I’m not entirely sure why, but lately I’ve been really busy with illustration work, mostly commissions for various publications. I’m not complaining at all; it’s just odd how these things tend to come (and, sadly, go) in clusters. I’ve been doing some fun stuff, and hopefully you’ll be able to see most of it soon.

The above piece, a digital painting deviating from my usual line-art-based style, was done for a new digital magazine that’s about to open minds and break hearts, NSFW Corp. The brainchild of writer/recent Vegas transplant (by way of one of those countries where they speak something called “English” but it sounds funny) Paul Carr, NSFW Corp — currently only launched in “private beta,” though you can get on the waiting list for a paid subscription (seriously), is a strange beast. I don’t think I can put it better than Paul does:

A news-weekly that’s published daily. A magazine without bylines, but with an accompanying radio show in which its writers discuss their work. An electronic publication where “comments” are permanently closed, but where letters from readers are always welcome.

That said, there are some terrific talents involved with making this thing happen on the back end, including Josh Ellis and Roger Erik Tinch, and bringing the first issue to life on the front end, such as Hernan Valencia and, um, ME, so … yeah. It’s optimized for your sexiPad, but also works wonderfully on an old-fashioned web browser (well, not “old,” just “fashioned”). It’s a bold experiment, but then again, so was The Daily, and that’s doing all right for itself, yeah?

Plus, it’s a Vegas-based start-up. So, inherently, it’s at least held together by liquor, cigarettes and desperation. Check it out.

I was going to title this post “Where I’ll Be,” etc., but the truth is, while it would be great to see you all at the Arts Factory this Saturday, May 5, from 5 to 10 p.m. for HellPop!‘s Free Comic Book Day celebration, I’d be happy if you just went to any local comic book store that day.

And you’ll probably be happy, too, because — as the name suggests — the first Saturday in May, comic book retailers everywhere give away free comics. All you have to do is walk in. Yep. Free Comic Book Day has been going on for a decade now, as a way to encourage new readers, provide added exposure for stores, and just plain celebrate the awesomeness of comic books. Publishers of all types produce special editions to offer for free, and most participating retailers host sales, parties and special events.

Here in Las Vegas, we’re lucky to have some amazing comic book shops, and they’re going full-bore this year. Cosmic Comics is, among other things, giving away a copy of the original Avengers #1 from 1963. Alternate Reality Comics will have local artists such as Warren Wucinich, Brice Gilgens and Sam Gorrie, the Sausagefest food truck, and costumed helpers. MaximuM Comics will also have costumed guests, free tacos (it IS Cinco de Mayo, after all) and other refreshments. Friend and occasional collaborator F. Andrew Taylor writes more about local FCBD action in the View Newspaper.

Anyway, let’s get back to where I’ll be. HellPop! will be throwing down all day, starting at noon, offering free comics and collecting food donations for Food Not Bombs Las Vegas. But HellPop! is going to pick up where some other shops leave off, getting going at 5 p.m. with a line-up of punk and underground bands on the Arts Factory’s back stage (including The Mapes, Pigasus, Fred Ward, My First Rodeo, and more), artists Heather Mulvey and Joseph Garrison, and labels GeyKido Comet Records, Think Speak Publishing, and of course, Pop! Goes the Icon. I’ll be manning the PGTI table with (I believe) Warren Wucinich (doing double-duty that day!) and Deryl Skelton. We’ll be doing sketches, signing comics, and, um, other stuff. Probably enjoying libations from Bar+Bistro. Who knows.

So, yeah, even if you’re going to another store with your kids or whatever earlier in the day, come by the Arts Factory later that evening to say hi, have a drink, watch some bands, and hang out. It won’t be the same without you.

(Photo of me at MaximuM Comics for last year’s FCBD nabbed from Cara Vescio on Facebook. Hope it’s OK, Carla!)

When I posted the last page of The Utopian in October 2010 (technically, I probably posted it a month earlier), a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I’d been producing that webcomic entire — writing, art, coloring, lettering, etc. — at a pace of one-to-two pages a week for a year-and-a-half. While I never missed a scheduled posting, there were definitely some close calls and late nights, and when it was over, it was nice to go back to single-project-based work. I put out the trade paperback and effectively closed the door on that chapter of my creative life.

