I don’t feel I need to elaborate on this at all, but for the sake of objective journalism I will. Lyrically it’s one of the most mentally void songs ever produced. There’s probably a grand total of five sentences that are repeated for the duration of the song. The result of probably about five seconds of Josh Todd’s hashed out brain storming produced the inspiring: “Hey! You’re a crazy bitch. But you fuck so good I’m on top of it. When I dream I’m doin’ you all night. Scratches all down my back keep me right on.” Pretty much repeat this bit with a couple other random words thrown in here and there for roughly three minutes and you have a “song”. Or so Buckcherry claims it to be. In all actuality it’s an abomination. What’s worse, it’s become the unofficial “jam” for any ugly, overweight, nasty woman who, in their own little worlds seem to think they’re “all that”. And a bag of chips. Which a large quantity of chips probably contributed to their physique.

Just when you think this song couldn’t possibly become any worse, the fact that it was excessively over played on the radio, coupled with the fact you hear it damn near everytime you go to a bar where a high percentage of ugly, bad bitches congregate, said bitches sing along to it. As if Josh Todd’s vocals weren’t annoyingly shitty enough, the orchestra of out of tune trash joins in for accompaniment! Whenever I hear this “number” I have an instant, predetermined set of responses: If it’s on the radio the “seek” button is smashed into the dashboard. If I’m at a bar, I instantly head towards the restroom to relieve myself. If anyone makes the blatantly ignorant comment along the lines of “I love this song!” I instantly engage them in a debate and set them straight as to why it should be loathed and not loved.