Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Embarrassingly Bad Album Covers – Secular Music Edition

I did a post similar to this on my original blog several months ago, but that was an all-Christian-music edition. This is its counterpart, albeit a bit time-delayed. I hope you'll get as much of a kick out of these as you did the other ones – if you don't remember them, click here to refresh your memory. Enjoy!  ~  JH

It's a bird...it's a plane...it's another disillusioned dude
who thinks he looks and sounds likes Elvis. "Reborn", no less.

Stop staring at me like that, manwoman. 
You're making me very uncomfortable!

Will the real dummy please stand up?

That is, hands-down, the ugliest dummy I've ever seen.
The one on the left in the red pants is pretty hideous, too.

I've seen "E.T." That's not what he looks like. Not
even close. That guy'd have given Elliott a heart attack.

What exactly prompted this guy to call himself "Little"? Not 
trying to be rude, just curious. Okay, I AM trying to be rude.

This one kind of speaks for itself, doesn't it?

Well, they're spectacularly large, that's for sure. Other than
that, they're not so impressive. I give 'em a B minus.

Lady, you're on the wrong side of 40 and dressed like a
babydoll. And your accessory dogs are equally ridiculous.
It's time to cash that check. The reality check, that is.

There's something Henki going on here...

This is taking the whole "glam rock" phenomenon 
in an entirely wrong direction. No...just, no.

Don't look now, kindly oldster, but there's an angry Smurf
peering over your shoulder. And apparently, Papa Smurf approves!

Hangin' with my homegirls. Kickin' it. Just a typical Tuesday.

I called Eric Van Camp to ask him about this album cover. 
A strangely familiar-sounding voice replied, "He is not here."

Somebody spent too much time in the costume department.
Or too little time, perhaps, in her case.

You can have a feelin', Cody. I don't want it back afterwards.

"The White Knight Of Soul"? 
More like the "Baron Of Bouffants."

Dip 'em in yellow snow and you'll have the perfect snack.

Cheerio, old chap! Fancy a cheeseburger? No???

For some guys, this is the ideal woman. 
Barefoot, scantily clad, and toting her own fish.

Why, yes, they are!

I don't know if she's trying to seduce me, psychoanalyze 
me, or just creep me out. If it's the latter, it's working.

Mozart and belly dancing. It's like peanut butter and jelly.

No one sings sad songs like Sam Sacks. Sing it again, Sam!

Did she shave her legs for this? No, she didn't. 
And not for quite some time, apparently.

When you're ready, come and get it. (Ick!)

My eyes, Tubby Boots, my eyes! I'm not sure anyone
is "mature-minded" enough to be able to handle this!

Lunch lady by day, party dance fiend by night! You go, Mrs. Mills!

Ah, the Singing Midget. This should be a short album...

Mr. Banjo would like you to come over and sit on his knee
while he plays "Dueling Banjos." Please RSVP ASAP!

He's here! Ok...seriously...can he leave now?

"Zip...Zap...Rap." I think that about sums it up.

This is just weird on so many levels.


As if a topless Tubby Boots wasn't sufficient to turn your stomach...

Oh my, it just gets worse and worse...and worse!

Cancer Cancer Cancer

This just goes to prove that even the great ones have their off days.

Well, what else were they going to do with that
truckload of sour cream they ordered?

This is the stuff of nightmares. You're welcome.

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