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i'm wearing my 'team miley' tee.

October 4, 2013

 

What is the megalomaniac madman Liam Hemsworth doing! How could he turn his back on Miley Cyrus just as things are turning up the heat and becoming the kind of saucy situation that I trawl through numerous pornsites and many an ‘incognito tab’ in the vain hope of finding, for her amazing antics are willy-hardening gold dust. I mean how could this ‘man’ of the Hungry Games fame leave such a fantastically fine ambassador of feminism at the slippery wayside, for Miley is a perverted pioneer who has simply been cast in a bad light. She is exemplary and a modern day suffragette that is clearly fighting for every pimps right to prostitute former Disney stars on a level that has never been serenaded before.

 

Ok so there seems to be a trend suggesting that the music industry is hell-bent on destroying its young female population, somewhat making LAs tittie-tastic title ‘The City of Angels’ superbly oxymoronic and voyeuristically ironic. I mean this misguided soul is nothing but a victim of her own starlet success, taking the crown of child star without any competition at all. Not easy to handle as exhibit A suggests – Lindsey Lohan. But Miley didn’t stop there, oh no. For this soldier followed up said success with a hard lined refusal to just sit back and revel on the top of the podium, instead choosing to squat over her regal and majestic tiara and twerk all over it. Now that’s commitment to her career and applause needs to be initiated in respect to her unrivalled work ethic.

 

Now don’t get me wrong, I know she’s a role model, but she’s also just a kid, and one that seemingly only makes poor decisions with regards to her public image and grand performances, for I am yet to see any pictures of her performing the ‘double-barrel’, using two rolled-up ‘Benjamin’s’ to knock back a couple of lines of cocaine. Nor have I seen any photographic evidence that she’s tied-off her clitoris in a last ditch attempt to find a working vein for her absent heroin addiction. At most she dabbles in a spliff or two, and who can blame her, especially with this absolutely mental media hype surrounding her twenty-four seven.

 

She danced provocatively at the MTV Awards to a song that received poorly constructed criticism for its lyrics and decadence, a song that incidentally went to number one on over twenty-five different charts and / or billboards around the world. You people of the globe seemed to love that song in other words. Then Miley gave the famous foam finger some kudos and sex appeal after years of it being exclusively enjoyed by theatregoers and subjected to the filthy mitts of larger louts at American football matches. Fuck every time I see that nail polished and foamy hand now, I just wanna know if it wrap itself around me and get the job done, ya’ll know what I’m saying.  Goddamn it people, she even managed to make me jealous of a wholly inanimate object that is used to destroy buildings and dreams. I mean what happened to credit where credit is due, people.

 

She’s having fun while she is young, trying to ignore the stresses enforced on her by this ruthless media frenzy, and all the while doing it with utter style and flipping the bird to corporate run industries that make money out of her in every way possible. For instance, she’s signed to Walt Disney Records, subsequently making the executives crazy rich so that they can enjoy their weak Long Island Ice Teas as they relax upon their super yachts of bad taste. Then there are the likes of the Warner Bros owned TMZ, which makes money from dragging this poor lass through the dirt, over and over again. Build her up and watch her fall. Thus I salute you MC, for all you’re doing is telling these self-fellating fucks to swivel on it, whilst enduring the witch-hunt that is nothing more than a poor excuse for journalism.

In fact, the only place that erotically painted foam finger should be pointing, other than her private python syphon, is at the people who read this terrible tis-was in the likes of More Magazine, Mail Online and Who Gives A Famous Fuck. Keep it up Miley C, you’re showing the world that you’re not going to bow to the career pressures of unwarranted attention, at least unwarranted to this extreme extent.

 

So what if she did yet another wonderfully raunchy Terry Richardson photo shoot where she is bending over in a terrific thong or pulling her underwear in tight to make them no more revealing than those shown in every other Rihanna or Madonna music video. Who gives a knob shake that she’s then being professional photographed as she grabs hold of a beer can penis. Every single celebrity wishes they had the chance to work TR. Look at Big Sean and Naya Rivera, and then look at my face of envy as I wish that beer can was part of my jealous anatomy.

 

Miley Cyrus is still young. She is enjoying her time as an adolescent. She is partying, but to exactly the same extent as the other top-of-their-game-height-of-their-fame stars, and she’s partying a whole lot less than I was at university, and she’s being more sensible than I was too. I just had no ‘Will Watch’ TV camera’s pointing at me all day every day. Miley promotes the idea of living this lottery win of a life to the fullest, and making sure she wears a smile whilst doing it with style too, and what’s more exultantly essential than feeling fantastic and fulfilling ones time with flair.

 

You people are the ones that keep the media fire burning. You are the culprits, the ones that are filling your time with Miley’s antics, judging her without the grounds to judge or legs to stand on. Damn, I wish I was soaking up that much pleasure, making everything I touch completely content, wrecking balls included, and remaining relatively responsible while doing so. Miley is making life irrationally interesting for millions of people around the planet and doing what an entertainer should do by profession, yet she still gets fortuitous flack. I don’t get it. So what if she misheard Ludacris’ lyrics, somewhat becoming a freak in the street and a lady in the bed. I dig it.

 

But for those of you who are sat in the cheap seats and haven’t quite understood where I stand on the whole former Hannah Montana discussion that dominates the airwaves, ‘news’ channels, magazine covers and television spots, I’m quite simply going to be located in the front row of her next gig, wearing my TEAM MILEY tee and mickey mouse shoes. 

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As a shameless opportunist, I'm going to use this footer area to remind you that I am a NUMBER 1 BEST-SELLING author, which means  you should probably go and buy my books, or my super-duper-rubbish artwork, or at least very least come back every 6 months to make all this sort of worthwhile. (I realise this totally contradicts the self-deprecating message of my website, but my imaginary agent said I should put it down as an afterthought. So I have. Happy now imaginary agent?)