Or so I thought. But then a weird thing happened:  readers started asking about a sequel. They naturally assumed there was more coming. It’s not that I hadn’t considered it (the ending was deliberately left open to interpretation ), but I had no concrete ideas about what to do next with that particular world I’d created.

Plus, even though I was done with the story, I had put a lot of effort into protecting and securing the “Utopian” name, something that only happened toward the end of the series. Sure, my hand was forced by external parties to do so, but why bother if I hadn’t intended to do more with The Utopian? And, so, on April 15 — the third anniversary of the original strip’s launch — a new Utopian comic debuted online, subtitled “Foundation.”

I don’t want to give away anything to anyone who hasn’t read the first volume of The Utopian (and if you haven’t, here, buy it for 25 percent off), but basically, the title protagonist’s story was completely finished, leaving me only supporting cast to work with. I knew what I wanted to do with some of them, but where I came up with the idea for a lead character in a wheelchair? I don’t know. I can’t pinpoint when I first started brewing ideas for this sequel of sorts, actually, I just know that once I laid down the initial foundation (get it?), it sort-of built itself from there.

So what we have is a twice-weekly webcomic serial that’s vastly different from its predecessor, yet taking place within the same “universe” with many of the same characters. Instead of being told from the singular perspective of a lone protagonist, it’s being told “soap opera” style, bouncing between the interconnected lives of various players. Even the presentation is different — a landscape format more comfortable for web reading, whereas the previous volume was laid out in standard, portrait comic book format.

I have no particular goal in mind other than to let these characters tell me where their stories should go next. That’s the biggest difference — this comic is all about the characters. Plot is secondary. That doesn’t mean there’s not a definitive, linear story — there most certainly is. But like The Wire*, how all the pieces fit won’t be obvious at first. You have to watch all the threads slowly being woven together into a tapestry. Or something like that.

So, check it out. Subscribe, if that’s your thing. I’m slowly building, but the pace will pick up. The stuff I have written for down the road is snappier, tighter, as I find a rhythm to this new (for me) style of storytelling. And if it sucks, I want you to let me know. Of course, if you like it, I’d love to hear that too. Either way, I appreciate you giving The Utopian: Foundation a look.

*Yes, from here on out, everything I write will be influenced by/compared to The Wire. Deal with it.

Yes, this is a photo of a cat chilling out on a couch. Inside my house. Inside a space in which I live. Yes, dear reader, somehow, I have become a cat owner. Kind of. Purely by accident.

As most people who would call me “friend” or who simply stalk me on Twitter should know, Casa Awesome already houses two Pekingese dogs, who at first came as part of the Sara package, but have become my surrogate fluffy, stinky children. Rosie and Sophia don’t ask for much — just all the attention in the world ever, whatever food you’re eating, and as little sleep for their masters as parents of a newborn baby might enjoy. They aren’t particularly social with other animals, their usual reaction to other dogs ranging from dismissal to disdain. Basically, they’re a couple of snobby, spoiled princesses. But we love them and do little to discourage this behavior.

Now, as only a few of you know, I’m generally allergic to cats. For me to even tolerate being inside a house with feline residents, I typically have to down a strong antihistamine. As a kid, I had cats around, and was fine with them, but sometime during my late teens, that changed. I get instantaneously sneezy, my eyes water, my nose runs, etc. This, along with the fact that cats are usually known as selfish jerks who will ruin your house and lives for their own pleasure, had led me to believe they are evil creatures made of allergenic spores. Or something like that.

Well, a few weeks ago, this orange-and-white stray appeared in our backyard, on top of our tall, cinder-block walls. We knew this because Rosie and Sophia — who normally bark at invisible things in the night — were now barking at a visible thing. The cat wouldn’t come down off the wall, and wouldn’t go to any apparent home, but it kept meowing, so I figured it was hungry and gave it some food. On the wall. But it staying of the wall continued to cause the dogs to go nuts, so I braced myself for some claw action and reached up to bring it down — but the cat seemed pretty OK with me handling it.

We basically set up a camp outside our kitchen for the cat, with a pet carrier, blankets, water and food. I took photos of it, contacted local vets and shelters, put fliers up around the neighborhood, etc., hoping to find its owner. This cat was VERY friendly with both people and dogs, was obviously domesticated and not feral, and really wanted to come inside the house, so I figured someone was missing it. One old woman did respond to the fliers, but she ended up being very confused about the physical details of her lost cat, and our stray did not like her very much.

