Loading... Please wait...I think someone owns a voodoo doll of me, but they're treating it like an action figure with the attention span of a toddler. One day they twist its back just to see what happens, the next they're making it walk into doorframes, forget why it entered a room, and sneeze exactly three times in a row. Occasionally they leave it sitting in an awkward position for hours, which explains why I stand up sounding like a bowl of Rice Krispies. Whoever's in charge of my little doll clearly isn't evil—they're just incredibly clumsy, and frankly, I wish they'd put me back on the shelf for a while.