Good news; Miley Cyrus has finished her autobiography! Yes, we’ve reached a point where a 15-year-old Disney puppet feels entitled to publish her life story. Hey, she deserves it. We all do. Because we suck. The Sun reports:
The book deals with Miley’s upbringing as daughter of country singer Billy Ray Cyrus and reveal[s] how her solid relationship with her family, especially her mother Leticia, helps her navigate the spotlight.
Miley, who is currently filming Hannah Montana: The Movie said: “I’m not sure when it’s going to come out.
It’s finished but you’ve got a long process of editing and all that kind of stuff, so it takes a while.”
“Editing and all that kind of stuff.” Outstanding. This ought to be a real page-turner:
It was the biggest dilemma I ever faced in my life: Should I buy the life-size gold-plated pony, or the Corvette that runs on gumdrops? I hadn’t been this torn since my Teen Cosmo cover shoot, when I wanted to wear pale pink lipstick on my nipples, but Dad kept pushing for magenta because it “brings out those purty eyes of yer’n.” In the end, we compromised and settled on lavender. Because that’s what being part of a family is about: compromise.
Hopefully school administrators are preparing for a change in their curricula, because once this thing hits the shelves, Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl won’t even be suitable for ass wipe.