The moment I realized Garbage Pail Kid designer,Luis Diaz was a Glubdub member, i knew it wouldnt be long before we connected. Happy had just recently discovered the Garbage Pail Kids and fell in love with just how gross they could get. He fancied himself a Garbage Pail Kid and entertained visions of one day being immortalized on the ront of a trading card. When Happy's 5th birthday rolled around, I commissioned Luis Diaz to do a piece with that in mind. The rest of this piece is what Luis came up with, along with a brief history of his relationship with the Garbage Pail Kids.
Well I collected GPK's like many other kids my age from '86-88. I started collecting around the 2nd series which luckily were still in stores which was my favorite series next to the 3rd. I collected up until around 7 and somehow they kind of disappeared or something. I just didn't see that many anymore and maybe we just lost interested and focused on something else. The 80's were like the craziest time of inventive toys and playing at a friends house and sharing toys was commonplace. I remembered kids having Trapper Keepers with Garbage Pail Kids all over them and my friends door had GPK's from top to bottom. I thought that was so cool, but I just couldn't have my precious cards on a wall that I knew one day I might move or would be painted over which funny enough some people painted over GPK's. I think a lot of parents really hated GPK's but they were a strong influence in my art which I didn't know for a very long time. I didn't think of GPK's again till some time in college and I knew the 80's were slowly creeping into everyone's subconscious.
The millennium then hit and I worked doing graphic design right after school and decided I wanted to draw and paint more. I mean I graduated from art school with an Illustration degree and I didn't want to get stuck in doing design so I quit and went freelancing full time. I heard about GPK's coming out from a friend and I was suddenly transported to that world again and I decided I wanted to find out if there's a possibility I can be involved in the series. So I contacted several artists after doing some digging online and found out more history about the artists and that kind of thing. Original GPK artist from the 80's series, John Pound gave me some tips at first and Jay Lynch who was creating some of the gags gave me the addresses to send samples to Topps, Inc. I got a phone call several months later and it was a dream come true. I could see my 8 year old self scream out, "Alright!" with his fist in the air.
So it was a learning curve for me, but the fans responded and shortly after I got tons of mail requesting autographs. It was insane. I never signed anything as a professional for people before and it felt nice. I decided I wanted to make a vast improvement from series to series so I got better at painting and getting the "Pound" look down. I sold out of all my paintings weeks after I got them back from Toppswith the help of one of my buddies who has a GPK website: http://garbagepailkids.proboards25.com/
One of my paintings for Topps even went for something like $3400 on ebay. It was crazy. Unfortunately Topps owned that one cause under contract they have the rights to purchase my art if they choose to, but I was lucky to have almost all my art always delivered back to me. So far Garbage Pail Kid commissions and other related things have been a major part of my income. I am working as a freelance illustrator today, but I have started to pursue gallery events locally and nationally this year and hopefully gain some recognition in that sometime, but I know that takes some time and it's a different group of collectors. Since working on Garbage Pail Kids since 2003 it has put me on the map. So it molded me twice in my lifetime and I have a lot I owe to those crazy kids.
Guns, Saris, Naked Ladies and Babies
Written by Cori from a dream
I went to the food store to pick up a few items. When I arrived it looked different inside and I couldn’t seem to find my way out. Once I finally made my way outside I didn’t know where I was. I was standing on a covered porch of what appeared to be a college dorm building. I looked around and saw lots of green grass, people walking about, and the grassy courtyard was surrounded by large old Victorian homes with signs on them saying “Building James”, “Building Arthur”, etc. As I stood there trying to figure out where I was a dreamy man with a long black beard and sleeves of naked ladies tattooed on his arms appeared by my side. I realized he was my boyfriend and I relaxed a bit. Then he disappeared and a huge group of people gathered in the courtyard.
I was at some sort of presidential rally. A man with a group of aides was making his way around to my porch. Everyone was cheering and waving little flags. When the man got to my porch he began making a speech. Everyone started cheering again as he spoke, but I was the only one who couldn’t see what he looked like or hear what he was saying. In an instant his face and words were clear. He was saying “If you believe what I believe, say HEIL HITLER!” Everyone around me stood up, raised their palm to the air and yelled “HEIL HITLER!”
I sat on the porch stunned. Everyone was quiet and he was glaring at me, waiting for me to stand up. I couldn’t do it, but I knew by the look on his face there was going to be hell to pay. I quickly walked off the porch and tried to get as far away as possible…
The next thing I knew I was on the 3rd floor in one of the victorian mansions. The feeling was very tense and I immediately felt that I was trapped. There were women in long gray dresses scurrying about, tending to babies, ironing, etc. They all had bright red nails. Some would say hello but refused to look me in the eye, instead keeping their heads down. It was then that I realized they had big shiny red gumballs for eyes. The few men I saw were normal looking, but eerily charming. They kissed my hand and offered me a glass of Nestea. One woman approached me with news that my boyfriend had stopped by. Without looking at me she told me he asked her to give me a gift. He said to let me know he had to go away for a while. As she shuffled away with her head down I opened my present. It was a round bottle of red nail polish.
