Maybe somebody should really call their daddies. And their mommies who can teach them some manners.

Today, the girls behind the smutty Barstool Sports “Call Her Daddy” podcast, which caters to aspiring Instagram strumpets and fumbling virgins trying to navigate their first erection, came after The Post.

Let’s go to the tape.

In December 2018, the paper arranged to give the two fembot facsimiles of Canal Street Kardashians a platform. We accompanied a straightforward profile of the non-dynamic duo (Alexandra Cooper and Sofia Franklyn) with a photo shoot that was suggestive but not tasteless— a major, major upgrade for them.

A year later, they must have run out of orifice violations to talk about. Because the gutter Dr. Ruths brought up the Post shoot to blast it as “embarrassing” while padding their grievances with bits of revisionist feminist fan fiction.

I am a huge fan and vocal supporter of Barstool Sports. I’ve been a Stoolie since the early days back in Boston and have publicly applauded as the site has grown in influence and size. They embody a pirate ship mentality that I believe is important in today’s culture and media landscape. There are so many supremely talented and nice folks who make magic there on a daily basis. And then there are these two. I don’t listen to their show because I value wit and cleverness, none of which they possess.

Plus I’ve heard from sources that they are intolerable egomaniacs with outsize impressions of themselves. But hey, more power to them. They don’t affect my life.

That is, until these sinverguenzas came after my hardworking colleagues with lies.

On Tuesday’s episode, they spun a monstrous tale about their experience with us, which included a drunk make up artist, a photographer that made them, gasp, pose in a men’s bathroom and us engaging in standard practice and not using their names in the headline. Narrator: No one knew their names.

“We had just started ‘Call Her Daddy.’ We were so naive,” one said of their decision to participate in the story and shoot. They’ll be interested to learn that they are still naive. And clueless and entitled.

They called our talented makeup artist “heavily intoxicated” and said she “was pretty much seconds away from a blackout” which is a bald-faced lie and maliciously trying to torpedo someone’s career.

Then they were annoyed that our photographer made them pose in a men’s restroom and take “15 photos of us next to urinals.”

What prudes.

It was so embarrassing and demeaning for them that while on set dumb said she whispered to dumber, “This is so stupid, it’s going to ruin our careers.”

You mean your careers where you talk about various forms of copulation using lowbrow language that makes Playboy letters look like Chekhov. Perhaps they are too inexperienced to know how a shoot works, but at least learn how the sausage is typically made before sounding off.

It was so deeply embarrassing to them that the art from that particular shoot inspired numerous young fan girls to ape their looks for Halloween, which they proceeded to proudly share on their instagram stories. Cooper was so stung, she still has numerous celebratory instagram posts about the shoot and the story live on her feed.

Then they were upset that they were in a “dungy” not dingy sports bar and noted that it wasn’t the Ritz Carlton.

These birds thinking they were too good for a sports bar and wanting a 5-star posh setting is like Blac Chyna demanding to sit on Queen Elizabeth’s throne.

They were dismayed to learn that we write short pithy headlines in the paper. We had the gall to not put their names in the headlines. I’ve profiled numerous bona fide celebrities who don’t get their names in the headlines.

Perhaps my favorite part was that the Cooper girl was upset that we put Noah Syndergaard in the story and his nickname, “Thor” in the web headline. The pair dated a few years back and were photographed making out at Knicks games, so it was public knowledge. Our reporter didn’t ask her directly because they were told she wouldn’t talk about it. However we would be negligent and look foolish to not mention their relationship in the copy.

A delusional Cooper tried to play the faux feminist card and moaned, “They are objectifying me as a girlfriend.”

She dated him. It’s a fact, just as where she grew up and went to school. And if their podcast is about dating and sex, her sex life should be fair game.

People who proclaim to be fearless can’t have it both ways: be edgy and then pull back the reins when they feel it doesn’t suit them.

At the end of their diatribe, they decided they were so burned by what can only be described as a flattering article that they have issued a moratorium on press. Lucky US!

Though they said they would lift it to do a story with “Rolling Stones” which I’m sure is a popular trade magazine for rock collectors in wheelchairs.

The real Rolling Stone is a woke machine that will destroy them on sight by virtue of their employers. We at least gave them a fair shake.

While they pride themselves on being edgy, the only thing their ill-advised rant revealed was this: they lack the basic savvy and grace to make it in this industry.

And maybe, just maybe, probably definitely, they’re not all that racy behind closed doors. They’re just really uptight frauds.