Last Friday Jared and I emerged shivering from the Happy Gland Band dirigible, cursing the fact that we had once again forgotten that the fabric covering of our airship provides poor insulation against the chilliness of Hallow’s Eve eve night. We shook it off, though—we’re not ones to whine and complain that a cruel draft had slipped in through the beaded curtain that separates the dirigible’s expansive kitchen from the sleeping area, and down into our toes through the avocado green comforter that covers our bed.
Rather than shiver like nervous chihuahuas, we got out into the sun and started hatching video-making plans for the song we had recorded the previous evening.
And now, for some behind-the-scenes costuming action, or A Dead Sloth Photo Essay:
