“Hi. My name is Mark, ” I paused, speaking into the microphone, “and I like Miley Cyrus.”
Instead of the expected support group auto-response, the silence in the room was deafening. After a few more agonizing moments, a woman in the front row spoke, “Get out. Get out now.”
That’s how my nightmare goes, anyhow.
My hubby tells me if I wake up humming “It’s a party in the USA” one more time, I should sleep in the guest room.
I mean if you listen to her lyrics, she’s riding along in a LA taxicab and nervous about her trip and worried if she’ll fit in. Jay-Z comes on the radio and…problem solved! She copes, she moves on.
She’s a role model.
How is it totally okay to adore Diana Ross as a gay man, but not Miley. Let’s face it, Miley grew up around a straight man with an 80s lesbimullet; she clearly understands pain. Don’t worry Miley, I get you.