gabby's playhouse

a gabby schulz & ken dahl internet repository

gabby's playhouse

New Book

hello just popping in my utter crypt of a Web Site to announce a new book for sale:



u can click the link to buy it on lulu. and i will happily send u a free one if you can help me navigate my ftp to shed all this wordpress bloat & reduce this website to a simple html portfolio site!

i’m still not dead but this website might as well be

in case you stumbled onto this website for some reason i just wanted to let you know that i don’t update the blog anymore, & i know it (& thus me & my whole life also) looks super sad this way, all dusty & irrelevant, but i drove to downeast maine a couple months ago, and have been living in a cabin in the woods as of a couple days ago, which is beautiful and wonderful and also means i have to drive an hour to an internet connection. i’m very happy with this setup, except i also wish i had a nicer, simpler website.

toward that end, in the amazing event that you actually read this far, i have been looking for someone to help me pare down gabby’s playhouse to a nice simple portfolio and store (with a link to my instagram account, @gabbyschulz, for any Social Media Interactions because facebook & twitter freak me out). i know that simplifying my website sounds easy, but i’m not sure how to go about efficiently paring down a big bulky php mysql-database wordpress site to a simple economic html art site — if you know an easy way to do this, please get in touch at fantods @ gmail !! i am even willing to pay you for your help, in cash or art, because this site is probably now my only realistic means of support now that i’m basically squatting tom bombadil’s shack.

once i overhaul this site i can put up a bunch of prints and comics that i’ve been sitting on for a year or so, and make more prints and comics, and probably start a patreon so i can afford to keep making more comics and prints. you know. all the trappings of a real, genuine desperate middle-aged cartoonist in the 21st century.

and also! if you’re one of the few people who have been patiently waiting for me to sell you a copy of Sick, please email me ([email protected]) your address and i will send you a free copy by the end of the month, as a way of apologizing for keeping you waiting so long. van life and rural life have proved pretty disorganized affairs, and truth be known, i’ve also been spending most of my time and sanity for the past couple months trying to get rid of an intense rat-mite infection (don’t ask how i got this), which has me carting all my fabrics down to the laundromat every few days for yet another ineffectual wash cycle, and bathing with ineffectual but stinky sulfur soap at the gym, and spraying every surface down with ineffectual vinegar, rubbing alcohol, cedarcide, and permethrin… it’s been pretty rough, but now that i’ve moved away from the source of the mites maybe things will get better and i will recover a little sleep & sanity. enough to address my finances anyway. so maine has been a bit of a struggle, but also extremely, wonderfully pleasant and beautiful, and life after chicago has DEFINITELY been a large net gain. it’s amazing how often i pause to thank providence for giving me the strength to escape that dismal situation… and thank you to anyone who offered me any moral & financial support to do so. now if i could just get rid of the profound existential exhaustion of finding a reason to live in a world where donald trump literally runs the world and cartooning is still for kids…

Sudden unexpected new book for sale

I have a new book out!

Alec Longstreth’s bizarre, Fitzcarraldo-like obsession with publishing my awful diary comics (previously only seen on this extremely obscure & neglected website) has beaten the odds and reached fruition! A Process of Drastically Reducing One’s Expectations is an almost 400-page collection of the diary comics and doodles i scrawled out in Iowa City and Chicago, during hopefully the most hopeless and miserable period of my life. It (the book) is now for sale *cheap* through Alec’s new Phase 8 imprint here:


Quick, dirty, with more warts on it than a STI clinic’s biowaste bin, the book also contains that 5- or 6-page watercolor comic i drew about nature, The Only Thing I Know.

Might as well jump!

still alive post

These words are just a means of confirming that my Online Presence persists — but since it’s so much easier than posting pictures on this website, here is an arrow pointing to my instagram account: ————> @gabbyschulz

I know i promised some of you links to copies of Sick, which still haven’t materialized (the links, not the Sicks) due to 1) technologies beyond my comprehension, and 2) my present & persistent transience. In re: #2, i have been living in a van for the past month in a sort of trial run for retirement. It’s been deliciously liberating, and has lifted much of the depression-fog that has clouded my mind and blog posts over the past two years, and is a hard life to give up.

