Please Don’t You Be My Neighbor
STALKER ALERT. Because it is not at all strange, scary or smothering to superglue yourself to some guy you’ve been dating for all of two months, Taylor Swift has reportedly decided to take her summer fling with Conor Kennedy to the next level. Or more specifically, People, NBC News and basically everyone else is saying bitch bought a house right across the street from Conor’s grandmother Ethel in the Kennedy compound.
While most people would be frantically spider-webbing their young naive grandson with POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS tape as red flags fly and sirens blare in the background, Miss Ethel and the rest of the Kennedy clan seem to be drunk on the Swifty Kool Aid (tastes like plain lukewarm tap water with waaaay too fucking much sugar).
From the Boston Herald: “She’s a great friend of all of ours,” Conor’s aunt, filmmaker Rory Kennedy, told reporters at the recent Television Critics Association confab. “She’s awesome and we love her.”
From Sweetas: PUKE.
I wonder if the Kennedy family will still think she’s SUCH A DOLL when she turns the 1928 estate into a life sized Barbie Dream Home decorated with Hello Kitty and My Little Pony posters, hot pink ribbons and glitter markers. And there’s something else that gives me cause for side-eye with all of this, I mean besides little miss spider turning Conor into a prey cocoon so soon while his damned family just stands there drooling on themselves and shaking their pom pons. Taylor’s past bfs, Taylor Lautner, Joe Jonas, John Mayer and Jake Gyllenhaal have all been rumored to possibly at least sometimes, y’know, prefer the outies to the innies. I think you all get where I’m going with this.