The price of fame

It's no secret that I have found the demise of my marriage a struggle. However, I consider myself fortunate. For I am not famous. I think most are aware of Miley Cyrus' trampish behaviour with Robin Thicke at the 2013 VMA. Then there was the travesty of Wrecking Ball - anyone who kisses a hammer should probably seek professional help. Now, she's penned an open letter to Liam Hemsworth, twerked a midget and smoked a j on stage. I feel for the poor troubled soul. I think she's more fucked up than me.