It's been several weeks since the latest attack on our species first flew through our TV sets to rain havoc and biblical hell upon us. The full devastating extent of effects from this mammoth catastrophe is still unknown. We do know that within hours of first airing, hundreds of American's spontaneously combusted, while others doused themselves with mayonnaise and ran from their homes to pelt passing mail carries with unused postage stamps.

 What remains clear is that A&E's newest show “The Two Coreys,” on what used to be called Sunday night at 9 p.m., (now commonly referred as, Oh Mother CENSORED), will forever be burned into our memories.

All we can do now is wait to die. Die a painful death by Corey osmosis as the show displays the results of the 36 years of futile thespian deeds and drug-riddled idiocy that is Corey Haim and Corey Feldman. And I tell you; every time I write those names I throw up a little inside.

This last-ditch effort to remain in the spotlight will probably end up working for the Corey's. Only because we as a society love to keep our failed celebrities close by so we can look at them and feel better about ourselves.

As much as I rail about the show with righteous uppity-ness, I realize that I have a problem. Like all bad reality TV, this show is addicting. It is better than rubbernecking a car wreck because this is happening slowly over nine contrived episodes.

I had to cut off three of my toes the other day as a reminder of the pain and damage caused by viewing something so shallow.

 When it comes down to it, I guess we are happy to know we are not Corey Haim, Corey Feldman or that we are not married to a witless wonder like Susie Feldman.

Sometimes you watch and think, damn, somebody just get these two schmucks a bag of blow so we can watch the real fun. Better yet, have them call up Donny Bonaduce, get them an RV full of drugs and alcohol, send them to Vegas and see what happens. It could be hosted by ..... somebody, and have an exclusive online tie-in where, every time you click the mouse, Gary Coleman would run out in a diaper and smack one of the three in the balls with a Ping-Pong paddle! Then the other two would take a shot.

Now that's a good Corey show!

It's got to be better than an hour a week of the Feldman's whining about meat and PETA crap while Haim does his best to be mischievous.

Oh well, a guy can dream can't he? “Dream a Little Dream?” Get it?

OK, I admit that was bad. I'll never do it again. Must be all the blow I've been Coreying over the past three weeks.