With friends like these, who needs enemies?
I’ve decided that Miley Cyrus doesn’t have any friends. Well, not good ones anyway.
Now, before you get all uppity and say that I’m being slanderous and merely jumping on the hate train and shouting ‘choo choo choo’, hold on for just a moment. I’m not saying this with an ounce of vindictiveness. This isn’t some primary school insult. She’s just a bit of a billy-no-mates.
That’s not to say that she lacks fans, respect, colleagues, even associates. Just glance at her twitter and the love is plain to see: at this moment in time she has 16, 875,106 followers. I have 9. I can’t even say that number out loud without having to pause and think it over. That’s pretty much the population of London and New York combined (the first two cities I looked up on google). But then again, I don’t think that every one of them would be invited to pop over for a cup of tea when she’s got the snuffles.
Of course, there are the celebrities. She’s often pictured alongside celeb big wigs; Pharrell Williams, Selena Gomez and all the other hyper beautiful people that roam seductively around LA. But according to a recent interview with We Love Pop magazine (I’ve never heard of it either) she isn’t into the whole celebrity friend thing. Instead she ‘hangs out with the randoms.’ Well if these are her friends, they’re doing a poor fucking job. These people aren’t friends. Well not ‘real’ friends.
Real friends are like sharks. They’re predatory monsters. It’s more than likely they don’t even like you. Real friends think you’re an absolute twat, and will have no qualms saying it to your face when you’re at your happiest. On your wedding day. They’d probably take a shit on the cake.
Your best of friends are there for one reason and one reason alone: to belittle everything you do so that you may never rise above them. They exist to keep your ego in check.
As a case in point, let’s look at a recent gig we had. I decided to nip out to the January sales and buy a few pairs of jeans because every other one has holes in the crotch from surprise games of leapfrog at 3 in the morning (that isn’t a euphemism). I picked up a lovely pair of light gray jeans for the primary purpose of smart casual wear. Being such, I decided to wear them for the evenings gig. Proud as a pony I walked into the venue with my fresh pair of slacks on. The first words I hear that evening after stepping off stage:
‘You look like a right nob head’
‘Who wears white jeans you twat’
Now imagine what would happen if I’d came in like a wrecking ball, wearing nothing but a smile with my cock strapped up to my back. I don’t think I’d be able to walk. And that’s not just because of the genital situation.
It’d probably look something like this
Friendship stands as this everlasting bond to stop us from doing something we may regret. I count my friendship groups as one of the best for such a scenario. If ever someone tries to rise above their stature they are struck down twice as fast. That’s how it should be. No matter how great my own, or my friends successes, they must immediately be chastised for them. One of the group is an officer in the army with a BMW. Naturally he’s an upper class toff suffering from a serious crisis of sexuality with a hair dressers car that acts as proof.
This is something that Miley’s been missing. Let’s put it this way, if she had a stable group of friends she’d probably be a bit more like the rest of us: terrified of the awful photos they had of her shitfaced with her tits out in a kebab house at 2am. Instead she’s getting them out willingly for Terry Richardson and calling it art. If these photos are art, then call me Jackson Bollock.
Ultimately, I think that’s the whole point of this post. I may seem like an absolute arsehole taking the piss out of a beautiful young girl who’s been thrust into a highly obtrusive life style which has resulted in a rebellious reaction that was only to be expected, but I’m really not. I just feel sorry that she doesn’t have a group of vicious bastards like mine to do just that. The people that are cruel to be kind, whether we want them to be or not. She’d be more than welcome to join our group. We’d love her no matter what, even if we didn’t always show it.