DreadWhimsy Jukebox.

Super Mario Brothers 2: End Theme.

Koji Kondo. (1986)

[performed by banksta2 on YouTube]

He Came For Them in the Night.

Mr. Peanut always gained the parents' trust first.

These small-town yokels were so easily blinded by his Old World charm.

A week later, he'd be gone.

So would the children.

The Secret Life of Dogs.

There was something so unfair about the way Clifford died.

His life had been so... well, Big.

And the virus had been so small.

Connie, Don't Be Silly, You Look Great.

Ohmygod, she'd practically starved herself all winter long for this, but who's kidding who: there was no hiding this muffin top.

So, no way.

She'd stay right here in the pool until Marcus Fitch and his friends left.

DreadWhimsy Jukebox.

Simon Smith & His Amazing Dancing Bear.
Alan Price Set. (1967)

One Classical Monologue, One Contemporary.

The best part was the hours were flexible, so he could still make open-call auditions.
It's just to make rent, Robbie, he told himself.
It's not who you are.

He's Not Returning My Pages.

The worst part about doing coke was that there was never enough.

But let's face it, there wasn't enough coke in the world to make Paulina forget what happened that night in Minneapolis.

You Knew What I Was Like When You Said Yes.

"Hey, you know what? D'you like that lavish wedding we just had, Amber? You like the penthouse my job paid for in Westwood? Oh you do? Oh, well okay then, so I guess you don't have a problem with me checking my e-mail during our honeymoon after all, huh."

DreadWhimsy Jukebox.

I'll Follow the Sun.

The Beatles, Beatles For Sale. (1964)
[Performed by the talented Adrian Holovaty of Chicago:

http://www.youtube.com/user/adrianholovaty ]

You'll Be Safe Here Now, Try to Rest.

Who could Tenille even talk to about the hallucinations?!

About the "people only she could see."

Look, she wasn't crazy. And I know: only crazy people say they're not crazy, but, I mean, she wasn't crazy, you guys.

"We're Getting Reports of a Massive Space-craft..."

Looking back, was the short enslavement of humanity by our alien overlords, Mieux-Mieux and Praxis, really such a "reign of terror," the way the cable news media's trying portray it?

Let's not re-write history. It wasn't all that bad.

Not Without My Swine Flu.

Jing-Wei was coughing by the time they reached the outskirts of the city, but Lien couldn't let her sister rest. Not for a minute. Not for a second.

Not until they made it past the quarantine zone.

Not until they warned the outside world.

+ Add-As-Lover.

The website compiled all of Tiffany's preferences, browser history, cookies, tweets, iTunes and Amazon purchases and selected Latex Mould CM#473-S.

Three to five shipping days later, Dakota Cody Dylan knocked on the front door.

DreadWhimsy Jukebox.

Halfway Down the Stairs.
Robin the Frog, The Muppet Show. (1976)

[Lyrics from a poem by A.A. Milne.]

Just One Day Out of Life.

Oh, what the fuck, thought Carter. It was Pride Weekend, after all.

Let the world see what they liked in the bedroom. We're all adults.

Spread the Dread.

Like some starving woodland beast drawn to the sound of fat children gossiping by a riverbank, Professor DreadWhimsy cannot resist the siren song of this "Twitter."

Follow me, Minions, and tell your friends:

BEHOLD! The DreadWhimsy Twitters.

"You Know What They Say: You Bark, You Narc."

"Naw, I don't like this--"

"--just chill, dogg--"

"Naw, Kapowski's been in there too long. They found the wire."

"They didn't find the wire--"

"They found the wire, man."

"Just chill. All right? Let me think."

"The Year is One!"

My Dearest Minions:

Thank you for ONE YEAR of whimsy and dread.
This week last summer, these chronicles of despair were begun, and like some sticky larval creature plucked from underneath a flagstone, taken home in a shoebox, and secretly raised in your closet, it has grown unexpectedly into something fearful.

Continue to send pictures of mirth and woe.
Continue to tell your highly-suggestible friends.
Continue your hideous transformation.

And wipe that smile off your face.

In Due Sincerity,
Professor Adrian DreadWhimsy.

DreadWhimsy Jukebox.

Mrs. Brown, You've Got A Lovely Daughter.

Herman's Hermits. (1965)

Itsy Bitsy.

