Permanent Case of the Heebie Jeebies

                           

or, the day I stopped having a thing for katy perry…

                                               

                Well, I’m crushed. Soul destroyed, distraught. Tormented, addled, beside myself. Discomposed, unscrewed, unglued.

                I mean, it just hurts, you know? I knew that she was dating John Mayer, as if that wasn’t bad enough, now they’ve co-written a song together that is, to me, the equivalent of snuff.

I feel like this pouty lipped, mainstream, every bro with an acoustic guitar you met in college douchenozzle is trying to actively make me vomit. I could stomach the fact that he’s dating her but the lyrics to this song are basically her talking about how wonderful and glorious he is in the sack. The lyrics are putrid, sickening, vile combinations of words I am loathe to repeat, but I will for the sake of the fact that I must make every stride to take this man down.

 For the good of the land.

I actually find the thought of her banging John Mayer more gross than the thought of her banging Russell Brand. At least he’s funny sometimes, even if he does seem like the rejected third Gallagher brother, and I’d probably take hearing Wonderwall for the eleventy billionth time over hearing any John Mayer song more than once. I mean she could have anyone! (Even this wonderfully witty wordsmith that wryly wrangles language like Wally Whitman affectionately known as: Yours Truly. I mean, Jackpot.)

Ducking and dodging digression now and moving on to this hideously retarded lovechild they have created together. It seems like the imagery was plucked right out of the imagination of the guy in the hallmark meetings everyone thinks is too flowery, and puts the two of them right next to you making out like every gross couple discovering they had mouths in the 8^th grade. Let’s take it from the top, shall we? Cringe.

               

Lay me down at your altar, baby

I'm a slave to this love

Your electric lips have got me speaking in tongues

Laying it on a little thick there, Kates? It’s going to be hard to decipher what this song is about considering the fact that we are just drowning in subtext. Maybe you’re going super meta and trying to write lyrics as if Prince had suffered a traumatic brain injury? (That’s nothing to joke about, though, Prince is an American institution and could teach John Mayer a thing or two about being suave.)

Why do electric lips have her speaking in tongues? What are electric lips? Did he get them from Sky Mall? Are they battery operated or powered by his own smug sense of self-satisfaction? These are the burning questions. Moving on. It gets worse:

I have prayed for a power like you

To see deep down in my soul

Oh, you make me bloom like a flower, a desert rose

You make me bloom like a flower? You make me bloom like a fucking flower? Come on. Gross. Plus, I think the desert rose metaphor is getting a little tired, don’t you? Who does John Mayer think he is? Bono? Even Bono thinks that’s cheesy and he’s been grating mozzarella into his songs since the late 80’s. Double cringe.

Magic, or one, or mystery

All of your charms have worked on me

I would surrender myself

Holy hell, and heaven high

You will open up my eyes

And I am finally here

Good lord. John Mayer is heaven to you? Heaven. Like eternal bliss, everything you’ve ever wanted or needed from your mortal life embodied in one curly headed twit? Ironic because for me, Johnny boy would probably be present at the ninth circle of DK’s inferno. One man’s trash, I guess.

This is spiritual, under your spell

Phenomenal, the way you make me feel

Like an angel, oh, at blow

Like a feather, you make me float

Yeah. I think this last bit speaks for itself. The rest is just more of the same. The worst part is, this song is actually called “Spiritual”. Eeeeeeeewwwwwwwww.

Basically Katy Perry says that John Mayer is her religion, and she has sworn herself to him, and this leads me to the inevitable conclusion that he has either mastered the same brain washing tricks as scientology or invented love potion number 9. Either way, he’s used his powers for evil. Shame on you John, shame.

In any case, it seems like that’s it for me and Katy. Thankfully there’s like three actresses that look exactly like her that John Mayer probably hasn’t slept with yet, but give it time.

Now you might say, whatever Dave, you’re just jealous because he’s dating a sexy pop star and you’re not. That might be true, but I don’t think I’d trade places with him because, first off, I’d have to be John Mayer and that’s gotta be hard no from my camp. Second, I don’t really think I’d want her now, she dated John Mayer, that’s number three on my list of deal breakers after:

 1.)    Listens to John Mayer

 2.) Would date John Mayer.

Lastly, I’d like to thank Seth McFarlane for saying in 2009 in one sentence what I’ve needed several hundred to express: