From 2014 to 2018, I published five issues of Bands I Useta Like magazine, arguably my most popular venture to date. By which I mean, I print up copies and they sell. In case you’re one of the over 6 billion people who never got your hands on a copy, you’re in luck!Continue reading
Tag Archives: Garbage Pail Kids
I would like to take this opportunity to shoulder a bit of the blame hurled around in the current Battle of the Generations. Whatever my assigned generational designation might be (“X”), I know for certain one egregious sin that we all committed willfully, en masse.
We watched too much fucking TV.Continue reading
“Battle not with monsters,
Lest ye become a monster.
And if ye gaze into the abyss,
The abyss gazes also into you.”
Hi there. My name is Matty Boy Anderson. I’m a cartoonist!
If you’re new to this site, thanks for coming, I’m glad you’re here. If you’re not, consider this a refresher course! This one’s for the noobs!
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been obsessed with mushroom clouds. Something about their unbridled destructive power, and their strange, haunting beauty.
Also; the possibility that you could draw a really good one. It looked super-cool, and everyone at school knew what it was.
Permit me to bring the room down a moment.
What’s your endgame?
What’s your purpose in life? Are you even aware of one? Are you just running on automatic, going with the flow? Nothing wrong with that, but it all leads to the same big faceless wash-out.
What do you really want out of life?
Those of us who were children in the late 1970s remember a form of schoolyard wampum that was ubiquitous at the time. We traded them with each other, and bought them from the corner sweet shop with our allowance, for 25 cents a pack. We’d huddle and inspect each other’s collections, muttering “got it, got it, need it, got it, need it.” We carefully stored them in plastic sleeves for the future, in meticulous fashion.
Haha! I was totally kidding about that last one. We stuck them all over our bedroom door, until our parents grew furious and made us scrape them off with a putty knife, turning them into garbage.
They were STICKERS. Continue reading