All of a sudden I was covered in dirt so I went to take a shower. When I got out of the shower my clothes were gone and there was a gray dress hanging on the door. I had no choice but to put it on. I remembered I had a gun in a small compartment of my bag so I hid it under my sleeve. As I exited the bathroom there was a man claiming to be my new husband and holding a glass of Nestea. I shot him point blank in the head and pulled him into a closet. Oh it was on now.
I had to escape the mansion or die. The men and women were nowhere to be seen, but I knew they were waiting for me to make a wrong move. As I hid in the closet the women slowly began to come out pretending to go on about their day, holding babies and carrying jars of jelly. I waited in the closet with my new dead “husband” until they disappeared. I crept out of the closet, ready to shoot, but there was dead silence. I quietly made my way, room by room, trying to find a staircase to lead me out. Each time I felt I was getting closer to my escape I would see something planted from them to remind me they were watching. First I saw a kitten sleeping in a bassinet (covered halfway with a blanket, aww), then as I passed another room I saw a baby playing with blocks on the floor. As I reached the next corner there was a big fat white haired man waiting for me. I shot him in the chest 5 times but waited to make sure he wasn’t a threat anymore. Then I ran to the next room and saw another man with a pitcher of Nestea. His back was facing me, but my gun wouldn’t work. I kept pulling the trigger but only water would squirt out. I took my chances and ran down the stairs. I was so close now. As I hid behind a door I saw my boyfriend’s face peek around the outside of a window. He looked weak and I motioned for him to stay away. Then a big green ball went bouncing past me down a hallway. I carefully followed the ball, found the second set of stairs and ran down them to freedom. As I reached the last step the fat old man shot me in the chest with a self satisfied grin on his face.
I couldn’t believe I was so close and this is how I was going to end. I fell to the floor holding my chest, my hands drenched in blood. I would never see my boyfriend again to know if he lived. I was getting weaker and everything started turning different shades of blurry turquoise.
Then somehow I stood up, shot the old man, and began walking to the front door, feeling like the lone survivor of a horror movie. Before I reached the door I saw Kate Hudson wearing a sari. She had the kitten from the bassinet in one arm and the baby playing with blocks in her other arm. I shot her in the face, took the kitten and baby and got the hell out of there.
I don’t know why I shot her since she represented freedom in the dream. I guess just because she’s annoying.
PaperMonster
Written by Nathan Riley Matters
As you know Jeff and I do this thing called Gludub in our spare time. And of course that time is precious to all of us. Jeff and I know how insanely fortunate we are to be able to do something this cool. We should all be able to say that. Thank you to everyone who comes by an checks us out, and thanks us for what we do. Its what keeps us going.
The following is an email exchange with a guy called PaperMonster. He approached us to collaborate on a story. And so we are.
PaperMoster: Hey We met at Crybaby Gallery a couple weeks back and I wanted to see if you would like to write a story on this or do a post on your site: http://papermonster.wordpress.com Thank you so much!! -PaperMonster
Glubdub: Yeah man, Totally! I like PaperMonster. It could mean so many things. What does it mean to you? Can you tell me why it is you do what you do? Maybe how you started, or what happened to you that led to a life of art. What pieces would you want to use in the story and get some eyeballs on? Thanks for reaching out. Like I tell everyone there's so many great stories to tell, sometimes I cant choose which ones to do. But when someone comes forward and tells me they want me to do a story on them, the mire apt they are to help me write it. which is what we're all about; capturing that energy that comes from film, music, art and words, creating something bigger. Alex
One day I will. They're all some of my favorite artists and they created these two huge pieces together. Coming soon - the story on how they came to be. For now, feast your eyes on them.
HEY JAMES, TIM, JOPHEN AND BLAINE!!!! If you wind up reading this, and you feel like telling me your version of the story of these pieces, we'd love to hear it!
Piping Up with Richard Nixon
Written by Administrator
Last night I was a bit buzzed, and the bartender told me to pipe down. A complete stranger sitting next to me, suggested I pipe up instead. She must have liked what I was loudly babbling about. I stopped and pondered that suggestion long enough to remember a bong in the shape of Richard Nixon’s head I once had.
I smoked out of it for a few months with no screen and no water in it. After a few weeks I turned it upside down to dump out the resin and dust trapped at the bottom, and out popped a big dead bumble bee. It looked to have been there for most of the time I’d been using it. It was covered in green dust, and soaked in a thin film of THC resin. I wonder how much of that bee’s soul entered into me through my lungs.
