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

Sarah: It’s a whole new version of the Hokey Pokey - instead of putting your own arm or leg in, you rip the required appendage off some nubile chicklet, and THEN you do the pokey. Just wait until they get to the “You put your whole self in!” part. That ought to be messy.

Candy: Well, I guess they don’t really need nipples if they’re androids...but why have reproductive organs, period, if you’re androids? Huh.

And a question: Do androids get electronic herpes? And if they do, do the lesions manifest as little blinky pop-up ads on the cyborgs’ fiddly bits that won’t go away until you CLIK TO CLAIM UR FREE IPOD TODAY?

Sarah: This cover is giving me a “deep pressure” behind my right eyeball. And I bet she’s about to get some equally deep pressure in her ass, as preparation for “Trigon Rituals III: Ass Migraine.”

Candy: Does the Deep Pressure refer to the crappy airbrush job they did with her hair? I mean, seriously--they weren’t even trying.

Sarah: If pouring nuclear beer on your ta-tas is “crazy,” what qualifies as “completely bugfuck insane?” Pouring nuclear beer on your ta-tas during buttsecks?

Oh. Nevermind.

Candy: Sarah, that ain’t nuclear beer. Notice the lack of nipples? Those are MORE CYBORGS, baby. That’s hydraulic oil she’s pouring all over herself, and he’s busy testing her COM ports if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Sarah: My shit brown granny panties. Let me show you them.

Candy: Holy fucking shit. I didn’t know Prince had died, much less had his corpse exhumed, shit on, desecrated with a chest wig and then posed for a romance novel cover.