Miley Cyrus Offended My Butt, and I'm Not Taking it Sitting Down

Dear Miley,

 

Please put on some pants longer than your vagina and have a seat, I'd like to speak with you about something. Yes, you may finish your joint before we begin. What was that? Sorry, your horse teeth are distracting.

 

I'd like to discuss your newest hit "We Can't Stop." While several of the lyrics are embarrassing to white people everywhere (“We run things, things don’t run we”? What the fuck does that even mean?), I take up the biggest issue with your thoughts on probably the least white thing about me: my butt.

 

For the sake of time, we will just leave the explanation at this: my butt is bigger than most. Whether it’s the Italian genes or the Polish genes fighting it out inside of my jeans, I don’t know, but thank God I can cook well and carry on a decent conversation or else my donk would probably be the only thing I’ve got going for me. I used to hate it, just because it was a whole lotta junk in a 5”1’ trunk, but we’ve since grown fond of each other and I’ve learned to accept that bikini bottoms in a size small are officially a thing of the past.

 

In “We Can’t Stop,” you spit a few fresh lines which do not sit well with what I sit on. Tell me if you remember the following lyrics, or if you were too jacked on Molly to know what the hell was happening:

 

To my home girls here with the big butt

Shaking it like we at a strip club

Remember only God can judge ya

Forget the haters 'cause somebody loves ya

First of all, you don’t have home girls. Being as you are engaged to an Australian, you might have “mates,” but you most definitely do not have home girls. Take out your aluminum foil grill and be ashamed. Secondly, just because you’re on YouTube twerking in a Japanese animal onesie, you are by no means entitled to consider yourself in the same pool of girls who are shaking it on the daily. Your boney little butt stops moving the second the rest of your body does; mine carries twerk waves for at least an extra second and a half after I cut it out. It’s fucking magic.

The next two lines officially made me want to throw you down the mountain that you climbed up when you were still answering to Disney and keeping your protruding collarbones under wraps. Why would God judge me for having a big butt? He’s got homophobes and Republicans to worry about, I highly doubt baby having back is on the top of His list. You clearly have never had a substantial amount of booty to work with, because if you did, you would realize that girls with big butts don’t have haters. Not even one. So no, it isn’t just “somebody” that loves me, it’s the whole damn drug-addled party in your music video, especially the kid rolling around with slices of bread.

I’m glad that you’ve found a new identity and that we will all get to compare your rap career with Amanda Bynes’, but next time you’re trying to be ‘bout that life, realize that your white-legging-clad tush maylook good in theory but at the end of the day, God, haters and Sir Mix-a-Lot himself want buns, hon.

Love,

Skylar

 

 

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