John Mayer Redeems Himself.

In high school, I was obsessed with John Mayer and Jason Mraz. I lived in a small town, went to a Christian high school, and was a frumpy, short-haired rumour mill. As sheltered musical tastes matured, so did I. After Heavier Things and Mr. A-Z respectively, I decided it was time to move on. Both artists seemed either too consumed with themselves or too lofty for semi-decent bathroom humour. Junior albums didn’t seem to grow with their audience, but instead stood still while the rest of us were growing up.

Recently, Perez Hilton took a lie-detector test to prove to US Magazine that John Mayer slipped him the tongue in a make-out session. Turns out, Perez ain’t no lying bastard. Unfortunately, he’s still a parasite of popular culture.

On any given night, in any given bar, you could tap a pretty girl on the shoulder, and tell her you’ll buy her a drink if she makes out with her friend. Assuming they’ve already been bought a few non-ultimatum drinks, both girls will oblige with more gusto than you bargained for. And, since you don’t have a shot with either of them, you’ll be hauling your boner into the nearest restroom and staring your pitiful self straight in the mirror while you relieve the stress you begged so hopelessly for.

John Mayer most likely made out with Perez Hilton. The only thing I have to complain about is John Mayer’s taste.

How John Mayer subtly won his way back into my heart: