Dear Miley: Grow Up Already (Pop Cop)

I’ll keep it short, don’t worry. It will be as short as the item of clothing you call shorts that you wear which really are two tiny pieces of material stapled or scotch taped together so you look like the trash princess you appear to be. My newborn daughter wore more clothes than that. Nobody wants to spend time writing about you or reading about you, I’ll give you a few sentences. You are not worth more than that at this time. We don’t care who or what you are nipping or licking or playing with, be it boys, men or teddy bears. We’re sick of you, overindulged pop stars with a sense of entitlement and no sense of responsibility to yourself or your younger fans. If you want to smoke grass at some public event, we don’t even care about that. Shame you didn’t do it in the US because then I would have loved to see the police politely handcuff you and sit you down on your rather naked butt and drive you quickly to the police station. Now, THAT would have been a SHOW!

Smoking a joint on a national television show, that shows real class. I’m sure your parents are very proud of you. (In case you don’t understand, both were sarcastic remarks.) Why don’t you give everyone a break and hide out someplace safe and quiet and away from drugs and alcohol and find something to do with your life except embarrass yourself? Trust me it would be better than what you are doing now. In fact, I guarantee it. By the way, the song below? Aptly named to describe your life.  Enough said. If you end up like all the overdosed, dead pop stars, that’s your choice. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.