It’s definitely possible that the site of Tish Cyrus’ ass melting down her legs caused Bret Michaels brain to spontaneously hemorrhage. I myself just shit a raisin that I consumed back in second grade snack period. I can already read the letters from the ladies complaining about me complaining about Tish’s gynoid lipodystrophy. But I’m not complaining, I’m perusing, as a man might in a bookstore, an automotive dealership or a bulging drippy thigh fat exhibition center. I know everybody is riding Miley’s tip at this point cash wise. It’d be nice if the family earner could scrape off a little for mom to get a burly Eastern European woman to squeeze out that under skin butter like she’s kneading a strudel dough. Don’t let mom’s ass magma ruin her perfectly good fake tits and tattoos. That in the first Ten Commandments, you chitlin head.
Photo Credit: FameFlynet, Pacific Coast News, Splash