Yesterday, Paper spit up the cover image of a sucio creature and a pig looking like something out of Charlotte’s Web: Wilbur’s Dark Years, and if you needed a hypnotist to rid your brain of that image, you better make another appointment with them. Because Paper squirted up more pictures from their Miley Cyrus cover shoot including this one of Alvin, Simon and Theodore’s backwoods third cousin looking like she’s anxiously waiting for Jabba the Hutt and his homies to finish up already. That is some serious Star Wars porn parody ART for your eyes.
If you can pry your eyes away from Miley looking like The Thing shat her up, she also said some words to Paper. Miley Cyrus once again talked about how she’s a vegan bi-sexual genderqueer (Side note: I really need an interview between Miley and Jerry Seinfeld NOW) who is trying to make a difference when she’s not dry humping the faces of little people in magic mushroom costumes and getting the ying and yang symbol tattooed on her right ass lip in glitter ink.
Miley quit eating animals and everything that comes out of animals after her dog Floyd (RIP FLOYD) was killed by a coyote: She was touring the world in support of Bangerz, her platinum 2013 album, when her beloved dog, Floyd, an Alaskan Klee Kai, was mauled by a coyote. She quit consuming animal products almost immediately. (Note: If she cares about our animal friends so much, for why did she pull some pig abuse moves by pressing her chipmunk cooter against Bubba Sue in that cover shot?)
Miley felt like she was watching the second coming of Martin Luther King Jr. when she watched the homeless teen she helped out accept her Video of the Year award at the MTV VMAs last year: When the camera cut to Cyrus in the audience, wearing a black leather ensemble and perched, precariously, on some kind of partition, her eyes were glinting, hot. “I felt like I was witnessing a modern-day ‘I Have a Dream,’ and it had nothing to do with me,” she says. (Note: In other words, bitch was BAKED.)
Miley has ruined Christmas for all of us by telling us that Santa is a fairy tale: Although she was raised Christian, Cyrus maintains a particular contempt for fundamentalist lawmakers who rally against this sort of progressive, potentially life-saving change. “Those people [shouldn’t] get to make our laws,” she says. Those people — the ones who believe that, say, Noah’s Ark was a real seafaring vessel. “That’s fucking insane,” she says. “We’ve outgrown that fairy tale, like we’ve outgrown fucking Santa and the tooth fairy.”
Miley grew up riding dirt bikes naked, because duh: Cyrus grew up outside of Nashville with her brothers and sisters on a 500-acre farm where, she says, she began a formative practice of getting up early in the morning and riding a dirt bike around in the nude.
Miley thinks of herself as genderqueer: “I don’t relate to being boy or girl, and I don’t have to have my partner relate to boy or girl.”
Miley told her mother she was into peen and poon at the age of 14: “I remember telling her I admire women in a different way. And she asked me what that meant. And I said, I love them. I love them like I love boys,” she says. “And it was so hard for her to understand. She didn’t want me to be judged and she didn’t want me to go to hell. But she believes in me more than she believes in any god. I just asked for her to accept me. And she has.”
That’s nice and everything, but you probably don’t give three shits about that interview, because you’re just here to bathe your eyes with NSFW picture after NSFW picture of Miley Cyrus looking like she did the wrong kind of molly during an MK Ultra-themed sex party in an art gallery. This is what a Scientology initiation ceremony would look like if Uncle Terry organized them.
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