John Mayer is on the cover of Rolling Stone Magazine!
He talks about Jennifer Aniston, masturbation and paparazzi.
On his split with ex-girlfriend Jennifer Aniston:
“I’ve never really gotten over it. It was one of the worst times of my life… I have this weird feeling, a pride thing, for the people I’ve had relationships with. What would I be saying to Jen, who I think is fucking fantastic, if I said to her, I don’t dislike you. In fact, I like you extremely well. But I have to back out of this because it doesn’t arc over the horizon. This is not where I see myself for the rest of my life, this is not my ideal destiny.”
On his sex life becoming an endless loop of new girls rejecting him in clubs:
“Blowing me off is the new sucking me off!”
On finding a girlfriend:
“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 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? …I’ll be happy when I close out this life-partner thing. Think of how much mental capacity I’m using to meet the right person so I can stop giving a fuck about it.”
On his relationships:
“All I want to do now is fuck the girls I’ve already fucked, because I can’t fathom explaining myself to somebody who can’t believe I’d be interested in them, and they’re going, But you’re John Mayer! So I’m going backwards to move forward. I’m too freaked out to
meet anybody else.”
On masturbation:
“I am the new generation of masturbator. I’ve seen it all. Before I make coffee, I’ve seen more butt holes than a proctologist does in a week.”
On if he pleasures himself daily:
“I don’t like that question, because it seeks to make me sound strange if I say ‘Yes, but of course I do.’ I mean, I have masturbated myself out of serious problems in my life. The phone doesn’t pick up because I’m masturbating. And I have excused myself at the oddest times so as to not make mistakes. If Tiger Woods only 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.”
On the paparazzi:
“I’ll be honest with you. All this weird shit about me? All this strangeness? I wouldn’t have a music career without it. But I am at odds with myself. I have some presence of psychological damage from the past 36 months. I have not had a woman appear in my dreams sexually without a paparazzi in the dream too. I can’t even have a wet dream without having to explain to someone who’s grinding on me, We can’t do this right now, because there’s a guy over there taking pictures.”
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