Speaking of low-rent one-trick-ponies, I ask you all to take a moment of silence and thank your goddess of choice for the prolonged absence of Carrot Top from the airwaves. (What? Hadn’t you noticed?) With any luck he’s in rehab, where he and that Olsen twin will fall in love, move upstate, and have dozens of little craggy-faced, coke-addled babies who’ll shill anything for a buck.
UPDATE: I have been informed that the aforementioned Mr. Carrot Top (aka “Brian”) will likely not be procreating with either of the Olsen twins because he is, in fact, a fudgepacker. To paraphrase my source, who shall remain nameless, just in case he’s way wrong: “Well, dearie, he hasn’t sucked my cock, but…”
It is terrifying, no?
Nevertheless, it’s amusing to wonder if Carrot Top is really a bottom–and, conversely, too, too disturbing to envision him a top.
ANOTHER UPDATE: I’ve received a second email asserting CT’s penchant for cockgobbling. In the words of my source, who alleges that CT likes to party on his knees, “Dial down the center, indeed.”
(No, I don’t know exactly what that means either, but my source is admittedly smarter than I, and it sounds terrifically nasty.)
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