Unexpected Good: Miley Cyrus Rolling Stone Profile Edition

Unexpected Good: Miley Cyrus Rolling Stone Profile Edition

We read the Rolling Stone profile of Miley Cyrus expecting the worst — expecting to have all our pre-conceived notions confirmed. Some of them were. But of course, as is to be expected with pre-judging, we were also proven wrong. Miley made some cogent arguments against censorship, she proved to be funny, and the whole affair ended with this, one of the greatest paragraphs we’ve read in a long while. Thanks to Josh Eells and the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.

Everyone piles into an SUV, with Miley checking her lipstick in the passenger seat. Cheyne leads the way, and our whole crew blows past the line in the lobby and gets escorted to a prime corner booth, which Miley calls “the birdcage.” The promoter gives her a hug and sends over a bottle of vodka. The club, which features a twisted, live-action roving variety show, feels like something out of Stefon’s wet dreams: There’s an old male stripper in leather hot pants, fishnet­wearing go-go dancers, a miniature Psy dancing to “Gangnam Style.” Amazon Ashley, the six-foot-seven burlesque dancer whom Miley mimed anilingus on at the VMAs, comes over, topless, except for pasties, and gives her a massive hug. “I Believe I Can Fly” plays on the PA, and a bummed-looking Oompa-Loompa, who is attached to a cable via a hook on the back of his overalls, gets hoisted up to the ceiling and dropped down to a table of girls, where he delivers a bottle of liquor.

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