Drops of Jupiter & My Letter to T Swift





There I go again, abondoning you, taking away that stupid blog you read about a girl that shares her life more than most people would like. 

How could I be such a tease, like vegan brownies. They look good but taste like if dirt had an asshole. 

Life’s been no short of a shit storm, changes are just slapping me in the face and I kinda like it. I finally crawled out of my living room and managed to get hired at a marketing and advertising agency. 

BOOM! 

How the fuck did I pull that off? Being relentless and not settling for a job that wasn’t going to move me forward. Some of my friends will call me stubborn, and they are right. I’m the mule that will kick you if you try and move me anywhere I don’t want to go but I will lick your face after. 

There’s no real reason behind me licking your face…

In friendship land Tim has been a king amongst men during my slow climb towards an adulthood lifestyle. Our place is still non stop profanities and hilarity. 

Last weekend I hung out with Tim while he Dj’d a funk party in Kensington market. We priviously had dinner that consisted of many drinks, yours truly crushed a bottle of Spanish wine to herself. This lead to me making a VERY wine lipped video of myself singing to Train “Drops of Jupiter” while Tim was in the shower. I met Tim later as I needed to shower the early drunk off me and up my hydration levels. 

I like arriving to a bar tipsy so as not to draw attention to myself too soon. Well alone at least, if I’m with the girls it’s anyone’s bet the level of drunk we’ve reached. 

Anyway so there I am doing drink runs for Tim and myself dancing with strangers and making fun of 20 year olds trying to grind to funk music. The end of the night came pretty quick and we invited a few people over. 

It gets hazy here but stay with me.

I remember I was flying between my room and the living room talking to everyone. I might have told off one of Tims aquaintinces for asking me where he could do coke. I MIGHT have put my hand in his face and walked out of my room, I MIGHT have.

Quickly afte that I went and passed out on Tim which made him have to carry me to bed. On the way to my room I apparently decided this was the best time to do a scissor kick. Tim dropped me, obviously, I was like a drunk deer trying to escape from absolutely nothing. I hit the floor and rolled over to face Tim with one eye open and said

“Faggot.”

We both started laughing as he finally got me in bed where I then made him cuddle me until I passed out. 

CANT YOU FEEL THE FRIENDSHIP FEELS!?!?!?

I’m back to being the lovely single piece of work I’ve grown to prefer. I don’t know if it’s me or who I choose to date or just a random sequence of events but a relationship still isn’t on the board for me. 

Which leads me to my discovery of the new Taylor Swift 1989 album that just got released. Two summers ago I had the privilege to work for T Swift at the Rogers centre for her Red tour. I did wardrobe and at the time I was gloriously single and creating dramatic romances in my off time boredom. I didn’t spend much time with the girl but we shared a moment backstage. I gabbed about my sex life with her dancers, I don’t doubt she listened in. 

Now I’m listening to this album and start seeing that indeed T Swift has stolen my sex life chronicals. Let’s be real, she’s always been the girl next door, the sweet dreamer, and the highly emotional. Maybe she was just drawing a blank on her regular sweet romance songs. Regardless I have written Ms Swift a letter to ask for royalties for my life rights that I believe I deserve. 

Note: You might want to listening to the songs ‘Blank Space” and “Style” before reading this letter. 

Hey T Swift, 

How’s that new hairstyle working for you? I guess the bangs got kinda annoying after awhile, specially after I kept getting mistaken for you backstage.  You were cool about it though, you were even inviting and we let loose and shared relationship delemas. Member that long list of ex lovers I shared while helping you into that ball gown? The suit and ties I was running around with and how a couple of them used to proclaim often that I was insane? 

Loves a game huh? Bitch I taught you that game when you sent your bouncer out to get us cigarettes and weed. 

No Taylor, the worst has come and I am completely dumbfounded you turned my ongoing midnight male meet up into the pop dream that is “Style”.  It’s nothing new that every single girl has that one James Dean type that just shows up out of the blue every now and then. You know, the one you can’t not go home with even if you want to punch them for not calling you for months. I just don’t think you have it in you T Swift to pull something like this off without falling into a tub of ice cream in your unicorn pjs. 

Yes I know about the unicorn pjs.

So I’d  like my royalties made out in cash please. There’s no need to get dramatic about it, I get it, my stories are ridiculous inspirations for pop songs. I didn’t ask for this life but I’m living it out the best I can. 

You can keep the selfies I took with your phone, they are just of me on the toilet. 

Hang in there T Swift, one day you’ll be the harlequin you so badly want to be. Just ask Lindsey Lohan, I did wonders for her aside from being a drug hoovering crack bag. 

Your Bae, Casey Jane. 

Thanks for reading loves, I’ll be back more frequently. 

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