Alert reader Heather forwarded me the following cover, and said that the minute she saw it, she thought of us.
Isn’t that kind of her? Thank you, Heather! Now, everyone can say thanks to Heather because holy mother of all that is ponderous, does that image ever cry out for another round of Caption That Cover. As Heather said, “What is it with covers of guys backs with them looking down? Looks like he’s looking at his crotch. Is he getting ready to unzip and take a wiz? Honestly, that’s what it looks like. This is one time when cropping the head and just having a view of a nice back would have worked much better.”
She has a point. I showed it to Hubby and said, “What’s he doing?” The answer: “Peeing.”
So, folks, it’s time to Caption That Cover and answer that burning question: What’s going on there? What’s he thinking? What’s he… doing? Best caption as picked by me will win a $25 gift card to the bookstore of the winner’s choice – but you are, as always, welcome to pimp your favorites and tell me which one you think I should pick.
Standard disclaimers apply: I’m not being compensated for this giveaway. Void where prohibited. If you’re experiencing painful or frequent urination, please see your doctor.
Have at it – comments close in 24 hours! Caption that Man!
He knows she will look past the mantitty so he must, too.
—Come on, Grendel, breathe some fire for daddy!
—Piers was flummoxed. If the thing about being stuck in a Staples, getting chased around by rabid toner cartriges was just a dream, where the fuck did that easy button come from?
In full concentration mode. Eyes on the prize.
(Flex) I must … (Flex) I must …. (Flex) I must increase my … (Flex) bust.
Peeing: By Calvin Klein
or
Adventures of Swirly Fog Man! Will he be able to make his way through the swirly fog?
or
Are there swirls on my ass? There had better not be those damn swirls on my ass! Maybe if I stand real still and flex my back muscles they’ll go away.
“…I had it when I left this morning….”
“Damn, stepped in another fresh turd, and I just cleaned these shoes!”
“Stupid mist! Stepped on another nettle bush!”
“These pants are much less convenient than my kilt. If only I could easily pee without undoing this rope belt! Someone should invent a special clasp on the front that could be sealed and unsealed quickly!”
Dirk didn’t touch his nethers when urinating, after all he knew where his penis had been…
How the snakes were really driven from Ireland!
“Come, my mystick divining rod. Point me toward the legendary Magic Hoo-ha. Awaken! Show me the way.”
He was the master of all he surveyed and marked his territory accordingly,like a many a lone wolf before him.
(This may only be funny to me and my husband but…)
“It defied all logic, but he could have sworn he heard the melodious strains of the song ‘Please release me, let me go’ by Engelbert Humperdinck from …down … there?”
I am mildly disturbed by my spam word: child36
“Damn, lost another contact!”
Morphidae ftw, but Deadline Hell’s trip to Staples made me lol.
The shame of his swirled ass was so intense, he turned his back on his life…until he met the woman with zig-zags on her chest.
OMG!! WTF???? What did the Mist Witch do with my junk?!
Kudos to Ann Somerville, even if her first reference was Scottish, not Irish.
The swirls have me worried, but clearly there’s a medical reason for them.
“Hey, my lower back is getting…longer. What about….drats, always hoped that being Elongated Man would help there…”
Morphidae’s and the second of Deadline Hell’s both made me giggle out loud.
I cannot top those.
On his sojourn into Ireland, while stopping to heed the call of nature, Malcolm MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod looked down and learned to his shock that after that encounter with the witch of the moor, his clan’s famous motto no longer applied.
“I can scratch my ass AND write my name in the sand at the same time!”
“Why, hello there, m’lad. ‘Tis good to see that m’willie t’aint got the willies.”
“Does it look bigger from this angle?”
“It wasn’t a good idea to tatoo her name in there….ouch”
They said that size didn’t matter – that anything would do. Well, now’s my chance to prove it.
Except – I can’t get this damn knot untied. Help! For the love of … something or other … won’t someone please help me?!
I nearly fell off my chair laughing!
“…and they said it doesn’t point north.”
“Wow! It really DOES shink in the cold!”
“Wait a minute! Aren’t there supposed to be two Ls in Phillip?”
Who’s a good boy? Yes, you’s my good boy!
She promised him supernatural enhancement, but didn’t mention what would be enhanced.
Who needs an English pointer when you have me lassie?
Patrick stared at his junk, aghast. Da’ had warned him not to screw leprechauns, but he hadn’t mentioned it would turn his dick green!
He longed to relieve himself of his haunting desire, but could he figure out how to get his rope belt knotted again?
Realizing that he has nothing but his rope belt and pants, the princess in the castle is just gonna have to wait another day. Our hero tries to tuck his swirls back in to start the long trek home.
It looks more like a look of defeat than anything to me… who wants that in a hero???
Ah damn, I peed on my shoes again.
“Haunted by a burgeoning problem,
He would find solace in her healing touch.”
I think that’s a fairly egregious caption for first thing Monday morning.
learned98: Too early in the week to have learned 98 things yet.
Hey, he’s not peeing. I’ll tell you that. If he was peeing, at least one hand would be in front with him.
—Little known guy fact—
Any sane guy keeps a hand on his junk for control when he’s peeing outdoors. You just don’t want the dangleys behaving as they will. That’s how you end up with your shoes a little wet. A hand for control helps keep the stream away from you.
—Fact ended—
That said, I think he’d shed his shirt, and was about to turn around to begin to make sweet love to the heroine, having spent alllllll his time and effort getting to the point by the Powah of his Tru Luv for her.
Then he’d realized his Brazilian wax hadn’t gotten everything. In fact, it’s sort of scraggly. He really must have a word with Shawn. That stylist simply MUST pay more attention, even if the gossip about Tom was absolutely SALACIOUUUUSSSS.
“Rope underwear….bad idea….ch-chafing….ow.”
“Must remember to unzip first, pee second.”
“Get away, you dirty little leprechaun!”
Ass Hypnosis, you are getting very horny….
Like blowing a really good smoke ring, crop-circle farts take a bit of concentration.
“Why must my farts always break the sound barrier?” hangs head in shame.
More importantly, just WHAT was the guy that modeled for the cover doing?!
The miracle of Life