Author: Otto S. Fishbein

The Mickey Mouse badge told the Ayatollah at his feet, “You drink your oil you schmuck, we’ll eat our heads of wheat.” But I’m the man in grey, we’re Sunday Comics at the Star and we don’t have a say in the war games that they play.

You gentlemen who think you have a mission to purge us of the Sunday Comics should first sort out the basic food position. Then start your preaching, that’s where it begins.

You don’t have no money? He’ll get you some. You don’t have no car? He’ll get you one. You don’t have no Sunday Comics, you feel like an insect? Well don’t you worry buddy, ’cause here he comes.

She’ reads the Sunday Comics ev’ry now and then. For every camera, she gives the best she can. I saw her on the cover of a magazine; now she’s a big success, I want to meet her again

All my friends tell me something is getting together…I got a beard that would disappear if I’m dressed in leather. Now let me tell you about my baby, she would read the Sunday Comics sitting in the jail house trying to learn some good manners!

Here’s Rawhead and Bloodybones, reading Sunday Comics, crouching under stair, lurking in chimney, pond or well.

“Oh, where are the Sunday Comics?” “What would you want with the Comics? Can’t you see that I’m much sweet-ah? I’m your little señorit-er! You’re my type of guy, let me straighten your tie, and I shall dance for you.”

Just the other day I got a starter kit. Caught the face from the Sunday Comics from the mindstate, I play control to a fraud. Nah, it ain’t happenin — nada to make it even.

Number fifty-four, the house with the bamboo door…A bamboo roof and bamboo walls, they’ve even got a bamboo floor. I’m-a telling you, when you’re blue — well, there’s a lot to do. Read the Sunday Comics!