The cover of next month’s W magazine has been leaked online and it shows a naked Miley Cyrus writhing on a bed. She’s wearing nothing but some jewelry and a strategically placed pillow. I would find this picture shocking if I wasn’t so used to seeing this bitch naked. At this point it’s like looking at my cat lick its anus clean. It used to shock me but now that I’ve seen it every day for years it’s sort of old hat. She’s also wearing a long blond wig in the picture so that her normal short lesbian-like Peter Pan look doesn’t ruin the sexy vibe of the picture. No word as to how the picture was leaked. Probably some W magazine intern with a fetish for naked women with bleached eyebrows hugging pillows to their vaginas. Or Miley’s mom. Vegas is leaning toward the latter.
The thing about Miley Cyrus is that she seems to be the kind of entertainer who truly believes that no publicity is bad publicity, as evidenced by her misguided idea that because people talk about her ridiculously stupid performances, she stays on top. Take her MTV Unplugged performance last night, for example. Critics of the singer might say that she looked like a female Eminem impersonator hosting a donkey show at a Furry convention before she was joined by her slutty grandmother, and Miley would probably respond, “Shucks y’all, that’s exactly what I was going for!” It’s simply remarkable that the person with the most dignity on the stage at a Miley show is a twerking dwarf.
Photo Credits: Getty
MTV will air the new Miley Cyrus Unplugged special tonight at 9, in case you need to check your local schedule of speeding trains that you can step in front so you can be completely sure that you don’t catch even one second of it. As we know, Miley teamed up with Madonna for a duet, and the 55-year old pop star doubled down on her ridiculous Grammy cowboy costume by loading up on the rhinestones for tonight’s special. And of course they stuck their fucking tongues out, because if there’s one thing the world wants to see, it’s where all the dicks were sucked in 1986 and the landing pad for Terry Richardson’s balls in 2013.
Photo Credit: Getty
Miley Cyrus may not have even attended the Grammys on Sunday night, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have other plans for keeping the fallacy that she’s changing modern pop music as we know it alive. Later today, Miley will record her MTV Unplugged show that will “showcase a more intimate side” and feature a “re-invention of the songs that have defined her career” and whatever else the MTV press release robot came up with, but the big surprise will be Madonna stopping by to perform with her. And according to a day dream that I keep having, the studio audience will be cleared out, leaving just Miley and Madonna in the room, as a pack of wolves are led to the stage to watch me pelt the two women with raw meat. I’m available, in case MTV likes that idea.
Photo Credit: Getty
When you see French dudes in Buck Rogers villain masks, you’re typically about to be sodomized to the scent of stale cigarettes and licorice. So consider last night’s Grammy’s to be less painful than expected. Sobering up from this morning’s vitriol, I’m thinking now about Metallica playing with that Asian Van Cliburn dude, getting to see Madonna one more time before she dies, the look in Taylor Swift’s eyes revealing that she’ll never be truly happy. There were good moments. Add to that the shit that didn’t happen because certain noteworthy attention whores declined to even show up at all. Miley Cyrus. Her visionary musical abortion Bangerz was released past the artificial deadline the Grammys use to ensure the latest hot music is never heard at the event. Miley stayed home and played Guitar hero and tried to score enough points to earn a real woman’s body. Kanye West didn’t show up since his Yeezus album didn’t get nominated for being the best thing ever invented. Lady Gaga didn’t get nominated at all, so she didn’t bother her make-up artists with the sixteen hours it takes to make her look less like a fruit bat. Rihanna actually won an award of some kind, but she decided to spend the evening blowing smoke rings onboard a boat owned by somebody rich who once fingered her while she kept her tears on the inside. This is like one of those children’s books learning about how relatively speaking, shit could’ve been much worse, so be thankful. I am. Thank you, Grammy Jesus.