Momservation: The harder someone tries to prove they’re grown up, the more infantile they look.
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It is the performance heard around the social media world. It lit up Twitter, setting a new record for tweets per minute. It has caused a social media storm that has the Parents Television Council urging us to grab our children and run for cover from the filth and debauchery the MTV Video Music Awards continues to rain upon us. And the Urban Dictionary is likely to crash due to adults over 30 rushing to look up “twerking.”
Miley Cyrus you have arrived.
Your parents must be so proud.
Your fiancé has to be thrilled that he scooped you up when he did.
Your friends must be giddy by association.
Your publicist so grateful for all that you’ve done…
…to ruin everything you’ve done to be taken seriously as an artist and be accepted as a quality human being.
You, Miley, are the new poster child for Maybe That Wasn’t Such a Good Idea (otherwise known as Seemed Like a Great Idea at the Time).
You, my inappropriate little lady, are single-handedly responsible for parents realizing they need to bring back spanking.
Yes, you, you nasty wanna-be of who-knows-what, have even managed to smother the out-of-control love-fest for Robin Thicke and his delightfully contagious “Blurred Lines”, turning it into something icky and casting him as an ill-advised sycophant.
You know, if public disdain and distancing from your publicity hungry peers plus venomous backlash from your fan-base is what you’re going for.
And if your daddy, Billy Ray, had an Achy Breaky heart before, well now…now it must be absolutely bursting seeing his daughter grow-up (I use the term loosely) and show the world who she’s become.
But enough of my parental congratulations on your setting a perfect example of how not to raise a kid.
Let’s cut to your acceptance speech for the VMA Award for Total Loss of Self-Respect!
First, I’d like to thank my fans. Without your adoration of Hannah Montana and the vaulted status you gave me as a beloved Disney star, I could not have come crashing down so far, so spectacularly, into this embarrassing, pathetic mess.
I’d like to thank MTV and the VMA’s for giving me the forum to so publicly and utterly humiliate myself. Thank you so much for your pride in year-after-year trying to one-up yourself in pushing the envelope in tasteful programming and giving me such a grand stage to ruin my reputation for your benefit. I so appreciate no one trying to stop me and even encouraging me to go out and make a fool of myself in the name of entertainment.
I’d like to thank my fiancé, Liam Hemsworth, for the nude bikini and foam finger. Also, for always telling me how sexy I look when I stick my tongue out, twerk, and generally look like a rabid dog in heat. I’m so glad you green-lighted bringing our sex life out in public for the masses.
Thank you also to my friends. Actually, I guess I don’t have any, because if I did they would have stopped me from this new low of self-respect.
Thank you too, to Robin Thicke, for not having the back-bone to veto this ridiculous and perverted debasing of your wildly popular song, Blurred Lines. To sacrifice all the good-will and hard work you’ve put in to finally reach the top of the pop charts and achieve universal popularity because you didn’t have the guts to tell MTV “no” means a lot to me. And I’ve always wanted your wife, Paula, to really hate me.
But most importantly, I’d like to thank my parents: Billy Ray and Tish. I could not have had this total loss of self-respect and imploded on such a grand scale without your passive support of my choices. Thank you for supporting my dreams of becoming Hannah Montana, where I earned the adoration of millions of impressionable young girls then proceeded to do everything I possibly could to trash and tarnish the image that made me stinkin’ rich (and a spoiled, brat).
Mom and Dad, I know this is all you’ve dreamed for me and worked so hard to help me become: a public disgrace who thinks proving I’m grown up just reinforces that I haven’t.