I Felt a Little Dirty Clicking on the "See Larger Image" Link on Amazon

For your Hump Wednesday viewing pleasure (if you are THAT kind of person, anyway):


I'm kinda cheating here, since this was on Fail Blog, but.... Who thought this was ok? Especially with that creepy expression? At least we know why the boy is blushing.

Happy Phriday!

Is everyone looking forward to the weekend? Probably not as much as this guy:



As if him being butt naked on the cover wasn't enough, phallicky images still abound on this cover: her ears, her tail, and of course those tentacles!! Creepy -- if I were her, I'd be worrying about what those tentacles were up to! For the guys, we have a lovely side-boob, and I think the moon is meant to be a mammary symbol too. Two questions. First, what is wrong with his fingers? They're... creepy. Second, why is she still wearing her watch?


Next, we have a look back to a time when creepy old scientists gently held their telescopes in the presence of their young ... proteges. The protege looks clearly uncomfortable. What's less clear is what that is on his arm. A band-aid? Or a weird European tribal tattoo?


Finally, while this certainly doesn't meet the requirements of a Phriday post, it made me laugh out loud. Seriously loud. My coworker in the next office came over to see if I'd snapped. (Maybe I have, but I still think the cover is hilarious!)



Why is Scotty's head floating in space? Is he supposed to be a character in addition to the co-author? Even still, WHY IS HIS ENORMOUS HEAD FLOATING IN SPACE???? I also love the "special" effect ($5.99) of that ship blowing up, or growing a purple star, or... whatever.

TGIF!

Nice socks.

I'm all for making it rich, but I'm just disinclined to actually go through all the hard work, sweat, tears, and financial instability that are required to actually get there. I do enjoy reading about others, though, who've made it big from humble beginnings. I like to dream how that might be me someday (despite the laziness noted above).

I don't want to turn into this guy, though. Maybe the cover artist is trying to demonstrate that you can make it big without any special "good looks" or that you can be weird and still make it big, or ... something. But this guy is a turnoff in all ways.

First, there's the goofy, over-eager expression on his face, like he can't wait to share his... secret... with you. Reminds me of the unpopular kid whose popular friend comes over to your table at lunch in high school to tell you that his buddy wants to go out with you. You look at the jock and get really hopeful, then glance over his shoulder to his "friend." Sad, sad letdown, while he sits there, face covered in zits and sweat, eager to hear whether he has a date to Homecoming. No offense meant. I was the female equivalent of that kid. :) But that's who he reminds me of.

I've never claimed to be a fashionista, and people who know me will quickly reassure you I'm not, but those socks are unbelievably gross. In fact, the whole ensemble makes me uncomfortable. If someone thinks it's attractive (or would be, on the right guy), please speak up. I need to learn. :) To me, it says "I was afraid I'd spill mustard on my tie, forcing me to learn how to do my own laundry because my mom won't launder my ties if there's food spilled on them, so I wore a mustard tie."

The chair. I guess that's a chair. I was in Egypt last year and saw the display of his grave goods from Tut's tomb at the Cairo museum. I think this chair was part of the collection. It looks neither comfortable nor stylish. Judging by the way he's sitting, I think the chair has given him hemorrhoids. In fact, the chair reminds me of those lion statues that wealthy people like to put in front of their homes or gates, that say: "Stay out. We're richer than you. If you don't leave, we'll sic our lions on you."

I guess I'll stay poor for the time being.

Sultry Sunday #10 - The weekly "Pop Sensation" crossover

For those of you who like your cozies a little ... spicy, I offer you this cover. Enjoy.

(syndicated from "Pop Sensation")
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Paperback 164: Dell D340 (1st ptg, 1960)
Title: The Boomerang Clue
Author: Agatha Christie
Cover artist: William Teason



Best things about this cover:

• Well, there's something you don't normally associate with Agatha Christie: BONDAGE.
• I love love love how her arms coupled with the back of the chair form a (very ironic) valentine! The red background only heightens the effect. Don't even get me started on how she kinda looks like a Catholic school girl who is at least mildly ashamed of the predicament she has gotten herself into... Or is that a look not of shame, or fear, but of coyness? Clearly, I have my own, private version of the story of how she came to be in that chair.
  
• Most of my Teason covers (lots of late 50s/60s Dells) don't have people on them. Clearly he should have done more people. The hands alone are gorgeous.

Best things about this cover:

• More broken windows!
• Random rope - did she escape!?
• I love how the copy on the back cover is typeset as if it were a poem

Page 123~

"To begin with," said Bobby, plunging [ed.: !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!], "I'm not really a chauffeur although I do work in a garage in London. And my name isn't Hawkins - it's Jones - Bobby Jones. I come from Marchbolt in Wales."

