Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Toads, Warts, Yuck.

I'm gonna assume that the kid on the couch is Wart and that the nattily dressed dude pointing and waving his glasses around (who's staring directly at me - please stop that!) is Toad. I don't want to know any more. I'm not interested in their gross names...their sartorial choices...their choice of beverage...the precarious perspective of the coffee table where said beverage is about to slide onto my lap. I'd rather contemplate the perfectly feathered hair of Wart's girlfriend/sister (?)

2 comments:

Carolyn said...

This cover reminds me of when my mother made me study with the Jehovah's Witnesses. I have to go with the first thing that pops into my head, see? Toad kinda reminds me of James Brolin. Kinda.

Pauline said...

I just want to know who would call their book Wart, Son of Toad. They obviously did not want to sell ANY of them. How repulsive. Did Toad want to punish his son by calling him WART? Which name would you prefer to be known as? And what has the chick got to do with it? Is it his sister or is it a girlfriend and Toad is laying down the law before he scoots out on the town? Odd. I am going to look for this book in the shops, as it would make for a pleasant edition to my bookshelf (and I want to see people's reaction to me reading it on the tram! HA!)