Think, Think, Think...
With special thanks to our guest snarker, Anna, we present for your consideration: What Are These Cover Models Thinking?
Iron Dove
Robyn:
Shoot. I knew that helicopter would totally mess up my hair.
Missie:
I am pouty. I have attitude. And I despise the little dancing man in the corner.
Anna:
I'm still on the title. Iron Dove. Think about that. How is an iron dove going to get off the ground, anyway? Brings to mind the whole hawk/dove thing, and if this is an adventure, wouldn't it make sense to be more hawk than dove? Plus they have me in someone's crosshairs, but not someone with perfect aim. That guy's not much help, as he's more interested in auditioning for a remake of North by Northwest.
Much Ado About Matchmaking
Robyn:
The men: PLEASE be the matchmaker not the match. Please be the matchmaker not the match.
Missie:
And then my therapist? She said I should get a hobby so I could keep myself occupied and not stalk people anymore, so I chose making ugly headbands. Where are you going?! Come baaaaack!!!
Missie’s husband:
The lights are on, but nobody's home, folks.
Anna:
As soon as these "muscle relaxants" wear off, I am firing this wedding planner who gave them to me. And the makeup artist who also took too many. And giving my three year old niece her flower scrunchie headband back. Now, one question. Am I the bride or the bridesmaid?
Suddenly Mommy
Robyn:
You are getting verrrry sleeeeepy…now go get me a bottle. And a diaper. And follow my instructions to rule the world. Also a teething ring.
Missie:
(rumbling sound effects) Suddenly Smelly.
Anna:
Oh boy, I get to star in Children of the Damned II! Let this be a lesson to all; be alert and always watch your doorstep, lest someone suddenly leave an evil baby with too much eyeliner on your welcome mat. You can tell I am Evil Baby because I have eyeliner on. More than "Mommy" ever will. Because I won't let her. Bwahahah. Even if she gets me out of this basket, she'll never be able to fold all these fitted sheets.
The Pride of Hannah Wade
Robyn:
Her: Take the picture already. These buckskins chafe.
Him: You can’t take your eyes off my Corbin Bernsen chiseled cheekbones, can you?
Horse: I can’t believe they made a toupee for him from my hair.
Missie:
Her: Look at me, I'm all proud. And all Native American-y. Cuz weren't they really pale, too? Do I need more makeup?
Him: If you shut up, I'll let you borrow my bronzer.
Her: This is so cool. I told you we would like totally win the Brangelina Look Alike Contest.
Missie's husband:
Just how long is that horse?
Anna:
Okay, my babysitter got sick, so I have to go home now and only have time to take one photo, so everyone crowd in together, and I'll crop it later. Eighties Beauty Gazzette cover girl, you put on the dress for the Beader's Quarterly cover. Corbin Bernson, into the Civil War Times guy's uniform, and both of you on horse that looks like Howard Cosell. The judge won't let me talk about what that's for.
The Would-Be Widow
Robyn:
Oh, my husband’s back from the war. Let me find a container for my joy.
Missie:
Him: Psst, that painting's eyes are totally following us.
Her: Shut up, Conway Twitty.
Anna:
Heroine: ::sigh:: I can't believe he made it back alive. Didn't I pay for a front-lines assignment? If I can pretend to be fascinated by his detailed recounting of the quartermaster's latest inventory, maybe I can remember where I put the deadly nightshade. One of us is going to need it. (note from Anna -- this heroine bears a startling resemblance to my mother's best friend from the 1970s, who actually was British. I will now be sniffing for Tab and Jean Nate for the rest of the day.)
Next: Covers That Are Just Wrong
posted by Robyn | 6:59 AM
15 Comments:
Oh, oh!
I love this blog.
The Iron Dove - Mine's not iron. It's concrete. It's my doorstop. BTW, why do they want to shoot off her earing?
The Would-Be Widow - Now I know why breasts are sometimes referred to as "a shelf." Where's the bottom half?
Bernita! I almost gave this comment for the last one:
And the next painting up for auction is titled, "Comatose Woman with Chest on Shelf Fending Off Liberace." Who'll start the bidding at $50,000?
I guess I would have that look on my face too if my girls were smashed into an ugly dress then literally put on a pedestal.
Good job, Anna! I was laughing out loud at your comments. My husband said the same thing you did: Iron Dove? Iron Dove? That doesn't make any sense!
ROTFL you guys have done it again..my mom & sister were looking at me soo strangely when I was laughing.
And I despise the little dancing man in the corner.
I lost it. haha.
~Jo
Missie, looks sooo OUCHY, don't it?
More, pleasepleaseplease.
There is no container large enough to contain the joy this post brought me.
Hey Amalah- love the copious cuteness of Noah's pics on your blog.
Missie dancing happily around singing, "Amalah came to our blog, Amalah came to our blog!"
I know. I SQUEEEEEEED for about a minute before trying to type anything!
Good post, girls! Esp the Suddenly Smelly, Missie!
Camy
Aw, Robyn, what's your problem with the matchmaker? She's cute!
Doug, come on. Imagine waking from a sound sleep to those eyes and that grin hovering over you. Are you telling me you wouldn't scream?
Just how long IS that horse, anyway?
Ah, but there's the key.
It's not a horse at all, it's a pushmi-pullyu. It's other head is just cut out of the frame.
ROFL I'm late but thanks for the laughs!
These covers make me uncomfortable.
(especially the headband. What is that thing?!)
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