At this point, it's more or less common knowledge that John Mayer is the epicenter of the Hollywood herpes epidemic (though this chart, chronicling the spread of Derek Jeter's infection, puts the short stop on top). No smoke without fire, right? I guess my biggest complaint is that I just don't feel like I should have to know so much about him, or see his face all the time.
Not that there's anything terribly wrong with his face (I even know a really great guy who, from certain angles, looks the tiniest bit like him – but I wasn't allowed to tell him for a really long time because it seems like such an insult to be likened to Mayer in any way), but all he's used it for is spewing lousy songs and becoming a famous man slut who has not only slept with Jessica Simpson, but was mature and classy enough to bitch about her on his (does this sound egocentric: “You may have my image, but you cannot take my sound.”) blog after they broke up:
“Dear Ex Lover,” he wrote. “Perhaps you didn't understand the last time I told you to stop contacting me, so I'll do my best to spell it out for you. I do not wish to have you in my life anymore. I don't know how much more clear I can be about it. It would serve you best to move on with your life and find someone who can put up with you, because I'm done trying. I hope this is enough closure for you. Goodbye.”
I also think we'd have a hard time getting along because his tastes are terrible: he brazenly asserts that Guitar Hero was…
“…Devised to bring the guitar-playing experience to the masses without them having to put anything into it. And having done both, there's nothing like really playing guitar. I mean, what would you rather drive, a Ferrari or one of those amusement-park cars on a track?”
And yet he cried after reading The Bucket List script?! Oh, and he has Stevie Ray Vaughn's initials tattooed on his arm! You are no friend of mine, sir.
About all he has going for him in my book is a brief appearance on Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job (he reportedly counts stand up comedy among his hobbies, probably in an attempt to lure some of Zach Galifianakis's tale his way).
I'm just plain sick of the man and I'm bored to tears having to hear all about his boning. It's bad enough having to see boring old Aniston repeatedly appearing on the cover of Vogue, but the cover of Star too?