Spooky Synchronicity Dept. - Ted Templeman Predicts Future!

For the first time ever, again - the swellest album ever made! Now in bite-size chewy chunks!

Th' Four Or Five Guys© what can cast their frayed minds back to the last post, which looked like it was about Susanna Hoffs [below left - Ed.] but was really about Elephant Stone but was really really about choosing songs nobody should ever have to listen to again - will find today's post of shocking significance!

The intense selection process, wherein the finest minds on the planet - and Snorky - cast their votes for songs they'd rather pepper spray their own eyeballs than listen to again, threw up three Beatles songs. Yesterday, Hey Jude, and Something. Just those three.

As I started to curate the album, I remembered hearing a camp twenties version of Hey Jude, which I wished to audition for inclusion. Accessing th' IoF© data banks, I found The Templeton Twins' overlooked classic, Trill It Like It Was, antecedently FoamFeatured©. Scanning the sleeve notes, I was astonished to see three Beatles songs given the Trill Treatment. Can you guess which songs? No? Okay, I'll tell you. Yesterday, Hey Jude, and Something. 

This is conclusive proof that Ted Templeman, boy genius behind the Twins, could see into the future, rendering all existing models of time and attendant theories pertaining thereto redundant, and also slightly stupid-looking. I decided there and then to combine the tracks into a swell medley that would be the high point of the album, sort of like the second side of Abbey Road. Only shorter. And, it has to be said, funnier. Here's where the story leaves the realm of the supernatural and gets boring, so you can skip to the comments right now. If you've read this far. Which I doubt.

I'd originally uploaded a continuous play version of the album. Nobody likes these, and I doubt it got many plays. Looking at the waveform, I understood why I'd taken the easy way out. The gaps between the tracks are about one pixel [audio engineering term - Ed.] wide. It was cut as continuous play. But I wanted separated tracks, so I snapped on my Mad Doctor Eyeball and had Kreemé [left, 18 my ass - Ed.], fetchingly attired in nurse's uniform, pass me my sharpest scalpel. Long I labored and assiduously, into the watches of the night, refreshed only by Kreemé's delicate attentions.

As the first rays of the sun filtered through the high cobwebbed window of my laboratory, I gazed in awe at the result of my labors and, I confess, I cried in exultation! There before me, very probably for the first time ever in the universe, lay a version of this swell album digitally presented as eleven separate tracks. Do you care? Do I care if you care? Do you care if I care if I care? Hoo hah?

This post sponsored by Pat n' Matt's Beer Mat Hats©, out of Butt Butte, IA.