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Ladies and gentlemen, Greg Fruits.

Welcome, one and all, the smartest man in the world, Proofcast, once again takes to the

ether here at the salubriest confines of Var Luba chair in western Hollywood, where the

booze flows so freely as does the vitriol as the evening progresses. Everybody hoist a

high-tankered as we start the new year in earnest, once and for all. Second weekend, there's

no turning back. Whatever the fuck your plans were for last year, drop them and move forward.

How many people by nodding their head out there in etherland tried to keep the holiday

going an extra three days at the beginning of the year by drinking more? Thank you. Me too.

January 3rd now is like, I'm really not ready for this shit to start again. And because

show businesses like high school in almost every way, it doesn't start again. There's people

who aren't back from holiday yet. Really? The sound sounds a little pinging to me tonight.

I know me to be complaining right off the bat. What do you think, Matt? You bringing that down?

I get it. I'm getting a kind of a pinging. I hope it isn't pinging out there in Germany or

Madagascar or wherever you're. I don't even think it's called Madagascar and hasn't been

in about 35 years. I think the Malagasy Republic is what it's called as if anybody.

If you are listening to the Malagasy Republic, God fucking bless you. Surely there's

something else to do like hustle tourists or kill a lemur or something. Oh, I just

stuck a star in my nose. Damn these lights back here. It's awfully damn and I'm blind as a

I'm blind as a mole. I wish I was blind as a bat. That means I could send out weird radar

signals and find out where everything is. A bat would never hit its nose with a straw.

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