Tabitha'd talked about the spider behind the woodshed for weeks.
But Mommy just drank her "Shardo-nay" and told Tabby to stop lying. Like her father.
Well, Tabby was tired of Mommy's Shardo-nay mouth.
And things were about to change around here.

The God of Small Royalty Checks.

Anuja couldn't believe they talked her into the reunion.

Hadn't they made enough money off their one hit single?

Yes, Hello? (Dance! Dance! Dance!) had put her through university. In the States.

Sigh... "One night only, Romesh. Then I'm on a plane back to London."

"Oh! Krissy! Show Dr. Goldberg Your Act!"

A terrible hush fell over the dinner party.

Mrs. Poppler quickly offered everyone a coffee?

Or a brandy?

Or a scotch-and-soda?

Anything to take attention away from the Holocaust joke Miss Spunkypluck had suddenly blurted out.

Tell Me About Your Background.

Point is, he didn't care if it made a "good story."

If it made him "stand out from the crowd."

Growing up on the Compound... it just... wasn't the sort of thing he wanted to talk about during a college interview.

Not even to get into Wake Forest.

I Dream of Tatooine.

George awoke in a fevered sweat.  

Must have fallen asleep on the sun-porch again.

But the omen was unmistakable.  Same dream as always.  

And it only ever meant one thing: time to expand the franchise.

Mags and Viv on a Tuesday Morning.

"No, I know, believe you me, and I said Nigel--"

"--no you did not--"

"--no, I did, I said, Nigel, if I can trim myself down there so can you."

"Stop it."

"I did! I said, here: Hand me the clippers.  I'll even show you how."

"Oh, you are terrible, aren't you."

Terminator: Salivation.

"No, it's the perfect direction to take the franchise. This time they send back an even deadlier one to kill Sarah Connor as a little girl. It's a prequel, plus with the dog it opens us up to a PG family rating.

"I mean, I'm just trying to do my job here... you got something against us making money?"

It's Just There's Full-Time and There's Freelance.

Cherylynn from HR was nice enough, and he appreciated her coming all the way down to talk him through it.  

But he could tell by the fake flirtation in her voice:  

He didn't qualify for the training seminar.

The Wire, Season 6: The Airport.

What, you think he liked having to turn in his own partner?  

ButterScraps was a good man, a good cop.  A cop's cop. 

But now he knew where the missing crack-cocaine was stashed.  

He had no choice.

Don't you get that?  He didn't have a choice.

I Just Want Someone That Shares My Values.

"God in Heaven, Dr. Harmony, you mean you've deciphered all 27 Dimensions of Compatibility?  Do you have any idea what that means?!"

Wikipedia Entries From the Future...

The August 2014 outbreak of violent hysteria, which lasted 17 days and was never fully explained by scientists, inspired a popular trend of "panic culture," including the now headline-grabbing punk sensation, "The Japanese Clothes Explosion."

Terminator: the Hokkaido Prefecture Chronicles.

Niko sat dead still, sweat building on her forehead. Just breathe... she thought.

Its laser-blades can't see you if you don't move...

It was the very scenario she'd feared since they brought the LadyRoomba 3000 home.

HP Lovecraft Accurately Predicts the Internet.

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age."   -- The Call of Cthulhu, 1928.

Personally, I vote dark age over going-mad-from-revelation, given the two.  But that's just me.

You Want to Get Your Foot In at Mir, Don't You?

No, he was serious.  He was gonna talk to the temp agency.  No, he was, no listen, he was because this was not what he thought taking a temp job in space would be like.  At all, okay?

"Sir, This Contract Arrived from Hell for You."

Waking up in the lustful embrace of Satan every night like clockwork at 3:37am and satisfying his every carnal demand was a price Newt Gingrich was prepared to pay.
That first night, still sore and stinking of sulphur, he planned his 2012 acceptance speech.

Everyone Smile and Say "Criminal Liability!"

It was part of the deal he'd struck with the Coruscant D.A.'s Office: if he showed up at the hospital they'd waive the Jedi-Assault charges over the Incident last month with the grade-schoolers that had gotten in Lord Vader's way at the Starbucks.

A DreadWhimsy Special: "...in a production of..."

For Minions who appreciate a touch of specificity, I present a secondary picture blog dedicated to the fine art of the overly earnest theatre publicity picture: "...in a production of..."

http://inaproductionof.blogspot.com/