I so wish I could not blog about this, but I have to. I can’t not do it, because it’s so freaky and bizarre. So I’ve filed this under Homage to Halloween: Plastic Surgery Horrors. Real-life masks, if you will.
Here we go.
Back in the day, Carrot Top used to live in my neck of the woods, and he had a local crew that I met through my one of my very best friends. Back then we were all pretty much single, and mostly in our God-given states. Mostly.
Part of that crew was Cameron Shayne, of Budokon fame. He was skinnier and a little less suave back then, a big flirt for sure, but generally about the same. I’m glad to see that Cameron has filled out and moved up. Good for him.
Another part of the crew was comedy writer Charles Viracola. Charles…who is now Charlie, of Planet Charlie was also a flirt, but with a lot more hair back then. He was writing for Carrot Top, and Cameron was supposedly bodyguarding Carrot Top, though I can’t imagine why. Anyway, Charlie moved to LA like Cameron, shaved his head, kept on writing, and has also done very well for himself.
Then there’s Carrot Top. I never really met him, except maybe once in passing. Can’t remember. Doesn’t really matter cause even waaaaay back then I was totally creeped out by him and some things I had heard from friends of the crew. Anyway, he’s in Vegas now, and that makes sense, because that’s where all the fame-mongers and narcissistic, 15-minuters go.
So to establish a baseline, I offer you the photo on the right. That’s Charles and Carrot top likely a few years before I met them, but you get the drift.
OK, so what is my point? It’s this: have you seen Carrot Top lately?
Holy smokes. There is nothing I can write that captures what the photos below do. Nothing.
What in the HELL?
I am absolutely all for chemical and surgical self-improvement. But that’s the key: to improve. I really cannot say that the procedures or injections Carrot Top has opted for resulted in an improvement…it’s totally confusing. Is it a boy? Is it a girl? Is it a mask?
Fair, frizzy-haired, and freckled may not have been too hot back in the day, granted. But fame is, so Carrot Top had his fair share of boys and/or girls throwing themselves at him. He made that unruly red hair into his own calling card. But this, this is truly terrifying. And begs the question: what happens to some people that they totally lose track of the goal? What happens in their heads when they look in the mirror and think freaky is beautiful? When they keep on and soon they are no longer recognizable?