It's a bit of a grey area, the law. In the UK, procreation is permitted at 16, but in Vatican City it's 12. Now, there are so many cheap shots we could take here about Roman Catholic priests and underage sex, but we're better than that. We won't join in the modern day bear-baiting of Roman Catholicism, despite its beleagured past. Why? Latin, that's why. Nuff said. Refutation nullified.
Anyway, this does have a purpose. Miley Cyrus has turned eighteen, which means.... well, considering she's American it means basically nothing, because she still can't drink alcohol. We believe that until you have the legal prerogative to get shit-faced every Saturday night, you haven't properly entered into adulthood. Though she can enlist in the U.S. Army without parental consent and vote against Barack Obama in the next election, so it's not all bad.
She was also at the American Music Awards yesterday night and wore this piece of white cloth which begun its woven existence when a particularly persistent cat in Fiji began playing with a piece of cotton and just wouldn't give it up. Follow the trail, and you will eventually find what you're looking for. Just ignore the demented moggie in its wake.
So, back to Miley's birthday celebrations. Wow, that's quite an outfit. We barely noticed the cake. Now, Miley, just because you've got older and fancy yourself as a bit of a rock chick, it doesn't mean that you can pull off the biker look. Fortunately, you do though, so that was a bit of a moot point on our part. But you must know full well that you'll never quite be able to shake off the Hannah Montana image, don't you? It's the sad price of childhood fame. Which is why we always think of a prostitute when we see Jodie Foster and cry when we see Drew Barrymore, in remembrance of E.T.