My van is presently parked in an undisclosed location in Eugene, Oregon, at the tail end of a freak ice storm which has made the landscape a bit hazardous (at least three cars in the neighborhood have been crushed by tree limbs falling from the weight of ice). Falling death-blocks aside, i’ve had a wonderful time here. Perhaps at this point in my life i’m finally woo enough to find a place in a town in which a conversation about your “energies” is entirely appropriate.

But then, it appears LOTS of unhireable van-dwellers have had these same hopes over the years — in fact there’s an entire chicken coop on top of a bus down the street. I hear the dirtbag job market can be a tad competitive here; that’ll be investigated further after the solstice passes with its ominous jingle of sleighbells (whatever those are)…

In the meantime, please feel free to use this spot for any timely reminders as to any accounts we have yet to settle up with you (books, drawings, etc.)… my whole life got tossed like a salad when i moved into this van, so my feeble expired brain would appreciate the jogs!

gonna be at SPX

Very uncool to still be blogging, but i’m going to be at SPX this weekend with my New Book, Sick, which is up for an Ignatz Award for Outstanding Graphic Novel. Novel indeed.

I’ll also have some riso prints printed by Chicago’s own Perfectly Acceptable! If i wasn’t trying to get some sleep and was better at social media i would show you pictures of it. I’m also bringing some original art from Sick, in case you want to help me lighten my load for the trip back…

Chicago 4th of July


First in a recent series on How Can You People Even Stand to Live Here i’ll be posting every couple days, for the 3 or 4 of you who for some strange reason still check this site for updates & don’t just look at my instagram (@gabbyschulz). Basically this is for people with small phones and/or bad eyesight (like me).

a nation nukes my nucleotides — or, my idea of fun


As anyone unfortunate enough to be trapped in a conversation with me for more than ten minutes can attest, my research of Nuclear Misadventure has become a major hobby. I believe the fashionable term is “passion project” — one that basically everyone i’ve ever met has passionately projected themselves away from, when the subject arises. And who can blame them? Reality’s, like, a total bummer.

Unfortunately for myself i, unlike The Entire World, find it fascinating, or at least notable, that Western culture has spent the last century busily, quietly saturating every cranny of our one & only fragile planet with invisible, tasteless, odorless, indestructible, highly unstable ionizing radioactive material that aggressively destroys & deforms the DNA of every living thing, on down through generations unseen.

And who couldn’t derive a bit of entertainment from the way we Americans are so quick to package this threat as a Good! Or, failing that, a Necessary Evil! Or, failing even that, Just Plain Nonexistent!

And so you can imagine my thrill as i — possibly the last consciousness-cursed citizen of this God’s Greatest Nation [Made and Kept Great Through Constant Threat of Global Nuclear Destruction] who just so happens to have taken the 15 minutes of reading necessary to grasp the megaton-obvious fact that Our Friend the Atom, in all His various sacred stations before, during, and after weaponization, is a clear & way-too-present deleterious force upon the ebbs and flows of our meaningless yet precious little lives — stumbled across this little roadside attraction last week:

Haha! They took one of human history’s most wretched, contaminated signposts to human folly, and turned it into a (literal) tourist (literal) trap! Which, natch, doubles as another tiresome, hubrissy performance of “See, it’s harmless!”

Ugh. Very tempting, America, but i’ll pass. No one ever accused our nuclear lobbies of being underfunded, but Jesus Oppenheimer Christ, that’s an all-American machination to make Machiavelli look like Minnie Pearl. Just imagining the vast buffet of unintentional irony (and radiation) waiting for me at the trailhead of that little “monument” has me tucking in my lead-lined lobster bib.