The story of a golfing legend gone deep, deep undercover.

~RP

I love my readers!

Why do I love my readers (besides the fact that you're my readers, of course)? 'Cause you tell me this: "When I see a bad book cover, I think of you." And because you send me bad book covers.

This one is from Dave, who asks, "Man or woman? And what about the inscriptions headed down towards the pubic region?" I don't know, Dave. But I notice it's about TV, which means transvestite to me!

Michael sent me several links to Amber Heat Erotica, which includes the following fine gem. I include the description because it just defies imagination. I never thought I'd see clowns and erotica in the same venue (although Michael reminds me that with the internet all porn combinations are possible).

Peter Cortland, running from the tragic loss, first of his child, then his wife, found solace and some sense of peace behind the painted white facade of a clown, the presence of one lone teardrop the only outward evidence of the heavy sorrow he carried inside. Undeniably drawn to the vibrant and beautiful aerial performer, when a terrible accident almost takes her life, in a desperate act of self-preservation he forces her out of his heart. It’s taken seven years for him to come to terms with his tragedies and now he wants another chance at the love he threw away all those years ago.

*Gag*



And finally, SecretMargo has this to say about the following cover: "Your recent "Werewolf penis" post reminded me of a book that a friend who worked for the Seattle Times sent me from their review slush pile because the cover was so amazingly horrible she thought I had to have it. She sent it all the way to Japan. I also read it, and it is just as insane as its cover, but written with even less skill than you might imagine. It actually looks worse in person. And fun to leave on the coffee table when you have guests over."



Thank you very much, gentleman. And now I must wash my eyes out with bleach.

Triple Play

Hey folks! Sorry it's been so long. I've been super grumpy due to various Asheville (Ashehell) reasons. Fortunately, my readers don't let me down. Snow found this gem for us:

She says:

Sunken cheeks and inflated boobs, oops... I mean pecs, and an excellent wax job can't salvage this cover image of Prince Mysterious and Sulky. Check out those forearms; our prince must spend a lot of time gripping that sword. The fact that he's only shown from the waist up tells me that he has chicken legs.

By the way, the editor's description sounds even worse than one might
expect from the tit-le.

In the last installment of the Children of the Sun trilogy, a shackled
virgin must choose between the monster she knows and a sexy stranger who could spell doom - or help her fulfill the Prophecy of the Firstborn.

I actually thought that the author was Linda "Wasted" Jones. Boy, if they're gonna start using author's college nicknames on books, I'd better never write something!

Bryan R. Terry has come through again with a "novels-you-can't-actually-believe-they-published" cover.

My first thought? Realdoll (link not suitable for work!). My second thought got sidetracked thinking about the publisher's name, PEC, and how obsessed this blog seems to be with pecs. And finally I thought, "Boy, she's got quite a package. Must be one of those she-male Realdolls. Kinky."

Speaking of packages, here's another romance hero without one.

Beware Lord Ware, he's not all there. The widow, however, has a nice pussy.

I guess this would be the Lack-of-a-phallus Phallic Phriday edition.

Mammary Monday -- Pulp Edition

Faithful reader Bryan R Terry has been a busy boy. He's done my job for me, and provided links to all of the following covers. (Have I mentioned I love my readers?) He swears he's not obsessed, but he knows someone who is. Su-u-u-u-ure ya do, Bryan! Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h, yeah!

Some of these are just so damned cool that it's going to be very difficult snarking on them. But I shall try (with assistance from my evil henchman, DocTurtle)...

Maybe this one should be for Phallic Phriday?

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YELLOW!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! The deleted scenes from Disney's Fantasia.

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Yet more yellow...

Starring Ron Jeremy as Mark Trail.
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"Heysh, hun, ya gotta corkshcrew under that towel or anythin'?" *Hic*

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Cypress Hill says: "Three thumbs up! Waaaaay up!"

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Ole'!

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"Please don't eat my ear. My ear is not for nibbling."
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"She is a Pirate Weeeeeeeeench! And she has, she has an awful stench 'cause she's a Pirate Wench!"

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Boy, Annie Lennox is totally mackin' on Bette Davis there.

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"Consider this an intervention!"

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Phallic Phriday holds Mammary Monday hostage.

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"Und now you vill stop eating my couch, ja?"

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I've saved the best for last!

Okay, folks. I don't even know where to begin on this one. Snark away, my minions!

Flaming Flamingos, Batman!

Please tell me this cover doesn't feature a bunch of Aryan men in jeans standing around a fountain shooting a highly suspicious white substance in the air...Oh, shit, you can't do that, can you? I'm all for gay erotica, but this picture is a little too much Socialist realism and a little too little Tom of Finland, if you get my drift.

In Another Part of the Forest