Grabbing the Book By the Cover: The Craptacular World of Bad Cover Art

There are several websites out there devoted to "critiquing" book cover art in a funny way. My favorite by far is written by the Smart Bitches over at Smart Bitches Who Love Trashy Books. In their "Cover Snark" series of posts, the ladies raucously dissect the truly awful covers of select romance novels. Their observations are downright hilarious -- and I don't mean in a "haha funny" kind of way. I mean in a tears-running-down-your-cheeks, spit-your-sodee-
pop-across-the-room, poo-a-little-in-your-dungarees kind of way.

Inspired by this, I decided to seek out some "gay novels" and examine their cover art. Incidentally, I throw my nonexistent man-titties to the wind and run like hell from any book that bills itself as a "gay novel"...but some of the covers I stumbled upon were just too rife with possibility to ignore. I could create an entirely separate blog devoted to tearing these big gay book covers new assholes. Which, when you think about it, would come in handy for the heroes.

And who the hell comes up with these things? I mean, really, this has me dumbfounded. Obviously these covers were created by graduates of the Draw the Turtle & Go to Art School Academy.




Standing Guy: "Jeebus Christ, can't a man walk down the street in his granny-panties without encountering a naked weeping homo?"

Crying Guy: "I'm sorry. I've just come from the doctor, and I found out there is a family of illegal immigrants living in my hunchback."

Standing Guy: "Oh man, that sucks. Now will you kindly stop punching my fucking leg?"




I could go on for ages about this one. Let's break it down:

• OK, so dude in the back is kinda hot. But why is he messing with a red-headed firecrotch who appears to have razor-sharp nipples?
• I'll tell you why. Look at Big Red's MASSIVE JUNK. That is not normal. Either he's had a testicular saline injection, or there's some kind of rodent in those jodhpurs. Presumably, a guinea pig.
• For a book called "Discreet Young Gentlemen", they sure as hell aren't very discreet. In addition to porking in open view of Dracula's castle, there is also some shady voyeur making no attempt to be sneaky by watching from his carriage.
• Speaking of the carriage, why does the horse have five legs?
• Where'd they get that lamp? Crate and Barrel? Pier One? Me likes.

Well...it's good to see Erik Estrada can still get some honest work.

And isn't that the same hairdo worn by Marla Gibbs in the last seasons of "227"?




"Clem, you has one hot ass. However, there seems to be an oddly-shaped tumor protruding from your left hip. Let's git you to Doc Mead before we play Hide the Musket."

Also, notice the strange threesome silhouette in the corner. Actually, that might not be a threesome, since the two forms on the left seem to have two heads sharing the same body. I don't know about you, but I hate it when people spontaneously grow out of my back.

And I can only guess the form on the right of these two is an Old West transsexual with leaking, poorly-sculpted implants. Have we learned nothing from Tara Reid?




Oh shit, this one DEFINITELY has had a testicular saline injection. You know how I can tell? Because it's bleeding! Check out the trail of blood down the middle of that shiny thing he's wearing. Someone clearly couldn't stop himself and now his ballsack has ruptured. Way to go, Cylon!

Since this guy clearly has no brains, I think it's a nice touch that he's decided to have his phone number tattooed across his chest. He also seems to be microchipped in the neck. Good boy. This way you won't stray too far from home and disturb the intelligent people.

Speaking of intelligent, how cool is it that the R2-D2 knock-off in the background has a Dustbuster for a hand??? I love it! Does he do housecalls?




Photographic Evidence #6,032,855,712 in the ongoing case of Why Mullets Are Not Sexy. The blond one is also in desperate need of a creme rinse. Let's just hope the ransom involves Vidal Sassoon is some way.

You know, blondie's hair looks a lot like Barbra Streisand's on the cover of her "Wet" album.

WAIT! Hold it just a goshdarned minute! This confirms my suspicions that Barbra is really a gay man. Babs, is that you? Barbra can you hear me?




WTF?

Honestly, WTF is this? The longer I stare at it, the more options I can see.

Ohhh, I get it. It's one of those Magic Eye pictures.




Is that Jude Law in the white banana hammock? If so, I need to run out and buy this book STAT.

And who's the pathetic fag hag kneeling in the ruins like she's about to blow one of these guys? Honey, you're barking up the wrong column. I dig your Marlo Thomas/"That Girl" hair, though.




Don't you wish we could all do this? Fly through the air by emitting copious amounts of jizz from our hands and feet? It must also be handy to be able to store books in your hair. Some guys have all the luck.




Finally! A horsehung hero NOT into body modification. Hot standing dude is sure proud of that anaconda he's managed to squeeze into his riding pants, but then again, who wouldn't be? And just look at the pure awe in the eyes of the little twinkie catcher kneeling before him. He reminds me of one of the urchins in "Oliver": "Please, Sir, may I have some more?".

These two lovebirds better be careful, though. Clearly, that vase is going to come smashing down on Twinkie's head any moment now. The table holding the roses is on its last legs, evidenced by the dangerous angle to which it is leaning. Also, I would imagine it would be really uncomfortable to have rollicking romance-novel-sex with an oval portrait of Barbara Bush staring down at you. But maybe that's just me.