The next step was to take the cat to our vet to have it thoroughly checked out, scanned for an ID chip, and brought up to speed on any shots before we tried to give it away to a good, cat-friendly home. By this point, however, the cat was already starting to grow on us. The weather got really bad (rainy/windy) one night, and I felt really bad, so we let it inside the house, because even its mobile pet shelter wasn’t protected enough. At the vet, we spent $150 on the exam and shots, found no chip, and got that much closer to tossing out the idea of finding it a new home, especially because it had become quite attached to me by then (it would only let me put it in the carrier or handle it).

I don’t remember there being a definite decision to keep the cat, but somehow it just happened. It went from living outside most of the time to living inside most of the time. It went from not being allowed into the bedroom side of the house at all to being allowed, supervised, in any room except our master bedroom. We dropped another $100 on supplies for it. Even the dogs no longer avoid it at all costs — instead, they either just ignore it or mildly tolerate it. And my allergies? They don’t appear to be any worse than normal (and normally I have mild hay fever, so it’s hard to tell). Maybe it’s the cat’s dander isn’t so bad. Maybe it’s that we don’t let it in our bedroom. Maybe it’s that I still wash my hands after handling it. But whatever it is, my sinuses aren’t freaking out (yet).

So, yeah, we have a cat now. Her name is Cat. Because I think naming animals is kind of stupid. I mean, sure, for dogs, it helps to get their attention, but for cats? They won’t listen to you. Anyway, she’s still sad that she’s not allowed in the bedroom (deal with it), the dogs keep trying to/succeeding in eating her food, Sophia still ignores her, Rosie sometimes tries to fight her for food, and we’re trying to break Cat of her rug-scratching habit. But otherwise, all is well in our now three-pet household. I just wonder how things will go when Sara’s parents show up with their dog tomorrow …

I originally had a few blog posts planned for this week, full of the usual self-promotional and/or irreverent bullshit I usually sling at you. Then I found out yesterday — as most of us did, through Facebook (this itself a topic to be later addressed) — that Tommy Marth had died early Monday morning, likely by his own hand. At that point, feeling like all the air had been forced out of my gut, I kind of just went offline, aside from dealing with answering other mutual friends’ questions about what happened.

Tommy and I weren’t much more than acquaintances. We’d spent plenty of time in the same rooms, we knew hundreds of the same people (EVERYONE knows Tommy), we’d probably shared a drink or two together; he may have even done sound for my band. Thanks a lot, awesome memory of mine, for not remembering more. But, the thing is, this is the second time a relative peer (Tommy was 33) died this year, but unlike when the dearly missed Doug Frye left this realm just after New Year’s, there was no prepping for this. Doug — like Tommy, a long-time mainstay of the Vegas music scene, both on and behind the stage — had cancer, and even though it accelerated faster than anyone expected, we were all sort-of prepared, you know? But Tommy killing himself? Based on the conversations I’ve had with other acquaintances, it came as a complete and total surprise.

See, Tommy drank in life with a voracity rarely seen. He packed more into 33 years than most people do in twice that time, if ever. I’m not going to repeat his resume here — Mike Prevatt’s solid eulogy on the CityLife website does that more than adequately. But even though he was a few years younger than me, Tommy set an example of how to live one’s life to its fullest, and I admired — and somewhat envied — that. He was well-read, well-traveled, and man, he rocked going prematurely bald like no one else. To think that someone with so much not just behind him but ahead of him would say “fuck it” to it all, well … it’s hard to conceive, and it’s why my initial reaction was “fuck you, Tommy.”

And that’s basically the sentiment echoed by someone who can far better explain why Tommy’s death is such a loss to so many people in general, and to Las Vegas in specific: Joshua Ellis. In a blog post entitled “Dick move,” Josh tells some great stories, gives some personal insight, and does a much better job than I ever could in doing him one proper while telling it like it is. Go read it. Even if you have no idea who Tommy Marth was, go read it.

In the meantime, I do what I can do, and that’s draw a picture. It’s not enough. It won’t bring him back. But it’s all I have.

As I said on Facebook: Tommy, I wish you were alive right now so I could fucking hit you.

