Pop star

 Recently a great wave of nostalgia swept over me, and I recalled the time I first attempted to become a pop star. The agent told me some things that redirected me to search for a career that better suited me.

He said:

You’ll never look good in leather.

Your fingernails have no character.

There’s a little too much gray in your chest hair.

Your singing isn’t bad enough to be good.

You don’t have a distinguishing body part.

And your songs have too many different words with too many syllables in them.

Go home.

I did. And look at me now.