When this picture of the two possum pussies known as Miley Cyrus and Billy Ray Cyrus came out in Vanity Fair, whores (including me) gave the side-eye, because they looked a little toooo close. It’s sprinkled with just a bit of “Incest is a game a whole family play” flavor.
In her new memoir Miles to Go (BARF), 16-year-old Miley addressed the H8RS who think her relationship with her daddy is filed under: Creepy McCreepster. Oh and yeah, Miley has a fucking memoir out. No, it’s not in TXT form. No, it’s not just an article in Highlights. It’s an actual book being released in stores. Mr. Barnes and Mr. Nobles are weeping in their graves.
Miley writes (I need proof she can actually do that), “The media has said some stuff about my dad and me being too close and too cuddly for a father and a daughter. For me and my dad it’s not weird at all. we don’t let other people tell us what expressions we’re supposed to have on our faces when we take a picture together!”
The dumb bitch when on to whine that people who make fun of her are “so full of anger, hatred and bitterness.”
How did Miley get a hold of my medical records?! Anger, hatred and bitterness are the three things my doctor told me I was full of after getting my blood test results. I already know that! But I’d rather be full of those things than caca, chitterlings and Bill Ray’s……….. Okay, okay, I’ll stop right fucking there.
And here’s some pap pictures of Miley and her little sister at their house. No, I don’t think her sister is in an open-eyed coma. She’s just motherfucking miserable! Can you blame her?