WHERES MY PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY?

WHERES MY PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY?

"Right here dumbass!" The sandwich on the cutting board said. "Now cut me in half and share me with someone you love." The sandwich laughed and laughed, but it was

soon silenced by a withering glare from the glass of milk. "You're a fool, Sandwich," the milk spluttered. "Being eaten by that cretin won't give you immortality. Run now while yo

u still can!" The Sandwich snorted, pickles flying out from under his bread. "If you recall, Milk," he chuckled. "I don't have legs! I wouldn't be able to run if I wanted to!" He

sobbed. "Get up and run," a glowing heat lamp above him commanded ominously. "or be eaten." The sandwich struggled. Then jamming two french fries into his torso he hot fired it out

of there in a hurry. Now he was a ham sandwich on the lam. Where could he go? Whom could he trust? He, so delicious, had only one choice: find Dick Gregory, who was fasting for

all the wrong reasons. All the peaceful and not-so-peaceful protests of the 60s and 70s did little or nothing to improve race relations. Dick Gregory should take out the president

To sit on the library roof to watch Squawker and his new girlfriend start a family. Where was Nona? Last year she had only two eyases. Something wrong with that so this was

a bit of a problem. "Aw, screw it!" I said to Squawkers, who appeared quite dejected. "Here. Forget about Nona! Have a beer with me & let's watch the pigeons." Birds of a feather.