Monday Morning Mock Draft: What The Hell Was That?

Guten tag, drones.

We’re drawing closer to shutting down the mock drafts for the season, making way for Hippo Thoughts as Most Glorious football returns to provide us with the bread and circus we so desperately need to keep us from noticing, (waves vaguely at everything), THAT.  I believe that, with this one, we’re down to the final four, but unlike the NCAA final four, this one features little talent, less financial gain, but about the same adherence to the rules.

I was going to do some more pandering with this one, but have made the executive decision…

No, Cheryl, or Carol, or whatever, but I am my own, so unlike the rules around here that you’re all about to violate like they were an ASU co-ed on a Spring Break cruise.  Of course…

So getting back to the executive decision I made, (checks word count) (shit), the pandering has been put off, to perhaps the final draft of the off-season, so that we can out with a bang.  This we week we will instead draft Album Covers.

But not good ones.

Nope, this week I want you to go out and find terrible, or at least weird, album covers.  The only rules I’ll throw out there is that it has to be a real album.  If it’s weird to you that’s good enough.  I’ll discourage coverss that were supposed to be terrible and/or weird, but that’s often not possible to determine, (although if Weird Al, bless his heart did it, he probably meant it to be weird), so just try your best.

Welp, that’s the word count, so without further ado I present the album I somehow stumbled on that put this idea in my head.

This little, I’m sure, gem, is a 1978 effort by a UNLV physics professor named Gary Solomon.  Someday I will find this in a remainder bin and I will buy it.  It’s described, (by AI, so take that for what it’s worth), as 10 tracks of lunge music.  That’s bad enough, but look at that cover:  the jeans, the awkward, possibly spine-damaging pose, the odd positioning of a guy, (presumably Gary), emerging from a phone booth outside of what is possibly a truck stop, (which raises its own set of horrible, horrible questions), and you’ve got yourself a mess of a an album cover.

The rest of you are on the clock!