love

We were disappointed to find out that the lovely blue antique Austrian ski pants with red stitching didn’t quite hold up to the wear and tear of rehearsal.

After having eaten maybe a dozen double-salt licorice candies, wrangled about the set list for the upcoming VERY IMPORTANT gig, and crooning smoothly through the first verse of “Big Tongue Man,” the ski pants were undone by it all and came careening down the slopes of Kristofer’s legs, only to sit there in a heap around his ankles.

No one could rectify the situation until the song was over. The shame of it all is currently sitting very still for a portrait with a painter so we can hang it on our wall and remember it.

This entry was posted on Monday, February 11th, 2002 at 10:24 pm and is filed under All our secret typings and malcogitations. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.