I Don't Know About You.

But that's all I need.

It's certainly a Pavlovian response. 

But perhaps not the one she was hoping for.

Yeah.

If I ever do get Miley Cyrus' phone number. Then I'm definitely saving it as; "Portent of Doom."

For whenever she appears in my life. It's normally a cue for something to go just horribly wrong.

Such as that time I had to chase off a home invasion robber. While one of her videos played on the big screen in the background.

Or that time my brother decided to set himself up for a lifetime of mockery. Only to discover Miley Cyrus, of all people, had managed to quietly and discreetly get married.

So it's totally not her fault.

It's just that I have come to associate Miley Cyrus with the smell of fresh blood.

Then there was that time.

The TV Show; "The Good Place." Possibly started a rumour that I'm an Ariana Grande fan.

So ISIL, helpfully, made an Ariana Grande concert go; *BANG!*

And Miley Cyrus turned up. 

Which should tell you all you need to know.

About why I'm not in an immediate rush to share this with absolutely everybody.

Certainly not at the allegation's command.