Taylor Swift Plays Miami Tuesday
T-Swift is indeed outstanding in her field.
Courtesy of Big Machine Records
Thank you, Taylor Swift, for not destroying the world.
What? You don't think she could if she wanted to? Oh, really? Did you know that T-Swift has more followers across social media than the population of Germany? And do you remember what Germany was able to do back in the '40s — without hashtags, nonetheless?
When Taylor had a problem with Apple Music's policy of not paying royalties to artists during its free trial period, the most powerful company in the world bowed to her will like a terrified noodle. When Kanye West snatched the microphone from her soft, glistening hands at the 2009 VMAs to say that she did not, in fact, deserve the award she was holding in those perfectly proportioned fingers, the president of the United States, Barack O-
And you still think that sweet little Rachel won't bludgeon you to death in your sleep with a T.S.™ 1989™ Travel Mug (only $19.89 via Taylorswift.com) if the 25-year-old pop god tweeted out, "The #revolution is Nigh! Kill the parents!"?
So, we'll say it again: Thank you, Taylor, for not creating an upheaval that would send us spinning into bloody anarchy. That takes self-control up there with Gandhi lying naked in bed next to two beautiful women. Or refusing to poop in the handicap stall when you're the only one in the bathroom.
Imagine, for a second, how tempting it must be for Taylor to end this all. All of it. Put yourself in her shoes for a moment, her elegant yet understated shoes that she manages to stride in like a buttered gazelle. Scroll through your Twitter feed and read the vile stream of sooty hatred coming in at an almost continuous rate. "Honestly, fuck you @taylorswift13," and "Taylor's face looks like a third grader who heard 'fuck' for the first time" are two Tweets we just found in, like, under a minute. And while that second one may be kind of true, it's still mean, damn it.
Now then, let's go back to being Taylor for a moment. Feel the power burning inside of you, swirling like a tornado made of lava, just begging — begging — to be released so it can set fire to the world while it laughs like a drunken baby. Imagine sitting there, running your fingers through hair so perfect that each strand appears as though it were handmade by a 97-year-old Italian noodle maker named Papi
But, instead of calling upon your followers to firebomb the offices of TMZ, you instead take a deep breath, blink, and smile that celestial grin.
We may very well owe our lives to Taylor Swift, but she'll settle for our money.
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