Behold, The Death of Sleep:
What's not for bepimpled and undersexed fifteen-year-old boys to love about this classic Baen cover? A barely-clad bimbo in an impractically skin-tight spacesuit jetpacks provocatively in front of a Jovian planet, no doubt rocketing off to an extraterrestrial adventure that will require her to shed said impractical spacesuit and wander about some cold uncharted planetscape buck naked. Our heroine is so busy demonstrating the effects of zero gravity on breast orientation (one went east, one went west...) that she forgot to put her helmet on before leaving Europa.Which might be why she looks so tired. I hope she doesn't get sucked into the eddy in the spacetime continuum that just popped up in the lower left.
Meanwhile, back on Earth...
With Baen around, it's all too easy.
This cover reminds me of Bladerunner, except Bladerunner doesn't suck. [Disclaimer: no, I have not read this book. In order to stave off angry letters from Wismer worshippers, I'll add that I'm sure the book is one of the greatest works of fiction crafted in the 20th century and I'm not worthy to clean the dog doo off of Don Wismer's riding boots. I must admit that with a metaphor as weak as "the sargasso of space" on the cover, I'm hardly tempted to read further. Besides, might I remind the gentle reader that the point of this blog is to destroy crappy covers?]
This cover looks like it was put together by Tom of Finland (NSFW link here), only its falls short of the requisite number of bulging penises. We do have a nice pornstache, though. I suppose this is what Clark Gable would have looked like if he'd lived long enough to play a private dick in a cyberpunk adventure, complete with black-trenchcoated femmes fatales and pseudo-Japanese neon signage.
Well, snark away, loyal minions! I hope this post will hold you off for a little while as I try to prod Maughta into giving you some more goods real soon-like.