At this point, any pictures of Madge are no longer eligible for a Photoshop Award, because the skin on her face is Photoshopped in real life since its pores have been filled with wax and it gets its manufactured youthful glow from daily injections of rare fetus sperm. So even though nothing on this vowel-hating album cover was made from nature, it doesn’t count!
Before my dad became allergic to mailing child support checks and dropped off the face of my life, I used to stay at his apartment in West Coveeeeeena once or twice a month. In the bathroom next to the couch I slept on, he had this 70s glass shower door that looked like that cover above. It was beveled and shit. It was kind of a horror show, because I could barely make out what was on the other side. So if Psycho took place in my dad’s apartment (if you met my stepmother at the time, you’d agree that it very well could have) and the killer had an Express Yourself-era Madonna face, this cover is what you’d see right before she opened the door and thrust her memaw crotch sending your soul scurrying down the drain.
Even though this cover looks like a flyer for an after-hours club that someone taped over one of the urinals in the bathroom of a gay bar, I don’t hate it. If it was a flyer, I’d even use it to floss the pubes out of my teefs.