SEEING RED

Taylor Swift’s Revenge

We are never, ever getting back together, galfriend

Dear Vanky:

Long time, no hear! Or even see, really. You, who used to be such a ubiquitous presence, trying to act like a grownup and all. I checked, and you still have a couple of active social media accounts but sadly, not too many folks spend their time regurgitating your missives as irresponsibly as in the past.

I figured you’ve been trying to lay low, after all those years promoting your bloated orange dad’s brand, and all.

Or was it your brand you were boosting? I’m starting to get the idea that your entire life has been a series of “Failure to Launch” moments. Here’s a hint: Daddy ain’t Matthew McConaughey, and you sure as hell aren’t Sarah Jessica Parker.

Your brand’s grown a bit stagnant of late, hasn’t it? But you and I were tied together in the news today, and I hope it gives you a little bit of a boost, or whatever.

Who did any of that so-called “work” for your Old Man when he was in D.C., anyway?

Because we all know he spent most of his so-called “presiduncey” doing the Big Doo-Doo on his Golden Throne. And sometimes in his pants. You were on “elephant parade patrol,” weren’t you?

You’ve tried six ways from Sunday, as my friend’s Nana would say, to try to get some of my celebrity for yourself. But I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. You may have heard I just dropped a new LP of an old LP, and I was recently on Saturday Night Live. My performance clocked in at 10 minutes, they say, longer than Prince’s unprecedented 8-minute SNL medley in 2014.

BTW, I know you’ve pretended to be a businesswoman, a scientist, a diplomat and a designer, among other faux “working woman” gigs during your cacophonous career, but you’ve often seemed at odds with numerical facts. And although you once appeared on Saturday Night Live in a cameo, that was short-lived and easily forgotten. In case you couldn’t figure it out, my SNL performance last weekend was the longest ever, by two whole minutes!

So, what’s all this about your girl Swifty being banned at the White House?

Actually, I have a few questions about recent headlines. But only as my questions relate to me, of course.

So I pretty much imagined you were behind the effort to cancel me from the corridors of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW. Or wasn’t it renamed “Black Lives Matter Plaza” during the latter months of Daddy’s term?

Was my musical catalog really banned at the White House while you were there? I hear that Third Reich wannabe, White House personnel guy Johnny McEntee, prohibited the playing of my songs on the premises. Something about your Pops not being a T. Swift fan, or something. Hey, don’t want to get fired for having good taste in music.

But I know the real reason. You’ve pretty much failed at every undertaking you’ve ever undertaken, especially the last four years. So the next logical step would naturally be to ban yours truly, I guess.

Removing the digital me from the White House was more of a Vanky Revenge Tour deal, wasn’t it?

I remember the time you were “shunned” by world leaders in Japan. What could be worse than a U.S. ally, in this case the French, releasing a video of the presidunce’s vacuous blond daughter and pretend adviser embarrassed and ignored while trying to fit in? Twitter’s take on that was hilarious!

Or what about the time you went to Iowa and donned a lab coat, latex gloves and protective goggles, crafting an Insta post of you molesting a beaker and perhaps a test tube or two? Twitter cracked up over that!

And then there was the time you thought you’d be on your way to visit Queen Elizabeth, but humiliated Brits, and probably a few of our diplomats, too, blocked your access to the helicopter?

Hey, Kremlin Barbie: Part of the Royal Family you are not!

And speaking of the Royals, all of your missteps and woebegotten wannabe moments will never be remotely as hysterical as your Daddy’s “Prince of Whales” tweet, but you need to get credit for trying, am I right?

You know, galfriend, I’ll always be the “It Girl” you so desperately aspire to be.

And I know you’re secretly super jealous of moi, after all. I’ve made about a gazillion dollars writing emo breakup songs about past romances with famous dudes. I’m sure you’ve heard my mega-hit, “All Too Well,” is about my relationship with Jake Gyllenhaal. So there’s another thing for you to cry about. You’ve never had a romance as rockin’ nor as rocky as any of mine, correctamundo? And we’ve never been that close, although you did sneak in a selfie with me that one time at the Met Gala.

But at least you got to go to Jared. I remember it all too well, yeah.

Here’s to never, ever reincarnating as Vanky 2.0,

T-Swizzle