The treasured Miley Cyrus movie, The Last Song, was finally available at our local movie gallery, Rays. I rented it without a moment’s hesitation because I had to find out for myself how horrid Miley Cyrus’s snaggle tooth is. The rumors were true, slap some Invisiline on that girl. It actually wasn’t too dreadful but if one has more than enough money to correct a little noticeable imperfection, such as a snaggle tooth, why not fix it? I fixed mine and now the kids at school don’t make fun of me. Life is great. Perhaps Miley believes it adds character to her smile, her persona. Honestly, no matter what the child does, she’ll always resemble a little chipmunk to me. She could definitely be the fourth chipmunk addition to the current three. Her voice is nasal enough to join that little band as well. She’s set.
But the movie, overall, was fairly decent. I guess I am just embarrassed about the fact I couldn’t stop crying near the end. I am embarrassed by the fact that a Miley Cyrus movie affected my emotional well-being enough to induce tears. Tears I will never be able to get back. Oh well, it just goes to show that even the toughest of the tough can convey emotion. I used a whole roll of toilet paper I could’ve used on my ass but that’s the price I pay for putting in that video. Miley’s boy-toy in the movie was the equivalent to a babe and a half and has become a recent addition on my “To-Marry” List.
My younger brother walked in on my drooling, babbling self. Pointed. And laughed. I tried to throw my snotty tissues at him but it was to no avail. I was emotionally drained at this point and could do only one thing: cry.
Congratulations Miley Cyrus. You got the best of me. Just know, that I “Can’t Be Tamed.”
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