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.
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.
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?
Nathalie Rosa Bucher explores the graphic journalism of the Middle East.
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.