#20
Tuesday, September 9th, 2008
The webcomic, not the prog rock album

Jon: It’s back to school for me this week.
From now on, when there’s a week where I don’t have time to draw a full strip, I’m going to start doing little one panel bits like this. Sometimes they might be related to the plot, other times not at all. I guess it will depend on how much I’ve had to drink that night.
Nick: When you’re in Amsterdam, it’s important to get a bike right away. Mine was a rusty, beige, beat up Gazelle Premier Luxe from the ’70s, and I got it for less than 100 euros. I used it every day for four months, sometimes for hours a day, and it never gave me a problem.
About two weeks before my study abroad program ended, the front brake went out, which was fine, since I still had the rear one. Then the rear brake got mushy from overuse, so I tightened up the cable a bit. When I squeezed the brake handle, the cable snapped. For my last two days in the city, I rode with no brakes. (Of course, this was the only time a child ran in front of me–I didn’t hit him.)
My rear tire also started losing air, so I had to fill it up once in a while. But it kept deflating faster. On my last ride from school to my apartment, I filled the tire about a half-mile from home and it was flat when I got back. I left the bike outside my building with the chain around the seat and the key in the lock.
More on bikes in Amsterdam here.


Jon: There’s only so many times that the term “boner inspiring” makes it into the course of your daily work. I’m proud that this was one of those times.

Jon: Apologies for the massive delay. Unlike Nick, my academic forays involve managing group projects, cramming for media law and evolutionary biology tests, and contemplating the utter uselessness of it all. No ridin’ the rails for Jon. And in actuality, you might not hear from Nick for a while longer yet cos he ran out of money in Koln. His parents wired him some dollars (dollahs), but when he went to change them for Euros the guy at the counter just laughed at him. He’s been trying to bum it back to Amsterdam, but his only marketable skill is critical analysis of typography, so he’s having a bit of hard luck. If you happen to be in Europe and see him, please give him a hand. He’ll sing any Pavement song in its entirety for 1 Euro.
Also, on an awesome note, I turn 21 this Wednesday, so I expect everyone to take a shot or beer-bong that day in celebration. We neglected to mention that Nick turned 21 at the end of March, but unfortunately he was in Europe and nobody cared.

Nick: I should apologize for last week’s missed update. I stumbled into a time dilation field for a few seconds, and when I jumped out eleven days had passed. Then, after putting some police tape around the the anomaly, I chucked a few grapes in. When they drop out the other side in a couple of days, they should be just as fresh as they were this morning. Pretty wild, huh?
Unless I can teach Jon how to use Wordpress (”No, man, that says ‘delete.’ Just… fucking ‘publish’ is the one you want, okay?”), there may be no comic next week, either, since I’ll be riding the rails around Europe. No, no, it’s really not that cool. I’m sure your beer pong game will be super awesome.
Jon: Apparently, Clutch and Claire are the only people who went to see Klaxons.

Nick: Our more charitable readers will be glad to know that I have, like Chris Susan, donated my fair share of blood. Well, “donated” might be a bit misleading in this context. The truth is that, come nightfall, Amsterdam’s streets run wild with feral vampires. You can avoid being bitten (and thus vampirized) by fitting a stoppered catheter into your wrist before hitting the clubs. During the walk home, if confronted by a hostile nosferatu, you simply unplug your wrist-tube and offer it, like a straw, to the vampire. In keeping with an unspoken pact, the vampire will drink sparingly, leaving you enough blood to finish your trek.
A problem could arise, however, if you run into a second Prince of the Night shortly after the first. This is why a vampire will pin a black ribbon, not unlike an American AIDS ribbon, to your lapel after drinking your blood, signaling to others that you have made your donation for the night. Do not try to fake this ribbon or to reuse an old one. The vampires can tell.

Nick: Another “classic” strip, written a few years back, although recent events forced us to reevaluate the tastefulness of depicting an authority figure brandishing a presumably loaded firearm in a university setting (our original concept). I can only think of a few other scenarios where implying student/professor BDSM would be considered “more tasteful” than something else. Sadly, ongoing litigation prohibits me from describing one such instance about which I may or may not possess first-hand knowledge. (Hint: It involved a Thomas Pynchon novel, a fifth of espresso-flavored vodka, and two-and-a-half hours underneath the pews in the campus chapel.)
Jon: Yes, I do realize it’s a poor character recognition strategy to have Chris Susan wearing something different in every strip…oh well. He’s the one with the ridiculous hair. I guess that doesn’t help, does it?

Nick: We originally wrote this comic with just Chris Susan’s two lines stretched across four panels. It felt a little bit, well… it was a little bit minimalist, we thought.
Also, we apologize to any readers hospitalized or killed by last week’s implementation of the Comic Sans typeface. Jon has agreed to be drowned in a bucket of tequila if he ever uses it again.