We Rewrote Taylor Swift’s “22” Because She’s 28 Now

If you felt the sudden urge to be petty af today, or to hit up your ex boyfriend just to confuse him, that’s probably because it is Taylor Swift’s birthday. We’ve seen Taylor grow from a 16-year-old country music star with impossibly curly hair to a 28-eight-year-old pop music graveyard girl with shorter impossibly curly hair. It’s kind of inspiring. Being that Taylor is almost 30 (gasp!!!), it’s probably time she update some of her more teenager-ey tunes to reflect her late-twenties lifestyle. You know, replacing the references to high school with references to LinkedIn, and adding in more lines about how you thought you’d be married or have a house by now, but instead you still have 5 roommates and are trolling for dick on Hinge. Inspiring stuff. 

Anyway, to help welcome Taylor into the world of old millennials, we’ve updated the lyrics to her song “22” to reflect her new 28-year-old lifestyle. It’s a lot less dressing up like hipsters and clubbing, and a lot more putting on sweatpants (because your metabolism has slowed down irreparably and they’re the only thing that fit you right now) and texting your mom about how sad you are. It’s honestly better than it sounds. 

“28” by Taylor Swift (sort of) 

It feels like the perfect night to put on pajamas
And binge watch Netflix uh, uh, uh uh
It feels like the perfect night to but shit off Amazon
And fall asleep early, oh yeah

Yeah, we’re anxious depressed overworked and hangry at the same time
It’s miserable and miserable oh yeahhhh
Oh fuck I realized I forgot all my deadlines, oh shit

Sorry I was late, but now I’m twenty eight
I cancel basically all my plans now, you’re lucky I came out
You don’t know about me, but I’m almost thirty
I don’t really need new friends, but I’ll act fake now ‘cuz I’m twenty-eight (twenty-eight)

It seems like one of those nights
I’m leaving early. This place is too crowded. Too many college kids, uh uh, uh uh
It seems like one of those nights
We Irish goodbye
And drink some boxed wine

Sorry I was late, but now I’m twenty eight
I cancel basically all my plans now, so you’re lucky I came out
You don’t know about me, but I’m almost thirty
I don’t really need new friends, but I’ll be fake now ‘cuz I’m twenty-eight 

‘Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving: A Poem About Getting Lit In Your Hometown

We all know what Thanksgiving means. It’s a time to come together with 4-400 of your worst closest relatives to scream about politics celebrate all the many things you have to be grateful for that year. The night before Thanksgiving, however, is just as drunk sacred a holiday, and TBH it’s time someone talked about it. Thanksgiving Eve is the one night a year when you can relive your high school years by hitting up local bars in your hometown and trying to see if people are still hot how the people from your high school turned out. In honor of this blessed event, we’re releasing our original poem ‘Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving. TBH, I’ll be shocked if parents don’t read this to their children for many years to come.

‘Twas the night before Thanksgiving
And all through the streets
People who haven’t spoken since high school are preparing to meet
On Instagram they’re posting new thirst traps with care
In hopes that that hot guy from freshman year will be there
Grandmas and grandpas are all snug in their beds
As visions of you as a lawyer dance in their heads
My bestie in her choker, and me in my tiny-ass dress
Had just arrived at da clurb
To get twisted AF

At the end of the bar my bestie puked in a cup
So we hauled ass to the ladies to before anyone could tell what was up
Then away to the DJ we tore in a flash
And ran straight into my high school prom date, asking to crash
At my place because he was “too drunk to go home”
So I ghosted his ass because no…just no…

As the disco ball gave light to the dance floor below
My friend goes, “These dudes are all fives we should GTFO”
When what to my wandering eye should appear—a full 7, maybe 8—if I have one more beer
I felt like I recognized him, but couldn’t tell from where
I don’t remember anyone from high school having such good hair
He’s immediately swarmed by an army of thots
I guess it pays off to be like, hometown hot
Bye, Ashley! Bye, Emma! Bye, Britney and Karen!

