Marika Malaea

faithful marauder + fake royal

Your Body Is A Taco Stand

with 6 comments

John Mayer is such an insufferable twat. I listened to his music in the beginning but – like Norah Jones and other talented young musicians who play old-people music disguised as young-people music that quickly turns into Starbucks music – my interest fizzled out. His semi-douchey, sleepy-eyed self appeared on magazine covers, attached to equally-famous stars (though sometimes Jessica Simpson questionable) – which, along with his Ozzie Osbourne-scale ramblings on Twitter, seemed to overshadow his talent and music. He seemed like an uber-talented soul man without any soul. I wondered if his gift was being wasted on vapid Jessica Simpson unnecessaries, but didn’t really care. He dated Jennifer Aniston – that doesn’t make you special, that makes you average. Even I’ve dated her.

Enter this month’s Rolling Stone article, starring – yep, you guessed it – John C. Mayer. It’s really excellent, I recommend the read. He’s honest – like, ‘a child with Tourette’s syndrome’ honest – and slightly unpredictable; he’s one-part Gary Busey, one-part Willy Wonka, two shakes of a gypsy and a little bit of Grandpa. The interview didn’t restore my faith in him, it started my faith in him. For a moment, Erik Hedegaard, the interviewer, showed a weird, crazy, cool John Mayer – one who could easily belong to The Breakfast Club or Rat Pack, or even the card game from Forty-Year Old Virgin. I was somewhat incredulous of his life, being lauded by Clapton in one state and having threesomes in another. And his musical gifts, right – we must not forget those.

Behold, my favorite quotes:

“What do you think?” he says. “Do you think it’s going to take meeting someone who I admire more than I admire myself? But isn’t it also about a beautiful vagina? Aren’t we talking about a matrix of a couple of different things here? Like, you need to have them be able to go toe-to-toe with you intellectually. But don’t they also have to have a vagina you could just pitch a tent on and just camp out on for, like, a weekend? Doesn’t that have to be there, too? The Joshua Tree of vaginas?”

The Joshua Tree of vaginas. I’m not going to lie, it burned like a urinal tract infection when I realized someone else wrote that line. (Can’t win them all.) I liked how, throughout the entire interview, my reaction pendulum swung between incredulous – ‘no, he did not just fucking say that’ and ‘what a narcissistic tool’ – to envy – ‘oh my god, this dude has balls’ and ‘2 million followers on Twitter and he tweets WHAT?’ I also liked how he was profiled from a realistic point of view, however realistic one can be after getting almost everything he ever wanted in life by the age of 32.

“I mean, in the wake of some completely fabricated story in Star, you’d be surprised what a good poop joke can do for you. When I send a poop joke out on Twitter, every single time, people write back, ‘LOL, that’s why I love you. You’re not like every other bullshit celebrity.’ It shows an artist detaching from the matrix of trying to micromanage perfection. It’s about not caring. So, it’s not really about poop at all.”

Speaking of poop – which I assume comes out of the same instrument that John Mayer speaks from – I’ll bet that’s exactly what the interviewer did every time Mayer dropped bombs like this. Every time John Mayer opened his mouth, the interviewer said to himself, ‘Fuck yes, I’m gonna be rich!’ Allow me to convert this tweet into a mathematical equation:

Twitter + poop + celebrity = (Twitter + poop) (celebrity – matrix) = caring/poop

John Mayer seems like one of those people who could yell “I AM A GOLDEN GOD!” without any irony whatsoever. Does he just say what he wants, like a guy with no filter, or does he knowingly plant comment bombs in order to seem wild-eyed and wounded? The answer is probably ‘yes.’ Not that I mind.

“If only Tiger Woods knew when to jerk off. It has a true market value, like gold bullion. First of all, I don’t jerk off because I’m horny. I’m sort of half-chick. It’s like District 9. I can fire alien weapons. I can insert a tampon. No, I do it because I want to take a brain bath. It’s like a hot whirlpool for my brain, in a brain space that is 100 percent agreeable with itself.”

He might have some Timothy Leary in there, too – or maybe Woody Allen. Possibly both. All I know is, I’d definitely hang out with him after having read this interview.


Written by sn0tteh

January 21, 2010 at 6:48 PM

6 Responses

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  1. Wow. This guy sounds *baked*. He makes complete sense to himself, i’m sure. He’s his own philosophical fan.

    Come on, who says he can’t get stoned?


    January 22, 2010 at 9:00 AM

  2. Well, if the article wasn’t lying, he WAS baked. He can get stoned all he wants – he’s John Mayer! probably gets the good stuff – but his quotes were like a one-man circle jerk of earnestness and confusion. THAT’S what I loved.


    January 22, 2010 at 12:09 PM

  3. You won me over with the first line of this post. I still stand by that first line.

    Carrie Gunn

    January 22, 2010 at 9:50 PM

  4. @Carrie As do I. But I’ll still hang out with him. Think about THAT blog post. It’s like a shiny dream.


    January 22, 2010 at 11:38 PM

  5. Finally, a reader who gets what the story was trying to do. And who gets JM in all of his crazy fractured glory. You’re one in a million, believe you me.

    (And believe you me, too, I wish I’d written that “two shakes of a gypsy” line. Now that’s genius!)


    January 27, 2010 at 5:01 AM

  6. @Erik Thanks – ‘crazy fractured glory’ is right. John Mayer is a whole ‘nother animal.


    January 27, 2010 at 9:15 AM

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