By Stacy's Mom's Daughter

Hey, you. Yeah, you, listening to “Stacy’s Mom” at full volume in your shitty dorm party and shouting about how banging my mom's body is. Listen up. Because I have some news for you.

No, the news isn’t about how this song was kind of uncomfortable to hear that one time you were in Walmart with your mother and they started playing it really loudly.  It’s also not about how if you really listen to the lyrics, it makes it sound like some kid was doing a lot unpaid labor for my mom by mowing my family’s lawn and that is potentially breaking some child labor laws.

It’s also not about how there are basically only two verses to this song and that in our collective cultural understanding of popular American music, this song is actually more annoying than “Mr. Brightside.” Whoever he is.

It’s about me. And about how I am just as hot - if not potentially more so - than my mother. Look, I love my mom, but she is forty-seven years old. Want to know something I have going for me? I am not forty-seven years old. In fact, I am very far away from that.

I updated my Facebook profile picture last week after only eighty-five minutes of editing it, and guess what? 140 likes, bitch. And a bunch of heart reacts, too. That only means one thing: I am hot. My mom isn’t even in the picture. I got those likes all on my own.

I know you listen to the song and fantasize about hanging by the pool with my mom. We don’t have a pool. My mom hates water.

And that line about how my mom just got back from her business trip? It was to Cincinnati and she got food poisoning at her hotel. Not so sexy now, huh?

I know you listen to the song and think about how you’re not the little boy you used to be. But let’s be real. Yes. Yes you are.

Rest in peace, Adam Schlesinger. Thank you for all the bops <3