I wish this was treason..
Here's Billy Ray Cyrus and aw shucks he can't get enough of making our kids dumb. Like with Dirk Diggler in Boogie Nights, God gave each and everyone of us a special little talent that sets us aprat from our peers. Sadly, as in the case of country Chewbacca, we learn that it's better to brick and mortar yourself into a basement and voluntarily punctuate your crap discography instead of going nuclear on what's left of your credibility.
Maybe we're setting the cart on fire. There's no Achy Breaky remake without the Wrecking Ball, and there's no off keyed, pale skinned opossum without Achy Breaky. How's that for a conundrum?
Here's the tape. It starts with the ghost of Larry King and parlays into the exquisite work from the lyricist/poet known as.. (get ready).. Buck 22. Cycle in some 90's booty dancers and you have a true abomination that's only rivaled by a Jihad rap video with two heads and tentacles that shoot out of the singer's genitals. Watch if you want. I'm going to find a corner to cry in.