What is more frightfully disturbing?
With Halloween almost upon us, I thought I'd feature some ultra creeptastic cover illustrations. The symbolism here is not at all subtle - everyone knows that white lilies symbolize the departure of the soul. Behind the blooms of death a trio of clairol-loving vampires, one of whom is in need of a fast-acting antacid, have just initiated an unsuspecting sister in their undead ways. Their leader Spike, who has the commanding presence to pull off a lavender manbag, is unaware of the zombie in the distance. But wait, that's no zombie! He isn't hungry for brains, he's hungry for.......!
He's like, "Yer face...it needs mai kisses." And she's like, "Ok, now ure startin to bore me." Even the billboard artist found this yawnfest too tiresome to complete. Seriously, have you ever seen such a perfect depiction of ennui?
Hoooo-boy! Git ready for some toe-tapping twang from Anne-Marie's latest album. I love her cowgirl fashion but what's with the font on her life-sized poster? That's the kind of lettering you would see in the Shire. The diner-style title font is also incongruous with the country western theme. Fonts aside, I am very much digging the denim stylings of the boy with the exquisitely tweezed brows and cuffed Wranglers. You just know he's prepared for anything. I'm assuming his friend Red, there, is a transplant from the city. That would explain the corporate product placement. Doesn't he know real men wear boots?
Psst! Up here - it's me, Fever, hiding in a square void in the forest. Don't ask me how I got here, the important thing is that I'm finally free of those two. I couldn't take it anymore - their endless dabbling with hair products, eyebrow tweezers, exfoliating loofahs and moisturizing masks. They've been like that all their lives! But not with me, no sirree, I'm putting my paw down! They can find another dog to humiliate. I just want to roll in the mud, chase squirrels and eat food out of the trash. I'm not gonna let some nancy-boys paint my nails and try to give me a home perm. They can look for me all they want...I won't be found!
No ifs about it, winter will come - nuclear winter, that is. Let me explain. At first I thought this was the story of a moon launch or some such benign event, but it's about two teens and the rest of the planet facing possible NUCLEAR ANNIHILATION! Good times! An example of the cheery prose found within:
Did you know that slaying the dragon is a euphemism for choking the chicken, which is a euphemism for spanking the monkey, which is a euphemism for flailing the whale, which is a ...oh, you know! But alas, there are no dragons being slayed in this tableau. With his skimpy shorts and come hither pose, perhaps our young hero is waiting for his very own St. George to slay his dragon. No, not that George, this one!
Do you see it? There in the yellow flower? Egads - a tiny dragon! Pretty trippy stuff coming from the queen of foxiness. I'd lay off the Boone's Farm if I were her. But getting back to the cover, I think the illustrator has the uncanny ability to predict what a certain Hollywood celeb is gonna look like in the year 2038 or thereabouts. Renee, honey - your face is gonna freeze like that!
"Hi there, gorgeous. The name's Sheila. Ms. Hayes if you're nasty. You may be wondering why such a foxy lady, with bedroom eyes and a 36-inch Jordache rise, is hanging out in this blog. Well, I am a YA author, duh! We'll get to my book later. Right now I've got a date with his royal studliness. We'll be taking our sexy poses down to the local wine and cheese joint where we'll feed each other hot, gooey morsels of deliciousness from the fondue crock and get blitzed on a jug of Boone's Farm strawberry wine. Ahhhh, heaven!"
