miley

miley, miley, miley…why do

we care about you?

why as a culture can we not find

something

better

to do

with our

fucking

time,

than to listen to you scream & howl in

your southern drawl,

like talent was something that you had,

like being maxim’s girl of the list

was something that warranted you

the stamp of being something

interesting?

 

because you whored yourself out

(willingly pimped out by the industry)

on an award show for visual manifestations of

shitty songs that

no one in their right mind would even bother

stealing on the net,

we are supposed to think that

you are rebellious?

 

because you sang with “snoop lion”

who has obviously smoked

wayyyyyyyyy

toooooooooo

muuuuuuuuuch

pot,

in order to think that he’s the goddamned reincarnation

of Bob Marley &

now, as a self-proclaimed reggae “artist” he

chose a teeny-bopping, lil’ hannah-hick-montana

to tango her chicken legs with him,

we are supposed to think that you have some kind of

cred?

 

we are now as a culture supposed to think that

you have pulled yourself free of the

achy-breaky,

fucking country bumpkin rep,

that reveals itself

every time you open your mouth,

that you are some kind of icon for women?

like you are more than a shitty singer

performing in a shitty genre of

music?

 

um, no.

fuck that.