I think if I ever decided to found an intelligence agency, you would be my first pick for super-spy. You would also be my first pick as head chef in my kitchen. And the frontrunner in my band. And the seeker on my quidditch team. Hell, I'd beg you to be the leader in my knitting circle.
Wanna know why? Because you're perfect.
Hideously, despicably perfect.
And my goodness gracious I am so happy that I don't live in your universe because if I was there the first thing I would tell you is:
Then, everyone would undoubtedly beat me up because you have the backing of the entire planet, since you can seduce them with your innocent face and beautiful hair. The men would especially enjoy taking a swing at me because I dared offend your precious, delicate sensibilities, because they are all hopelessly in love with you. The women act unreasonable as well. Despite the fact that you have stolen the entire male population from them, they find themselves unable to hate you, because you are simply too sweet and understanding.
Oh, I know you don't mean to be so absolutely amazing. The author is purely at fault here. I know sometimes you are an accident, a broken condom in the mind of a usually sensible writer, but they should have known to use protection. Every single person is born with a natural inclination to prevent disease, so you should have never spread. I think I just compared you to an STD. And that's okay (for me, anyway).
The saddest part is that even after this nice little heart to heart we just had, you're still going to run around telling everyone:
Dishonor on you and dishonor on your cow,
P.S. - I just want to make it abundantly clear right now. Miley isn't lying (as long by "me" she means ME, Amber). I'm the one you need to make happy. It's time for some reform.