The time: 4 p.m.
The date: September 27th
The place: 7th Avenue at 54th Street
Sighted: "Just saw Carrot Top buying a salad at the corner of 54th and 7th. Totally knew just from the back of his head that it was him, then confirmed by passing him. Vastly overgroomed eyebrows, huge muscles—looks like a real-life cartoon character!"
Why someone hasn't yet assassinated Carrot Top is beyond me. Just to be clear—Carrot Top is 100% obsolete. And yet, according to his IMDB entry, Carrot Top sells out "over 200 shows a year." The honest frightening truth is: If you try to purchase a ticket to his show tonight at the Luxor in Vegas, the best available ticket is in the second-to-last row. And that ticket will cost you more than $50.
But apart from Vegas, the only paying gig he had in recent memory was as the spokesman for 1-800-CALL-ATT, a service for prisoners who need to harass ex-lovers. As the very concept of calling people and making them pay for it is odious, Carrot Top's steady gig vanished with the advent of this new and unforeseeable cellular phone technology and he was left with only the National Suicide Prevention Hotline in his Fave Fives. Now his only other non-Vegas income appears to come from his set at the wildly outdated Friar's Roast, posthumously hosted each year by Rodney Dangerfield and Walter Matthau. And if "roasting" Jeff Foxworthy and Drew Carey counts as a career, it's time for America to reevaluate.
Beyond Carrot Top's outdated career, there is the obvious—have you seen him lately? He was always a monster, but he couldn't just stop with the juicin' G.I. Joe physique. Sadly, sometime in the early 2000s, Carrot Top took matters into his own hands when he put silly putty on his face, ran into a wall and then drew eyebrows on in order to achieve his desired result of looking like an R.L. Stine Goosebumps character. Getting laughs any way one can is respectable, but his face is nothing to laugh it. It's horrifying. There is not enough room in this (stalk of the) town for two 'roid raging readheads, and America already has Danny Bonaduce.
This is our a public plea to all media outlets to stop filling the internets and airwaves with pictures and stories about Carrot Top. Every we time we read about him, minutes of our lives are wasted and possibly years shaved off. (This is happening to you right now!) He scares little children and countless people have had to acid-peel their eye layers. Until he is obliterated from the national consciousness, we remain prisoners in our own country, constantly on guard against any alarming pictures of him wearing a visor and lifting weights, living in fear that at any moment he could be given a special on Comedy Central. America cannot rest easy until he is finally nabbed: help us, To Catch a Predator!