I really hope the entire Cyrus family reads this – even you mister big britches Billy Ray. That weed monkey of a wife that needs switch or two, the kind you cut off the switch tree, not the husband switch to a bandanna wearing-swagger-stag lead singer of some heavy metal band.
You three listen up good. I am going to give you the straight Appalachian mountain talk each of you need because I do love you in Christ.
I found this picture-graph of your baby girl on the internets and my blood ran colder than a coal miner’s dinner bucket. I saw you years ago in that little dive yon near Ashland, Kentucky before you got all here’s your dime with the big head and achey brakey heart. Recently I’ve seen you shuffle around like a beat down hound spoutin’ nonsense and taking no claim to what you have a duty to do. You’re a man and need to take back your family NOW.
There is nothing wrong with getting back with a good fellowship and maybe takin’ another trip as a family to the river. There is nothing this world or Disney can do to keep you from the grace of God. Your little girl is crying for help with these tattoos and crazy You Tuber videos. I’m praying for you to straighten things out. I know you will, but you can’t give in to all this habber-jabber.
What in reintardnation were you thinking little missy when you got that filthy-nasty pagan dream catcher on your arm pit? Not only does it show the world you crave attention, it makes you an idolater. There are few things worse than achey brakin’ the first commandment of God’s laws.
I should say something positive because you blasted kids like that little “you did good” affirmation like lapdogs like bacon. So I’ll say something nice. At least it is on your arm pit and not your face.
If you were my daughter, you would not leave the house without a shock collar and some decent clothes to cover your body. You are almost a woman, but you act like money is a ticket ride to act a fool in public. If only money could buy you some shame! Law’s yes.
Your voice isn’t anything more special than any cocktail waitress in any biker bar that any wet county might have on karaoke night. Just because your hot pants are tight, don’t mean you need to act bigger than your britches. Don’t you go forget all about God that gave you that voice. He can take it back in a blink of an eye.
You need to stop with the pandering to the damaged and drug head people by trying to become one your own self and become the person God wants you to be. Stop dressing like a hobo and flashing that devil sign before God strikes you where you stand in judgment.
Your baby girl needs a mother, not a best friend to whore around with. You need to be strong and lead as a Christian woman for your family. That means an end to silly crushes and pickin’ up old dried up rockers like hound poo on the porch.
I hope this internets picture shakes you back to the woman you need to be for your family more than that leather clad demon shook your undercarriage. You ain’t no Misers Rockyfeller. I know you can be the stone solid mountain girl that can turn this family around.
My congregation is boycottin’ the Cyrus family until we see some better improvement.
Billy Ray Cyrus