Rattle Your Peach Basket: The 50 Worst Album Covers of All Time

Here we are, friends. The second and last installment that you've all been waiting for: Numbers 25 - 1.

#25

This one goes out to JT.

#24

Jonah's manager, a marketing wunderkind in his day, knew they'd have a hit on their hands if they could somehow combine cone bras and construction. This debut fared much better than both its follow-ups, "I backfill floozies" and the more honest "I pay for sex."

#23

This record sold surprisingly well, mostly because people thought it was a comedy album. It contains, in fact, 128 funeral dirges.

#22

Nice of these gals to prop themselves up like that, so's not to get in the way of the road. It's the only way in or out of Dreamtown!

#21

Nobody wants this story, Slim. No-body.

#20

Roger doesn't remember it, but this photo shoot took place in just 28 seconds, using only his "got any crack?" face.

#19

With...who?

#18

I can answer that one for ya, Fos: it's "estra." Kudos to the photographer, though, for getting this pre-trampling shot.

#17

New accent? How bout a new sharpie? Seriously, you spent less money on this font work than Foster Edwards (although you did fit all the words in). You could have had wigged elephants, Man!

#16

You're welcome, Mikey. You're welcome.

#15

My vote for #1. Hands down. Too soon?

#14

Sorry, I've seen Skid Row Joe. He does NOT look like that. And he can't sign his name. On account of he's dead.

#13

Hey, fuck you. I like this cover. It has rainbow-punching, a sportscaster, and a monster guy. What more do you want, you pricks? Next you'll be telling me Sesame Street Disco is bad.

#12

You want to know where Kankakee, Illinois is? It's right here, my friend. It's all right here.

#11

Proof that not every Sears portrait should be an album cover. Dad sure looks happy to be here, though.

#10

I don't know, Cody. You still haven't returned the last one you borrowed. Remember, when you came by last week for a cup of retarded?

#9

Ah, who could forget the Scottish Liberace? Certainly not the poor souls it ate.

#8

Nothing about this could really be described as "live."

#7

This is fucking gangster, bitches. You see that crack in his hand? Roger would KILL for some o' that shit.

#6

Organ does not, in this case, refer to the musical instrument.

#5

Dammit! I already blew my organ joke.

#4

This is the kind of happiness that Merrill seeks. The blood red kind.

#3

Before Rush Limbaugh was king of the airwaves, he was king of all the taverns. And of the retarded laugh. And of being a fat sweaty pig. Jesus.

#2

Ron experimented with many methods for navigating his home-built "go-buggy-dune-kart" before finally settling on the simplest: an anthropomorphic female robot with an opening in the back of its head. This created a "look ma, no hands" effect, while the actual steering was done by Ron's penis. What Ron did NOT account for was that his "boner-pilot" system required an erection from the driver, which Ron was unable to maintain. The whole thing ended very badly shortly after this photo was taken.

And finally...

#1