OK… So I will admit it.
Miley Cyrus is certainly not a woman I would kick out of bed. She is in a long list of women that I would not mind hopping in the sack with, but not necessarily like to wake up with.
Yes, I guess that makes me a “MAN”, as one of my bar friends tells me when I talk with her. We talk about things like this often. What kind of man she likes, what kind of women I like. We banter each other about things like this all the time and I always have to reminder her that my interest in women is, for the sake of this article, professional reasons, as I like to write about them and my experiences with them.
My friend, I will call her Christy for now, but she might remind you more of a prettier Rachel Rae, who likes to smoke cigars and drink scotch, and I both agree that Miley is a looker. Great body, looks like she would be a tiger in bed and might give you a ride that you would remember for some time. But we both agree, as well, that along with that body would probably come the baggage of a grade-A prima donna. But Christy, whom has never ADMITTED to being interested in women, and will probably hit me in the head when she reads this, agrees that a night rollicking in a hotel room in the heated, passionate, filthy exchange of bodily fluids with Miley, might be fun.
As long as she and her baggage were gone the next morning.