In high school — or at least, toward the end of it — the Forum was among the various Las Vegas Strip locales that were popular with the under-21 set, especially during that heyday of the “family destination” movement (about which my good friend Geoff Carter writes in this week’s Vegas Seven), along with the Luxor, Excalibur and Circus Circus. But why the Forum? Look, strip away the faux-classical facade and the fancy-ass stores, and you still have A MALL. Teenagers hang out at malls. Especially girls. And the boys who like to find them. Plus, back in the day, the Forum had a pretty cool arcade, which was located beneath the mall where now the valet can be found (I think).

After high school, it still came in handy to kill time (I seem to recall vague memories of being high there at least once). Or to pontificate the meaning of life. Proof:

More importantly, it provided me quasi-gainful employment, in two ways. First, when I was barely making ends meet working as a part-time sales associate at Chess King inside the Meadows Mall (if you have to ask, you won’t get it), I took on a second job at the Sweet Factory inside the Forum. It was located approximately where that giant Tourneau store is now (well, one tiny corner), which means it was right outside the animated statue show that used to be there. Yes, once every hour, I had to be subjected to the same animatronic Roman gods nonsense.

Thankfully, I only worked there a few nights a week, and only for two months. That was when my friend Stacy, who worked as a stock girl at Ann Taylor inside the Forum, let me know about an opportunity with her employer at the new Ann Taylor set to open inside the Fashion Show mall down the street. She got me an interview, I got the job, and literally the same day, I quit both of my other jobs (the Ann Taylor gig was full-time, paid better than either, and I was an 18-year-old punk, what did I care about burning bridges?).

Since then, I haven’t spent too much time either at, or thinking about, the Forum Shops, aside from the occasional Cheesecake Factory trips back when it was the only location in Vegas, or when I’ve had to kill time between other things at Caesars Palace. But I’ll always have a soft spot for this testament to capitalism, for all the girls I macked on at the arcade, for the candy I ate on the job, for enabling me to pay rent and eat more than ramen noodles. Happy anniversary, Forum Shops. Keep selling the dream.

Either way, it’s actually full of some decent suggestions, so if you know dudes or chicks looking to plan a weekend getaway to Vegas that’s a little naughty but mostly just fun, they’d do worse than to read the article, which is available online as well.

Other than clipping out those pages for my overstuffed journalism portfolio (no, literally, I have a decade-old binder that’s not cutting it anymore), I’m pretty loaded up with comic stuff right now. Finishing the first 20-odd strips of the Utopian webcomic relaunch (more on that next week), working on art for a short comic being included in a new anthology (stay tuned), and fielding artist submissions for a new project I’m developing. So if you don’t see me around, that’s why. BUSY!

“twitter pj perez” – Yes, I tweet. Not as often as I did a few years ago, but still enough to have 41,000+ tweets under my belt. As a general rule, I simply use “pjperez” for account handles whenever possible, unless some rat bastard beat me to it. So same goes for YouTube, though not for Facebook (see “rat bastard” above).

“pj perez yet unbroken” – Apparently, either people are too lazy to type the “as” in As Yet Unbroken, or they don’t know the full name of the band. Either way, despite believing the band in which I play guitar (now) is as unknown as the name of our new CD would have you believe, someone out there in Google-land is looking for us.

“pj perez kickstarter” – This one is a bit perplexing. Not sure if people are searching for my Kickstarter profile to see what projects I’ve backed, or if they’re looking for projects of MINE to back. If it’s the latter, well, I’m sure at some point I’ll get tired of bleeding my own money for projects and start begging you guys, so stay tuned, and I’ll be happy to take your money in exchange for goods.

“pj perez imdb resume” – It’s a short resume, but it’s there. If my master plan goes well (see megalomania, above), then it should be growing this year. Or if you need a script/script doctoring/fluffing, let’s grow it together!

“pj perez amazon” – BITCHES BUY MY BOOKS!

“pj perez born” – Hmm. You trying to find out how old I am? I AM ETERNAL. Where was I born? Valley Presbyterian Hospital in Van Nuys, Calif. How was I born? Caesarian. Now you’re sorry you asked, aren’t you?

“pj perez amysolart”, “pj perez megan_lane” – I grouped these together because they’re both obviously searches for my name plus the Twitter handles of other people, both of whom are acquaintances from different circles. So was it Amy and Megan looking for mentions of me in their own timelines? Or other people looking? I can’t imagine it’s the latter. And I don’t even have a funny comment to punctuate this one!

