Sunday, 20 April 2014

Bad cover art - Take 7

Shit pops up to say hello before it gets flushed back down below.
Battle born and embarrassingly drawn.
Personally, I'd prefer to wipe my ass with some real toilet paper.
(Yummy yummy, I'm hungry for bitch to enter my tummy).
Hang on love, let's chat shit before you commit murderous rage.

Well I'd like to but I'm a bit pushed, yer' know how it is.  I hope you won't take it personally.
I vent furious anger towards his demented physique and disassociate an explosion of fake tan as a turgid excuse.  The setting of an island paradise couldn't be more inappropriate.
Think you've had a really bad day in the kitchen?
Well think again as in comparison, such turmoil is luxurious.
For the white and yoke, this is surely some kind of sick fucking joke.
Hand over that AK-47 as one such as this with a bayonet is bound to go for an absolute mint at Gary's Guns.
Falling meteorites = the end of the world.
Excellent.
This is priceless.
A fat incontinent fuck taking a dreamy dump accommodates a despicable occupation that only a true asshole would happily embrace.
His cap states job's worth.  At least they got something right.
The big breasted beauty looks a tad overwhelmed by a horrible situation suited to an orgy of unspeakable debauchery.
The Deepest Game Ever...
Ha ha ha.  You have to give them that one.
Der der der, knife's gonna get yer, knife's gonna get yer.
I wonder who or indeed what designed this wonderful portrayal of horrific insanity.
I'm sure a pig possessing a snake like tongue is one of the greatest movie monsters ever conceived.  How marvellous.
Before his wings are popped, I'd like to buy that dragon a drink, (providing I can piss in it first).
Set. Hut Hut Hut or more appropriately, Fuck Fuck Fuck (this shit right up the ass).
As I impatiently wipe the sweat from my bored brow, agony is dismantled via diesel flavoured gin.
The nightmare of military combat brings on extreme constipation or absolute exhaustion.
On this occasion, you can't help but laugh at the misfortune of others.
It's one thing to lampoon the Prince of Darkness but it's another to completely disrespect.
Why in the holy mother of fuck would Captain Fangtastic be wearing a pair of shades?
If that wasn't bad enough, howling whores needlessly shame a situation that can't sink any lower.  Shit, it already has.
I know what you're thinking.  "Did he fire ten shots or only two?"  Well, to tell a lie I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, and I've kinda lost wood myself.  But being this is a piss poor pistol, the lamest excuse in the world, and would only cause a minor graze to your head, you've got to ask yourself one flinch: "Do I feel generous? Well, do ya, fucker?"
Absolutely old boy.  In fact, when the chamber clicks; I'm going to take that worthless piece of metal and shove it right up your crack pipe.  So I'll enjoy asking you one question: "Do you feel lucky?  Well, do ya skunk?"
He is subsequently gunned down and back at the nick to commemorate his passing, colleagues threw a party to shame Project X (2012).
My name is Arena, I live till I cry.  But that's not my problem, so come and see why.  Hate me.  You can't help but hate me.  So come on see Arena and I can drain your life away.
Will his grip on reality slip?  We can only hope.
The LJN logo dominating proceedings just about sews this collateral damage up.
Well eat a pie and shit a needle into my little eye.
I like my cover art shaken, not stirred but this is taking the proverbial piss flaps.
I don't think this tit would expect a squeeze, even if its life depended on it.
OOF!  Take that you horny bastard and while you're at it, give my regards to T. Rex asshole.
This zombie is in my head, it's giving me nightmares and no amount of hangover fuel is likely to remedy or help forget such a hideous malfunction of protracted paralysis.
Anything deserves a chance but not when it's limper than a nervous dick disappointing a prom queen.
Who ate all the seals?  Who ate all the seals?
You fat bastard, you fat bastard.  You ate all the seals.
There's little to like but much to hate.  How about her on the left? (Head shake)  The right? (Yuck)  Oh come on, surely her in the middle could polish your truncheon?  Okay, point taken.
I present Ant and Dec - up close and personal.
Fuck a doodle do.
58 seconds equates to how long it took for this awful piece of work to be shat into existence.
Ever heard of lazy beams?  Of course you haven't, I've just invented them.
I thank thee for such inspiration.
This is so sickly sweet, it contaminates a pint of pure orange filth.
Wrestling is theatrical nonsense, yet adored by millions.
The same sentiment can't be extended to this representation of cardboard torment. 
The clumsiness that congregates the slums better watch the fuck out because there's a new vicious street vigilante in town, codename Elvis.
I simply cannot contain my excitement as when the next pitch takes place, it's my turn to bat...
I would ask our man to construct a meaningful hypothesis but I simply don't have the heart, as this poor bastard is probably one step away from suicide.

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