Taylor Swift Has Gone Ape Shit

By Queen Elizabetch


So somebody please get Taylor Swift on some fucking medication because bitch crossed a line with her new music video "Blank Space". Let's start off with the fact that this music video had a larger budget than the first Twilight movie. Props to whoever the art designer was - this video is visually stunning. I'd make Taylor trade me for her bedroom and wardrobe - especially the horses - if I wasn't terrified she'd beat me to death with a golf club. Another compliment for the costume designer for making her "boyish figure" look somewhat desirable.

The plot line of the music video is basically Taylor is a billionaire recluse living in a better version of Versailles (sorry Kimye) and sends away for gorgeous men to come hang out with her - kind of like mail-order bros. Their "relationship", which lasts for approx 45 seconds, is kind of cute in the most boring way possible. They go for bike rides in the house, horse back riding, and picnics until Taylor realizes her boy has a side chick. At first, they just get into a fight and that seems kind of normal. Like, good job Taylor for refusing to be second-best, but then this takes a freaky turn. She throws a fucking vase at his head, cuts up his shirts (alright Janis Ian, take a knee), and sets one of his blazers on fire. That alone makes Taylor the most bat shit crazy bitch since Britney Spears circa 2009.

All of a sudden, this music video turns into an episode of Snapped. It's unclear how Taylor kills her not-boyfriend who may or may not have been texting another girl. She might have assaulted him with a golf club, stabbed him with a knife (Jesus Christ the bleeding cake is straight out of a Saw movie), or gave him a poisoned apple (nice Snow White lost virginity imagery). Throughout this whole scene Taylor is having a stage 5 breakdown complete with a full on ugly cry, gross silent screaming, and just all around emotional overload. Clearly she and Mariah Carey missed the music video acting school lesson on subtlety. The whole thing ends with another male model rolling up to the House of Horrors, for another round of fuck, delusionally date, kill - but what about male models?

All of that being said, you'll be singing this on repeat when your cuffing season bro hooks up with his high school gf over Thanksgiving Break.





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