Following Miley Cyrus’ booty-shaking, twerk-ful routine at the Video Music Awards, we asked our favourite celebs what they thought of the most talked-about event since that time that person did that thing with the thing in front of the thing on Big Brother or whatever...
It was utterly sickening to witness that attractive and talented young woman degrade herself and commodify her own precious body in such a demeaning manner. She was strutting about in her underwear, blankly grinning like some doped-up Amsterdam hooker, a dismal icon of the continuing tyranny of the patriarchy and the escalating pornographication of Western society. Don’t steal my act, bitch!
Why does she keep sticking her tongue out? It looks all massive and weird.
Jesus Christ! What the fuck is that fucking thing coming out of her mouth? It’s creeping me out, man.
One Of The Aliens Off Of The Aliens Films
The moronic crudity of popular culture never fails to astonish my more sophisticated sensibilities. Cyrus’ performance was so soullessly coarse and devoid of sensuality that it almost distracted me from writing my latest paragraph about an ageing author having anal sex with a teenage girl.
A Great American Novelist
Well naturally I didn’t approve of Miss Cyrus’ garishly sexual dance moves and corruptively skimpy costume. But what offended me the most was the appearance of that shit-throated smug c*** Robin Thicke. And I don’t use that kind of language lightly.
The late Mary Whitehouse
Erm... I dunno really... I don’t really know who she is... I didn’t see the VMAs cos I went and sold my TV the other day... I got, like, six hundred quid for it or something, all cos Kate Moss watched an episode of Shameless on it back in 2006... Do you wanna see my shop? ... I say shop, it’s more a rag-and-bone cart, really... Well, I say rag-and-bone cart, it’s actually a stolen shopping trolley with some soggy NMEs sellotaped to the side... It’s got a chipped ceramic bust of Lord Byron in it and an ashtray full of hair... Would you like to buy an ashtray full of hair? Please, please buy my ashtray full of hair...
Remember when I took my top off in the middle of Razorlight’s performance at Bob Geldof’s Live 8? Remember? Anyone? Hello?
You think I give a s*** about that ****ing c***? My Family took her under our wing. We clothed her, we fed her, we made her the biggest star in Hollywood. And how does this c*** repay us? She ****ing leaves the Family behind her and embarks on this two-bit strip act wearing a ****ing leotard with a ****ing distorted rodent on it! She got a beef with the Family? She should do what’s right and settle it with the Family, not go around trashing my personal image in public. It’s a ****ing insult. I’m not saying she’s in danger, but schmucks have been whacked for less.
Imagine walking on your hands through the blue sky above a field and then a great mountain. Imagine your toes brush the skies and the birds whisper ancient melodies directly into the ears of your heart. No need to imagine, it’s already happening. I think that answers your question.
Of course, had she been alive in the seventeenth century, that kind of act would’ve got her burned as a witch. Now here’s a catchy little number about the demographic consequences of agrarian economic innovations of the Early Modern Period...
Zounds and gadzooks! Did one catch a glimpse of the promiscuous wagtail’s disrobed ankles?
An Outraged Victorian
I definitely have an opinion on this.
Every Journalist and Blogger
WHY IS EVERYBODY STARING AT A GIRL DANCING IN HER PANTS WHEN WE SHOULD ALL BE DISCUSSING EGYPT??!!!! COME ON, PEOPLE!!!!
What a surprise to see an attention-seeking child turn into an attention-seeking adult.