Candy: What a delightful cross between grubby-ass hippie and gym freak. Enjoy looking at the chronic assne from all the steroid abuse while inhaling the delightful scent of patchouli! He’ll help you set up tent at Burning Man, then when you pass out from eating one too many magic brownies, he’ll hump you while you sleep.
Leisure Books uses some of the creepiest-looking models. All of them seem to exude some slick sheen of grossness, or at the very least look like they could really, really, really use a shower, but this guy is pretty ucky even for them. I pity the poor flower being fondled by the guy. I’d wilt on the spot from mortification.
Sarah: When Candy first showed me this cover, I’d never seen it before, and the greatest sum reaction I could come up with was to stare at the monitor with my mouth open, similar to the expression I wear when I have consumed an entire 40 oz. of St. Ides by myself.
Wait, did I say that out loud?
Perhaps this dude consumed the entire 40 by himself, because, dude, he looks stupid. From the visible indent where he appears to be punching himself in the kidney with some degree of force, to the bizarre proportions that render his chest entirely much too short- does he have some sort of bone disorder? – this dude is a piece of work. And certainly not what I would envision as a romantic hero.
And finally, what is UP with that phallic leaf at the bottom there, curving up and away from his groin? Is his throbbing, pulsing, shivering arousal, his fleshy sword, his love staff, his steely pole, his Spear of Love (TM Candy) – is it…green? Because he needs to have that looked at, pronto.
