Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

Sarah: Wow. She’s almost logically proportioned (though what’s with the papoose looking thing on the right?) but poor DeSalvo. Not only does he have Ridiculous Hair, but his chest is 400% wider than the rest of him, and his leg is coming out of his… wait a minute. Is he a hero with no legs sitting on some dude’s lap?!

Candy: A man with a chest as wide as the Texas sky and a torso as short as Rhode Island. Hot!

Sarah: Of course they are still married. Could you ever leave that mullet alone? It’s all stringy and greasy - rwor!

Candy: Matching mullets, matching mom jeans—that’s how you know it’s true love, baby.

And from Danielle F comes this homage to yet another 80’s fad:

Sarah: When a man you’ve never met before suddenly tries to slurp your bleached blonde brains, it’s probably time you reconsidered your habit of getting shitfaced wearing a Flashdance-esque tiger-print nightie.

Candy: She thinks he wants to nibble on her ear, but little does she know that he’s that rarest of paranormal creatures: the Cheerful Zombie. Your tiger print will avail you nothing, now.

From Jane and Robin we have:

Sarah: I’d like to thank this cover for highlighted the importance of a breast self-exam, particularly at the opportune moment when one is stark naked and betwixt two stay-puft marshmallow men.

Candy: I have never seen a woman look so superfluous in a menage cover, ever. Look at them! The guys are all “Ew! Boobs! Man-nape on, the other hand…NOM NOM NOM.” And the chick’s all “But…but? Boobs? I has them. OK, how ‘bout I make an O-face? will that make it better? Guys? ...guys?”

From Karen S we have:

Sarah:: Say it with me now: “When the burning, itching, and soreness of hemorrhoids flare up….” Fiachra’s Kiss will turn your ass into a flaming, burning world of hurt.

Candy: Man, how much does it suck to have your book confused for a Terrance and Phillip movie?

And from Erastes, we have:

Sarah: I opened this file and literally said out loud, “Oh, God. No.”  The poor butterfly. A perfectly acceptable image tossed into slimy pit of bad Photoshop hair, bad Photoshop skin, bad Photoshop horns, a miserable excuse for a Photoshop tail, and on top of all that, Bacchus’s badly Photoshopped son is humping a tree. That poor butterfly. Every one of its 12,000 ommatidia must be screaming.

Candy: You know what I think when I see that sassy little tail? I think of a poor, misguided chipmunk spelunkin’ for nuts. Except they’re not quite the nuts he wants or needs.