My life blows. Everyday I wake up to some fool sticking his hand in me like a puppet. Who does this guy think he is? You're not Michael Jackson. Just give up. Your best days are behind you, and a music career is not the way to go. Don't you know everyone is just making fun of you? And take down that pathetic alter to your own career. I mean, we all love The Lost Boys, but License to Drive? Really? I'm surprised that a poster for that dreck was even manufactured, let alone actually put on a wall somewhere. And what is the deal with this whole Corey's Angels thing? What well-adjusted adult woman would give up her life to hang out in skimpy lingerie at the home of the star of Meatballs 4? Oh, did I say "home?" Oops, pardon me. I meant "Feldmansion." Yeah, I really just said that, "Feldmansion." Man, your life is sad enough already, now you have to name your house like a McDonalds sandwich? I just wanted to cover someone's hand. I just wanted to keep someone warm. Now I'm stuck shaking hands with Todd Bridges and Pauly Shore at a pathetic "Pajama Jammy-Jam" house party. Kill me. Please.
Disclaimer: I love Corey Feldman and wish him the best of luck in revitalizing his career. It would just suck to be his glove, and let's face it, he's kind of an easy target.
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