He gained notoriety for stealing the act of his sledge-hammer wielding brother, Gallagher. To counteract this affront, Gallagher (America’s foremost authority in the War on Watermelon) refocused his wrath and slapped him with a lawsuit. And thank God. Because we need another Gallagher like we need another Hepatitis.
He carved a niche for himself portraying socially awkward adolescents in B-movies the likes of Sidekicks and Ladybugs. I’m hesitant to denounce him however, because I recently learned that he committed suicide in 2003. So rather than speaking ill of the dead, I’ll abide by the maxim, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” With that said, please join me in a moment of silence…
These faux-grunge disasters were commonly seen adorning the acne-riddled backs of strip mall-roaming teens circa 1994. The fashion victims were ostensibly living the life alterna, but they were more likely to be seen slurping Orange Julius's and/or groveling for Gin Blossoms CDs at Sam Goody’s.
The mere existence of Carrot Top is troubling enough, but a freakishly bulging Carrot Top is truly a terrifying spectacle to behold. And beyond the sheer horror of it all, it’s the equivalent of putting a spoiler on a Yugo. And beyond the futility of it all, he's failed to realize that one’s musculature is inversely proportional to one’s comedic prowess. Just ask Joe Piscopo.