Is it entirely shameful that I've been listening to a Miley Cyrus song on repeat for the past hour? I'm well aware of the fact that the girl can't sing, dress, or dance, and that the album is actually called Hannah Montana...but for some reason I feel that this guilty pleasure is much more justified than, say, a cd called 'Welcome to the Dollhouse.' Or that day I danced around to 'bye bye bye' for three hours. I mean.
In other news I impressed someone at a decently prestigious publication today. Granted, the last person who impressed said person is a reality tv superstar/la pseudo socialite on 14:57 of her 15 minutes of fame so I'm not entirely sure what exactly it takes to impress.
I'm thinking it's my impeccable taste in music. Hello 3 more hours of pre-teen pop.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
everybody makes mistaaaakes. everybody has those daaaaays. everybody knows what (WHAT) i'm talking aboooout
Post a Comment