I do not like you. You are fifty. Put some clothes on.
I am also having issues with your arms. I dislike them as much as I dislike you. Because of your ungodly arms, I have come to the conclusion that you are not actually human.
I also highly dislike your singing, and when your music videos are on my tv I throw up a little in my mouth before changing the channel even if there's nothing else good on because quite frankly, I would rather watch Divorce Court than listen to you.
You represent all that is evil in this world; however, I will reconsider my opinion if you decide to wear pants in your next concert.
Please do not bother me any longer.
PS. Only fifteen more years until you're a pensioner!