Hey everybody, it's time to slip on your gloves, your apron, and your protective eyewear and start rooting around the big Stupid Comics Miscellaneous Pile to uncover some overlooked bits and pieces of comic book leftovers that might have missed our eagle-eyed Mister Kitty team of top stupid researchers. Yes, it's another grab-bag of whatever! Brace yourselves.


Remember back in 1986 when the kids are all running around shooting each other? Oh, and there was Lazer Tag too. You can still find a few off-brand light-based shooting tag game arenas around wherever 12 year olds have birthday parties, but if you're a grownup you'd better stick to paintball, airsoft or your local insurrectionist mob. Tight blue jumpsuits not included!

But say you don't like running around shooting your friends. Maybe you like baseball instead. But you're lousy at it and don't make the team! How can you still stay close to your beloved baseball even though cruel fate keeps you from actually playing on an offical team?


Well, you could go down to the sandlot and just play unsupervised, non-league ball with the fellas. Or you could torture yourself by watching other people play baseball while you keep score or try to write interesting articles about high school games. Your choice!


And then there was the time Superman went to the UK and met Lex Luthor and Lex Luthor's girlfriend Ardora, who have apparently shortened his legs.


If only Superman had been a registered BLACK BELT and joined the ranks of the deadliest men alive as an AICONDO MAN. You too can be an AICONDO MAN, just give us twenty percent down and sign this mortgage at ten percent interest for thirty years. Your AICONDO has central air, loft ceilings, and will turn you into a deadly fighting machine, but does NOT come with its own parking space. That's extra.


But the real problem facing us all is, what to do with all these comic books lying around the place? Well, you could just stack them up in a pile in the basement until they're eaten away by rats and insects. Or you could protect them from dirt, dust, moisture and younger siblings with these amazing SUPERGRAPHICS binders decorated with art by professional comics artist Jim Steranko, and shipped to you by professional comic artist Jim Steranko's underpaid assistants. Guaranteed to be the most breath-taking comic treasure chest you'll ever see - because it's probably the ONLY comic treasure chest you'll ever see. Guaranteed!


SUPERGRAPHICS binders would be a great way for Little Audrey to keep her Playgirl collection fresh and wrinkle-free! This particular issue has the Lyle Waggoner centerfold, a definite collector's item.


Meanwhile the mighty fists and gigantic thighs of Superman have managed to THUD that poor man's body into a jumbled mess of shattered limbs and dislocated joints. Way to go, Superman.


Why not take a vacation from your local odors and household germs, and instead wallow in somebody else's odors and household germs?


I'm not going to wash my sheets and pillowcases like some 19th century drudge! A few blasts of LYSOL will leave my linens fresh, clean, and coated with friendly chemical compounds, ensuring refreshing and only slightly toxic sleep.


Spray those shoes, spray that shower, spray that phone, spray other people's phones, walk around your motel hosing everything down with LYSOL Brand Spray! It's the best vacation ever... for shareholders of the Lysol company, that is.


Once you've dosed your surroundings with chemical warfare, it's time to get camouflaged up and become an invisible warfighting master! Win battles, games, and whatever contests you can enter that require you to smear green and brown paint all over your face.


Or maybe you just want to spend a quiet afternoon with a more sedate action figure. Steve Scout is America's ONLY Scout action figure! Because we really don't need more than one! You'll thrill to exciting kneeling, standing, sitting by the campfire action, all the thrills of a real Boy Scout camping trip with none of the rain or that weird "trail mix" Jim's mom always sends along!


Meanwhile Superman shoves his hips out of joint and smashes through Toyman's brand new picture window. "The door is right there, Superman!" Toyman whines.


Did you know every year is an election year now? I sure hope you registered to vote in the Richie Rich Poll, and that you printed your name and address clearly so we can send psychiatric help for the troubled kids who voted for Reggie as their favorite character. Then Miss Fluttermeister will give us all tongue lashings, as indicated in the text story above, which appears to be lifted from "Penthouse Forum."


Speaking of Harvey characters here's Spooky and his ghost girlfriend Poil wandering around a ghost city filled with ghost citizens and ghost purse snatchers, and sure, that's a little off model, but seeing Spooky and Poil act as if they're an old married couple ("You tell him, honey!") doesn't really make me want Hostess Fruit Pies so much as it makes me wonder why ghosts want money. Or Fruit Pies.


Then there was the time Sad Sack was captured by the Russians and sentenced to death. Hostess Fruit Pies, everybody!


Sure, we make fun of those Hostess ads, but this is what Hostess ads looked like before they started putting comic book characters in them. BORING!!


Meanwhile, The Shadow looks on with disgust as Superman foils crime without shooting even ONE person.


If there's a group of ten year olds failing to properly assimilate outsiders into their peer group, Binky will be sure to show them the error of their ways. That's the Binky promise! Now come on kids, just because that kid seems "square" doesn't mean he wouldn't enjoy (checks notes) bowling. In fact it probably guarantees it.


Viewed through the lens of modernity, we might be tempted to say that this advertisment for "tiki gods" is culturally appropriative, colonialist racism, shamelessly stealing indigenous traditions for amusement and profit. But we're pretty sure the only natives involved with these icons were native New Yorkers.


Proper landing procedure: power back, hold the nose level until the airspeed drops, put the flaps down, tuck in your chin, and angle your super body at a 45 degree angle to the ground.


To get that coveted second class mailing permit, comic books had to have two pages of text. Didn't say what kind of text. Stories, riddles, editorials, and whatever kind of weirdo smut describes "Boners, Moaners And Groaners." Cue Miss Fluttermeister and her tongue lashings!

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