I Dated Taylor Swift (and she wrote a song about it)

Recently I had the awesome experience of dating Taylor Swift.  Now you might wonder how I attracted the affection of Ms. Swift, but I was wearing my $230 designer Pitbull sunglasses and chicks just can’t resist them.  I think she may have actually thought I was Pitbull when we began the relationship.  In addition, she is from Pennsylvania so maybe I had my Pennsylvania Dutch mojo going.

Unfortunately the relationship lasted only 15 minutes.  No, this wasn’t speed dating.  Apparently courtships move much faster these days.  However, I found out afterward that brief relationships are common for Taylor and that I actually lasted longer than some of her boyfriends.

What a cute couple!

Now you might think she left me because the sex was bad, but let me assure you that was not the case.  I can say this because the relationship lasted only 15 minutes and my blue pill takes about an hour to work.   It wasn’t the sex, but it could have been her unfamiliarity with my Aqua Velva after shave. 

I know I should not be dating young chicks at my age, especially since I am married.  But c’mon, this is TAYLOR SWIFT!  I mean she is smoking hot, she is super rich and she does not appear to be too bright.  In other words, many guys would consider her the “perfect woman”!

But it ended much too quickly.  Apparently there was a problem with our ages.  Okay, so there was a problem with my age.  She said she wanted to go back to December, but just not May/December.  She said she was afraid someday I might leave drool drops on her guitar. So the relationship came to an abrupt end.

When I was younger I would have been crushed by this rejection, but now I just got some nachos and everything was fine.  I did text her the next day, but she texted back “We are never, ever, ever, getting back together”.

I thought that was the end of this incident until I turned on radio a few weeks later and heard Taylor wailing a song she had written about our fling:

I really thought you were the one, but I am older than your son

I wanted me some six-pack abs, not 6 big pounds of belly flab

You were so suave and debonair – didn’t notice all of your ear hair

Now I’m REALLY, REALLY, REALLY MAD! – ‘cuz you’re old enough to be my dad.

da da, -  da,da, - dadadada – da da

I thought you said you were European, but that just meant always, you’re a peein’

I just wanted to frolic in Niagara, but you said you needed some Viagra

Yeh, yeh, yeh,  when I’m with you, I'm feeling “52”

Now I’m REALLY, REALLY, REALLY MAD! – ‘cuz you’re old enough to be my dad.

da da, -  da,da, - dadadada – da da

So as the mega hit “Old Enough To Be My Dad” rockets up the charts, I am totally embarrassed and Taylor makes a few more millions.  But I have learned my lesson.  I am not going to be used and have my heart broken by a hot, young, celebrity ever again.  However if anyone happens to have Shania Twain’s cell number, please send it over.

And in response to Ms. Swift’s song, I have decided to write a song of my own about the relationship.

Okay this song writing stuff can’t be too difficult ….

I should have bought you flowers,

I should have held your hand

Should have gave you all my hours …

“Wait, what? Bruno who? From where?  So Bruno from Mars has already done this?  Okay, let’s start over.

All you young, wild, girls

You make a mess of me

All you young, wild, girls …

What now?  Are you freaking kidding me? That Bruno guy again!

That’s it.  Just forget I said anything about any of this.

The Straight Poop On The Amish

Recently over 100 Amish people in Ohio protested a law that required all new houses to be equipped with modern wells and septic systems.  At first I supported the Amish on this since I thought the plumbing systems were electrically-powered and the Amish have an established tradition of non-electric living.

But then I found out that there are hydraulic-powered systems that require no electricity, that meet the building code.  This means the Amish were not protesting over being forced to use electricity. No, they were protesting for the right to poop outside.

Now I may support the Amish’s right of religious freedom, but I cannot support this.  This is crazy.  This is bats**t crazy, literally if you happen to accidently trap a bat in the outhouse.  If you are protesting for the right to poop outside, I will not stand with you.  In fact, I will not even stand downwind from you.  America provides many individual freedoms, but the right to poop outside is not one of them.

And I don’t think the Amish are standing, or squatting, on freedom of religion here.  I don’t believe God cares where you poop.  I can’t see where this is a religious issue at all.  Despite the expression, I don’t think it is possible to take a holy s**t, although I used to work with a guy who proved it is possible to take an unholy one.

I don’t care how pure your doctrine is, how great your church is or how pleasant your members are.  If your religion requires me to poop outside, that’s a real deal breaker.  And I shall not be moved. And when I am moved, it will be in a nice, temperature-controlled, indoor, state-of-the art, commode with electric lights and a sink nearby!

The Amish could build the house with the modern plumbing system, but just not use it.  Of course you know what would happen.  Elmer would get up in the middle of a frigid winter night.  He would have a choice to make and his flush would narc him out to the other people in the house.  “Elmer, thy buns have touched the porcelain. Ye are a sinner!”

You might think since I am a “city boy” that I have never utilized an outhouse for turdilation.  You would be wrong.  My family migrated from central Pennsylvania, right near Amish country. (Wow, when you think about it, a few miles to the east and I would be typing this blog on a manual typewriter and would be posting it by nailing a copy to your front door).  We would visit relatives in Pennsylvania when I was young and one sweltering-hot day the indoor bathrooms were occupied and I had to utilize the outhouse in the woods.  This was a very traumatic experience that I have not recovered from, even to this day.

Where you poop is very important.  It defines you.  It cultures you. It helps establish your persona.  That’s why outhouses are very important to the Amish.  They take much time and effort to construct fantastic outhouses, some of the finest outhouses in the world.  The Amish even have an expression to describe a hot Amish woman (which is an oxymoron) that says, “She is built like a brick “s**thouse”.  Because to an Amishman nothing in the world is better than a tight, sturdy, outhouse that keeps out the cold and wind on a frigid winter morning.

Hot, but not really Amish

Incredibly a variation of this expression was the basis for the Commodores 1977 hit song “Brickhouse” (She’s a brick --- house!).  Fortunately the Commodores did not sing “She’s a brick s**thouse”.  I think perhaps that could have slightly dampened the song’s appeal.  I’m sorry, any culture that positively likens a beautiful woman to the place where you poop, just ain’t right. It is certified crazy. It is bats**t crazy indeed. 

The Best Amish Group of All Time!