So … there you go. I guess now Google will index this page, and instead of getting what you were actually looking for, you’re going to get this post, which tells you nothing useful. But if you have any real questions, drop me a line, and I’ll try to come up with a handy answer. Or make up something completely.

*And by “every so often,” I mean ALL THE TIME.

Omega Comics Presents, as you may know, is the name of the flagship series from my lil’ comic company that could, Pop! Goes the Icon. From day one (February 2010, for the record), its mission has been to publish new, original works from relatively unknown creative talents. Some have been weird. Some have been great. Some have been successful enough to launch new properties (sadly, not for us). Because of this unevenness, the series has never been carried by the monopolistic major comics distributor, Diamond, and we’ve had to get by on sales from the internet, select retailers who support indie comics, and convention exposure. Hence, sales have never been terrific — a couple hundred copies per issue would be considered great, at this point — but I have at least been able to cut some small checks and garner some fair reviews.

However, another big drawback on entering the market big-time has been the format of the series: 32 pages featuring three-to-four stories of varying genres and quality — something that makes for a hard sale both to a distributor and to new readers. So last year, just before collecting the best of the first year’s output into a single volume, I decided we had to shake things up. First, Omega Comics had to go full-color. Black-and-white is great for stuff like Scott Pilgrim, but not for something like this. And secondly — more importantly, as far as I’m concerned — we had to sharpen the focus to increase the marketability of each issue. So instead of three or four random stories, we’d highlight one, full-length “cover” feature that could potentially launch a new property, and then back it up with a short that would provide added value and another outlet for up-and-coming creators.

Hence, we have the first issue of the second volume of OCP, namely, which introduces Bluetick & Redbone, a pair of ne’er-do-wells who find themselves caught in the middle of a set-up they never bargained for. It’s the kind of action-comedy you might have seen on the big screen in the 1970s, with lots of cussin’ and shootin’ and drinkin’ and women and cars and … well, you get the idea. It’s written by Alex De-Gruchy, drawn by mpMann, and it’s accompanied by a super-villain spoof by Russell Lissau (a good pal who’s become a regular writer on Strawberry Shortcake comics. No, really!) and Justin Castaneda.

At this point, I’m not sure what physical stores this comic will be available in when it ships on May 9, but if you’d like to have a copy delivered directly to your doorstep, you should pre-order one now. If you do, I’ll toss in a copy of Omega Comics Presents vol. 1, no. 1 for FREE. Yep. If you’re one of those people who likes to read things on your computer, iPad, Kindle, whatever, you can download a PDF version for only 99 cents from DriveThruComics. Amazing, right? We live in the future. And remember, not only will you get a good read out of it, but you’ll help these talented folks buy their next Happy Meal. Win-win, for sure.

(Even better? You don’t have to read any crappy stories by me. I only appear on the credits page!)

Actually, up until a few minutes ago, my desktop looked more like this, but under direct sun, it even started to get too warm by 10:30 a.m. I’m trying to cram in some catch-up work on The Utopian Foundation, scanning some Homemade Comics, working through distractions, etc., before I move on to prepping for tonight’s As Yet Unbroken CD release party at Theatre7. Yes, it’s many hours away, but I have to make sure all our gear is packed, set lists are printed, camera batteries are charged, alcohol is purchased, etc.

All that said, we’re kind of hoping for a miracle tonight, because Tim, our singer, came down with a flu over the weekend, which turned into laryngitis this week (likely aggravated by a rockin’ rehearsal) — basically, the worst timing ever. I want him to feel better just for his own health, but obviously it would also be nice for us all to sound great playing our first live show in more than a year. People associated with the band seem to be falling ill all around: Our old guitar player, Rick, was going to do a guest appearance on a few songs tonight, but he also got sick, and won’t be able to join us now. I’d better be really careful today not to slice off a finger or something.

Once that’s all done, I have to redirect my attention to a six-page story I’m slated to do for a new anthology that’s coming out later this year. The deadline is May 1, but I’m not the type to wait until the last minute (mostly), and I really need to crank that out over the next two weeks … especially because I’m also in the midst of rolling out Foundation. It’s already written and thumbnails are done, but now I have to do the real artwork.

Anyway, that’s about all I have time for now. I hope to see you kids tonight. If you want to make it to the AYU show, but can’t, we’re going to probably stream it live on the internet. Tune in!