These chicks are too thirsty, you can see them all starin’
Surrounded by people whose names I forget
I say to my bestie, “Why hasn’t he talked to me yet?”
And then in a twinkle, I heard hometown guy say, “Do you want a drink?”
And I’m like, “Okay”

That’s when I saw him, for real in the light, and immediately texted my bestie in fright
I remember this dude! This creepy-ass dweeb! It’s the guy who got a boner in home room—what was his name?—Steve?
“Steve’s hot now!” I text, hoping not to be seen
Trying to remember if I’d ever talked to him, or if I was mean
“Do you remember me?” he asked, with a goofy-ass grin
“A little,” I answer, “Ugh—is this gin?”
Then he starts going off about how I was a bitch
And I’m like, “Hold up, Mr. 7, you’re not hot enough for this!”
Then would you believe it, this freak still wants to hook up
I send a side-eye to my friend cuz like, enough is enough
I throw my drink in his face and post his tears to my story
I’m not taking this shit, I’m not nearly that horny

Where the fuck is my friend? Oh, she’s dancing on the bar
I tell her “Steve’s over. He’s cancelled. He took it too far.”
I look around me to see all the girls I used to hate
Now I have to make conversation and be fake
Some chick named Megan tells me she just bought a house
And I’m like, “Weren’t you the girl who fainted when we dissected a mouse?”
Two girls from my track team start blabbering about their kids
And I’m like “Fuck, I need to get out of here. I’m too young for this.”
I take out my phone and I call us an Uber
Just because I’m 27 now doesn’t mean I’m gonna hang out with losers

We Irish goodbye so no one notices our disappearance
Now it’s time to go home and eat pie with my parents…

Happy Hangover Thanksgiving, from my desire to show people who barely remember me from my high school that I’m cool now, to yours!

Here Are Your Weekend Horoscopes: 11/3 – 11/5

Well betches, we made it to another freaking weekend. I know you’re ready to get on with it, so we’ll keep this short and sweet. For all signs, things are looking better and definitely more fun by Sunday; you just have to make it out from under Friday’s full moon alive.


Quit plotting your moves
All good things happen in time
Better live for now

Now Hell's Kitchen


Emotions run wild
under the light of the moon
Set good boundaries


All work, no play sucks
Pour yourself a big ass glass
Wine or gin will do

Whatever SNL


Connections grow strong
True betches stay by your side
Romance is in store


Get your shit finished
Enter the weekend stress free
Make some weird choices

Friends Turkey


Life’s ripe on the vine
no, wait, maybe that just wine
Do not drunk Snapchat


Focus on your game
The finish line is in sight
Booze is a reward

Donna Parks and Rec


The sun is leaving
You have through the weekend
Your sign can still shine


Keep your plans on lock
No one needs to know what’s up
Mystery is hot

Kris Jenner FBI


Get your party on
Life will stay busy for you
Do something you love


Remember your keys
Full Moons can make you forget
Spend time with your tribe



Seek some good advice
Use caution, be positive
Do not text him first

Here Are Your Weekend Horoscopes For October 13-15th

Welcome to the Betch Poets Society. Kidding. But for this weekend’s horoscopes we’re going to switch it up a little—class it up if you will—with some haikus. *snaps* Why haikus? IDK, but go with it. It’s #cultured. For those who didn’t make haikus in grade school, haiku is a form of Japanese poetry with poems consisting of three lines. The first and last lines have five syllables and the middle one has seven. So much can be said in three lines. Try it. Text your girls, “Read your horoscope / To find out if you should rage / Or stay home and sleep.” Done. That wasn’t hard. Why did I go to college again?


Sometimes I look at 
Aries and think why. Just why
Do you do these things.



The life of a bull
Can be tedious at times.
Start shaking shit up.


Time to make the leap
It’s do or die, Gemini.
Don’t be a pussy.



Loving a Cancer
Is like trying to hug air:
You look fucking dumb.


You know what sucks, dude?
Your general attitude.
Lighten up, my guy.



Things to remember:
No one cares about your job.
Find a new topic.


You’re a free spirit.
We get it. You just love drugs.
Do them quietly.

Chelsea Handler Acid


Do you ever feel
Like a monumental dick?
Maybe you should start.


We are on a rock
Flying towards absolute doom.
Eat the fucking cake.

Tina Fey Cake


It’s time to let loose.
Get that stick out of your ass.
Let that freak flag fly.


Let’s try something new,
Try being calm for one day.
For the love of God.


Wow, you are a mess.
Even strangers are concerned.
Love yourself, Pisces.