It's What's On The Outside That Counts

Don't judge a book by its cover, right? Wrong! I judge books by their covers ALL the time. If a book has a shirtless guy on the front, I'll shy away from it—sorry, romance authors. If a book is titled Ten Secrets About Women Told By My Vagina, I'll definitely pick it up, take it to a dark corner of the bookstore, snap a picture of the cover with my phone so I can share it with everyone on Twitter, and maybe even read a chapter. . .but I'll never buy it. 

The cover art and the title are important! 

I've compiled a list of twenty-four books to prove my point—I've even placed them in categories for you. I hope you enjoy!

The first category is Sexual Innuendos. I understand we live in a time when pretty much any word can be twisted to mean something perverted, but a couple of these authors (or publishers) should've known better.

Dick and discharge should NEVER be used in the same sentence...
unless speaking to a healthcare professional.

Unfortunately, this book is about quilting, not a 60-year-old
stripper named Eleanor Burns.

Yeah, I'm not gonna go there.

I have an image in my mind, right now, of a pocket book
bursting with disembodied penises. 

This book could actually be about Nell scoring.
She looks pretty provocative lounging in that tree.

Now that we've addressed boners and stripping, let's move on to the Poop And Fart category–it's only going to get worse, people.

Does a person really want to read a book about how to light a fart?
I have an older brother, so I can tell you how in one sentence.
Grab a lighter, lie down on your back, put your legs in the air,
place the lighter against your butt, and fart—do this with pants ON. 

This book is about how they disposed of poop in the Middle Ages. Apparently, a topic that's so complex it takes over a hundred pages to explain.

I'm envisioning the toilet on the cover talking—
like the lid opening and closing as it speaks.
 Is that weird? 

What's in that cookie dough anyway?

Through my intense, intellectually stimulating research, I discovered that a lot of books have the word lesbian in their title, which brings me to the next category: Gay Books.

I'm not just saying this, but I think Mona looks better with short hair. And I swear she's K.D. Lang's great great great great grandmother.

I had a lesbian gym teacher named Ms. Rice. 
She didn't school me in desire, though. 
But she did teach me the correct form for a push up.

At first, I thought maybe this was a book about boys who smoke,
since fag used to be slang for cigarettes, but no one's smoking on the cover. So I googled it. A fag is a British, public school student who performs menial tasks for higher class students. I hope I taught at least one of you something new.

Wait. Is "Fred Haley" Michele Bachmann's husband's pen name?

Who wants to read some erotic fiction? How about Erotic Sci-Fi? Bow chicka wow wow...

I don't think that's a loin cloth he's wearing; 
it's a tiny alien hugging his waist—look, it has eyes. 
And are those her nipples or laser guns?

Okay, you sci-fi people are freaks! 

Enough of that creepy nonsense. How about we move on to Religion—I don't want to hear any complaining from you atheists!

I think Tom Cruise is Star Wars Jesus but don't quote me on that.

She's intimidating me with her glare. Ms. Strong-Anderson,
I promise to NEVER use birth control, if you promise to STOP looking at me!

Ms. Strong-Anderson would definitely object to this next book in the Medical category.

I wonder what Victor T. Cheney sees as an advantage to Castration. The disadvantages are pretty obvious.

I don't know. It's late, and I'm tired. 
The title is Foreskin's Lament; it's funny.

The pictures on the cover were taken via someone's butt hole.
Enough said.

 I call this next category Books For Douche Bags. You'll understand why when you see the covers.

The white man is explaining to a woman, a Hispanic, an Asian,
and an African American how to be Awesome. 

I don't find this situation in any way erotic.
He's a stewardess AND he has a mustache.

Hey! I saw this guy at Walmart on Black Friday.

The final book doesn't belong in any of the above categories. It's miscellaneous, I suppose. The title isn't funny without the cover.

I think my mom wrote a similar book about her three cats
after she and my dad got divorced.