Sunday Comics
It really doesn’t matter, if I’m wrong I’m right where I belong. I’m right where I belong. See the Sunday Comics there? You’ll disagree and never win, and wonder why you won’t get in my door. I’m painting my room in the colorful way, and when my mind is wandering…There I will go.
Sunday Comics
And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp! And Sunday Comics mine! And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.
Sunday Comics
Cold winds are howling, or could that be growling? Sunday Comics drawn…My-my, oh me-my, kindly will you reply: Is that you, Santa Claus?
Illustrations, Graphic Journalism Create Alternative Narratives and Historical Documents
Nathalie Rosa Bucher explores the graphic journalism of the Middle East.
Sunday Comics
Sunday Comics: One mans waste is another mans soap, sons fan base know the brotha man’s dope. A real weirdo with a bug rare flow and the way his hair grow was ugly as a scarecrow. He wears a mask so the charge won’t grab on a rooftop with a large stone slab. Heads up, talk white and thought *erish — refuse to walk tight and got his off the vigorous’h. Black licorice and equally as yucky, how he handled the money was strictly Dan Stuckie.
Sunday Comics
Everybody needs a change, a chance to check out the new. But you’re the only one to read new Comics that drop Sundays true! Don’t you worry ’bout a thing, cuz we will have all these to read when you check them out.
Sunday Comics
Es el tiburón que duerme Sunday, es el tiburón que lee los Comics/Es el tiburón que va asechando, es el tiburón de mala suerte/¿Tiburón que busca en la orilla? ¡Tiburón, lo tuyo es mar afuera!
Sunday Comics
Those who have seen the needle’s eye now tread like a husk from which all that was — now has fled. And the masks that the monsters wear to feed upon their prey…Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved, the Sunday Comics forever.
Sunday Comics
I like people there, the ones who can’t stand — they’re the ones who can’t stand. I see smoke signals coming from them. They say, “we’re all out of Comics, sir.” Stand on your own head, for a change; give me some skin to call my own.
Sunday Comics
The sun is shining slowly, the birds are flying so low
Honey you’re my Sunday Comics, so pay me what you owe me

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