Ladies and gentlemen, Greg Proups.

Hello, Proup Castinets, Proup Castilians, Proup Cashews, and other

Proup-like people and quantities out there in the Proupaverse. This is the

smartest man in the world, Proup Cast, commencing once again here from the

friendly confines of Bar Lurbic, deep in the heart of Western Hollywood, where

the alcohol flows both day and night, but mostly now during the broadcasting and

recording of this Proup Cast. If you're out in the world listening to this or out

in the ether, catching us on the wings of angels, be sure to light one up or drink

one right now. It's going to make the show a lot fun here. I don't know how much

this happens to you in your life. You have a day and you're a little bit cranky and

maybe you don't eat enough. For me, when my blood sugar goes low, I'm like a

character on true blood. I'm like the one that works in the bar that turns into

the whirlpool. If one shit except not a sexy, because he has a bitch in chest and

I don't think people are as impressed when I take my clothes off and run through

the night on all fours. But if I don't eat on a regular basis, and I mean like a

hummingbird eats, I mean like 450 calories like every 30 seconds kind of thing,

isn't it? What a hummingbird eats like eight times their body weight in a day?

And you think that's a lot and you think, well, fuck it, they're small. First of all,

if you lived off of hummingbirds, I don't think there is a predator that lives off

of hummingbirds. There's no hummingbird eater, sadly. But if there were, they would

have to eat a lot of fucking hummingbirds to get through the day. Although those

hummingbirds will be power packed with sugar water from a lot of people's houses

...