It’s a shame i’m still coddling my thyroids too much to actually visit this cathedral of cogdis, because damn, i could hate-visit the shit out of that place. But as it stands, the mere act of living in Chicago already keeps me flush with more rads than i need to catch a dose of the world’s top death-disease — i just found out that the woods where i’ve been mushroom hunting for the past two years is where they quietly, sloppily buried the world’s first nuclear reactor. (The cynical among you may now speculate as to why this area is presently the least-developed and greenest area in Chicagoland.)

And it’s not like you need to unwittingly visit a nebulous Manhattan Project footnote to get your dose of DNA-destruction; many random houses in the Chicago suburbs are presently gamma-ray-a-go-go (whether the owners know it or not). And lard forbid you should live anywhere near St. Louis, at all, ever.

To paraphrase one of the more popular maxims in this disgusting, depressing, downward-spiralling daymare of a country: You can take my dosimeter when you pry it from my hot, tumor-ridden fingers.


Hear my grumpy Bullwinkle-with-a-headcold voice

Just a little note here on ye olde Personal Blogge that i was recently recorded in conversation with Sean Ford for Inkstuds:

It was quite an honor to be granted this brief sliver of attention in an otherwise deliberately apathetic culture/job market! I’m sure everything we said was incredibly insightful and uplifting, but since my own voice sounds to me like a brain-damaged bear overdosing on codeine, i haven’t yet summoned the courage. If hope exists, it is my hope that you enjoy it, on this bullshit, eardrum-assaulting american holiday, in which we somehow manage to celebrate exactly all the things that make the world a nightmare. It is however an excellent day to test the theory that states one’s intelligence lowers in direct accordance with the amount of american-flag apparel they own!

life creeps

You know you’re fucking up your brand when you need to make an “i’m not dead” post on your little website — but here i am. Sick is officially out, and i am still trying to figure out how much postage will be to mail it to people both domestic and abroad. It is just a little too big to fit in a standard flat-rate priority envelope, so it might get expensive. We will be humping down to a branch of Chicago’s illustriously hateful US Post Office today to examine options. We have two boxes of Sicks and we would like to sell them to you, so please check back here soon for updates on ways we can make you pay.

CAKE was pleasant, if tainted by a record-setting mass-shooting event caused by an aggressive exchange of gunfire between former and current male law-enforcement authorities, all of whom were doubtless brimming with pathetically confused attitudes toward love and hate. However, last week our book also received a “red-star review” from Publisher’s Weekly here, which has christened me a “grim master of the form.” Which probably makes me a cartoon necromancer. I’d say i wish i could use my powers to make everyone on Earth gay, except for the fact that everyone on Earth is already gay, in endlessly, beautifully varying ways, and the only time that’s a problem is when a pocket of particularly toxic masculinity is injected with the steroid of judeo-christian murder-cult strictures on breeding, and the resulting contradictions create an unbearable crucible of self-hate which boils over hypocritically, enviously and murderously into the surrounding population — particularly that part of the population who has already worked through their demons and decided life is for living and loving, not closeted sublimation and fear. Unfortunately, our culture wholeheartedly gives preference to the latter over the former. So goes civilization.

Hopefully we will be traveling to SPX in September of this year, where, again hopefully, we will have a modest 400-page collection of diary comics and other drawings for sale, thanks to help from Alec Longstreth’s Phase 6 brand.

In other news, i was going to buy a new pillow, because my current pillows are really old, nasty and moldy — but i couldn’t find any on amazon that i could afford, so i just decided to not buy a new pillow. Also we’re planning on moving to the Puget Sound area this fall, if anyone has any advice about jobs or housing. It seems like with the mild winter and ample nature, Olympia would be a nice place to live, if i can find a job and a cheap apartment. Maybe soon the fault line will shatter and life there will become a hell, but hopefully that will happen long after i myself biodegrade.

Also here is a picture of a page from Sick because when i update this “blog” without a picture it makes it look weird and boring.