Dear Charli XCX,
Trust me when I say I know what it’s like to hold the emotional wellbeing of a human being in the palm of my hand and watch it wriggle like the world’s most pathetic caterpillar. I did it to every single man I ever dated and then ran it back when I decided to re-release all of my previous albums. Jake Gyllenhaal can’t even be in the same room as a red scarf anymore. So trust me when I say it doesn’t have to end like this.
You don’t have to do this, Charli. I know you’re in the studio as we speak with Matty Healy, who ghosted me, which in retrospect was a fact that should have stayed hidden from the public for maybe all of time. Please Charli — Mrs. XCX if you’re so inclined. I didn’t mean it. It doesn’t have to be this way at all. I cannot afford to be in the same place as Drake — culturally speaking, anyway. I could totally buy at least one province because I’m a billionaire, but I fucking hate Canadians. They call me Miss Americana, not Miss Canadiana. And besides, how am I supposed to be a billionaire if, in the wise words of my intelligent fiance, Travis Kelce of the Kansas City Chiefs, I’m ‘chopped’ and ‘unc?’ How will I manage to keep my billionaire status if only 24 out of my 25 variant albums get streamed into oblivion? Why else do you think this album is so spiritually Republican? Being Republican is what’s in right now. Republicans have so much money to throw at whatever white figurehead they can find, and I can’t lie, mama needs that sweet, sweet cash. I can be center-right for the payout of a lifetime.
I don’t even need this money for myself. I need it for the army of children that I’m going to have with my fiance, Travis Kelce of the Kansas City Chiefs. Think about it Charli. You’re taking away not just from me, but from a whole entire family. I’m a #Tradwife now, which means that my community is more impactful and meaningful than yours — never mind the fact that you’re also married and want children. Unlike you, I don’t have a (public) cocaine addiction, so my desires, despite being the same as yours, are better than yours. But come on, Charli. Don’t do this. Think of my nonexistent platoon of children that would probably grow up to be the biggest bullies possibly ever.
Speaking of bullies, I would like to take the time to formally apologize for my diss track about your song “Sympathy is a Knife,” but you have to understand that I wrote this album with my fiance, Travis Kelce of the Kansas City Chiefs, as my muse. So, like… you get it, right? Not a whole lot of substance going on there, so you can’t really put this on me. I totally got what you meant in that song because I’m also a famous female pop star and have been insecure before, but par for the course, he did not. I mean, sometimes he gets you mixed up with Charlie Puth, so he’s like, “But babe, I don’t understand! I thought you liked him!” I had to explain what the word burlesque meant, and he only seemed to kind of get it when we watched the eponymous film with Cher for the third time.
And, to really put things into perspective, you can’t put this on me as I… am suffering from a health condition. You see, a long time ago, I had a real problem with snorting things too. Only instead of cocaine, it was the ashes of John F. Kennedy and it made me go a little crazy. It’s why I bought a house in Cape Cod next to Ethel Kennedy’s house and the Kennedy compound. It’s also why I dated a 17-year-old Conor Kennedy when I was 23, which was the first time I made that mistake. (Please do not look up how old Taylor Lautner was when I dated him. Just trust me on this.)
Suffice to say, you shouldn’t get mad at me. I mean, you can, but not in a way that would get you to respond to my diss track as that would stop me from making that aforementioned sweet, sweet cash. You know me, Charli. I’m the weakest powerhouse ever, a mansion built on a foundation of loose-packed sand. All I have are my private jets, my multiple expansive properties, and my team that does everything anyone could ever ask for. And since now I’m a #Tradwife and a #Provider, you’re not just hurting me, you’re hurting my brand.
With all the love I carry,
Taylor Swift
