Ladies and gentlemen, Greg Proops.

We're the loudest in the ride.

Proteins, Proop Adeluvians, Proop Zillas, Proop Mekagod Zillas, Proop Spaterians, Proop

Peasia, Proop Chickens, Proop Skittens, Tawny Catains, Proop Misa Delatoros, Dioff's

Diagnosophists.

I can never pronounce it.

Friends of Dinosophists, welcome to the Cerulean World here of Cerea's Hist of the Deep

Red Sea at the end of the block at the back of the bar, Lubitsch, where everything is

so vermilion that your eyes are overcome, and a sense of Mars imbues every moment of

our fighting fixture.

Welcome once again, the smartest man in the world, Proop Cast takes the air here from

the bar, Lubitsch across the street, from the fabulous pleasure chest here in West

Hollywood, where it is Suck Timber.

Last year was Cocktober, we'll see what happens this year, and then of course, Woovember.

So many things, so much to do, so little to go through.

Let's start with where we're going to be playing up, coming up first, we'll get that

out of the way.

We're going to be at the bar, Lubitsch tonight, he read off the piece of paper.

And we'll be in Brooklyn at the bellhouse on the 6th of October, so tell your friends

in Woovemberg to leave their fucking baby carriages at home that night, get a Peruvian end

to look after the twins, because it's time to go to the bellhouse and drink a perno.

She can have fornat if she wants.

...