Of all the comedians, I don't remember anyone saying they didn't like Rodney Dangerfield. Maybe that was because he seemed like the ordinary funny guy from down the street, the guy who made everyone laugh at the church supper.
He was such a Mr Everyman! My father, in line at a casino buffet in Atlantic City one day, looked to his left one day to see Rodney shoveling fried chicken onto his tray.
But his whole schtick was "I don't get no respect," and that sad fate continues even today.
My uncle's dying wish - he wanted me on his lap. He was in the electric chair.
Rodney lived until 2004 and passed away at 82, and all his wife wanted was for a fitting memorial in his old neighborhood of Queens, New York City.
A community group commissioned an artist to come over from Italy and paint a giant mural of Rodney Dangerfield on a brick wall, and the results were...let's say...less than satisfying.
To be quite frank about it, I think the guy on that wall looks more like Bill Maher than Rodney.
I could tell my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio.
Mrs Dangerfield is on record as saying she isn't pleased, but local resident Flynn McLean thinks the mural is fine.
"I would not want to see that mural removed just because it's not the most flattering" likeness, said McLean, who was kind enough to point out that Dangerfield "wasn't the best-looking guy in the world."
On Halloween, the parents sent their kids out looking like me.
Ms Robicci says she was not paid for her work, and is "heartbroken" about the results, but would be willing to come back and brush up on the mural a bit.
A girl phoned me the other day and said... 'Come on over, there's nobody home.' I went over. Nobody was home.