I’m not just randomly writing a post about Fabio book covers, guys. His birthday was yesterday, so it makes sense. I haven’t spent hours combing through my exhaustive Fabio cover collection, painstakingly arranged into sub-folders like “Blonde Man Nips” and “Sex on a Rug—Stains.” I also haven’t spent the last month listening to my copy of Fabio’s 1994 slow jams album. Noooope.
Is this Game of Thrones?
Dick massage: The hot new technique every chiropractor is raving about.
Chainmail + nipples. What could go wrong?
This cover is trying to say something, but what?
Ain’t nothing more sexy than nude-colored tights (or else Fabio has some real weird knee wrinkle action going on) and Uggs.
I respect a man who will attempt lilac tights. Wait. No. The other thing. “Am violently repelled by.”
His hair’s blowing straight up. Do aliens want to take humanity’s supreme specimen of masculinity from us? Killer scrunchie on that lady, though.
Fabio stars in: Ghost Peen.
“Can you tell I had garlic knots at dinner?” “…Yeah, a little.”
The new Aquaman movie looks weird.
Fabio really loves his lady… his Epilady.
Thank for the deep v-neck trend, Fabs.
Edgar Rice Burroughs didn’t really own his place in history until he got a series of Fabio covers.
“Fuck you, Frenchie!”
“I’m wearing an asymmetrical man thong [NSFW], and you can’t even tell.”