You better squeeze all the Charmin you can while Mr. Whipple’s not around — stick your head in the Comix and get yourself a tan.
Today is her birthday, they’re smoking cigars. He gives her Sunday Comics, and sews a bird in her knickers.
Across the nation, around the world: Everybody have fun tonight. It’s Sunday Comics, so spread the word.
Everybody have fun tonight!
Roforofo don change them, them go look like twins. You no go know who be who, Sunday Comics don change them — them go look like twins, you no go know who be who. You no go know your friend from who.
Rotating head, friends in high places
No need to guess what he’s got in that briefcase
A mind like a gin-trap, one swollen ankle
Sunday Comics try to look on the bright side of things
The styling is raw jamon, Comix from the Commons can be replicated, but not decepticated. I got brothers under Jughead, Johnny’s on the Quest; Dead departed Crankshaft, in pea porridge may he rest. Know you’ve read the others, phonies to the lovers, but then of course, the choice is yours.