rickety to even be sold

Now you’re just a bunch of spare parts

 

Medicine

Oh medicine, I gave you so much

Never enough, you always wanted more

Just one more weekend, a final touch

But soon I had nothing left in store

Now you’ve made me write blog posts

And found a younger doctor

I hope she hears the burnout ghosts

Warning her as you start to mock her

 

My Jeans

You were always there in my times of need

My companion, no matter what

But then I went hiking on old Mount Read

And you decided to tear—along my butt

Why, oh why, did you have to go

With my boxers flapping in the breeze

I just hope that you’ll always know

The pain you left with the view you teased

 

That Hipster T-Shirt

You were medium and fit just right

With your beer logo and musical bling

Yeah, sometimes you were a little tight

But I had no idea it was just a fling

Now you don’t even cover it all

There’s a strip of gut that shows below

I’ve had to go shopping at the local mall

I guess that’s what you wanted you little ho

 

In case you were wondering, yes, they do call me the Taylor Swift of blogs that are not read regularly.

Thank you.