My roommate is scared shitless by Carrot Top.

She won’t look at pictures of him, runs from the room if he happens to come on TV, and refuses to even say his name.

She won’t explain her fear, just whisperes that “him and a ventriloquist doll are two the scariest things you could ever see at the foot of your bed in the middle of the night.”

While my phobia is not as rampart as hers, I completely understand the fear.

The dude was weird looking even before he started on the ‘roids, but now that he’s jacked, he barely resembles a human.

Something is seriously wrong with his face, but it’s hard to tell what.

Did he get weird plastic surgery? Did the steroids melt his features a little?

Is he transitioning into a giant, muscular woman?

I hear he’s big in Vegas, which can only mean one of two things; A) people who are drunk and have lost all their money to slot machines go see him in an attempt to put themselves out of their misery, or B) they like freaks. Read More »

You know, I’m beginning to think freaks really do have more fun.

And apparently, have an easier time finding someone to marry.

This guy recently tied the knot. And his wife isn’t half bad. And apparently he did the choosing.

Is he rich? No (they call him a ‘herdsman’, and while I’m not up on my pastoral occupations, I’m gonna to take a flying leap and guess ‘herdsmen’ aren’t rollin’ in the Benjamins). Can he dunk? The article didn’t mention it.

What I do know is that he saved two dolphins by pulling plastic out of their stomachs with his “long arms”.

Eh. That’s one more good deed than the last guy I went out with.

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