Ladies and gentlemen, Greg Prus!

In the live sex shop district of Sanjo where you can buy every implement in Giga that your heart ever dreamed of

that your mind your bent, warp, horrible, twisted, hunchback, dark ass mind in the cavern of its most

depravity can possibly imagine. And having said that it's good family fun.

And you know, it's getting time-squareified here. I see more and more places like, you know, the lobster roll,

which is clearly a chain and shit like that. If this had been a lobster roll when I first came to London,

it wouldn't mean lobster roll at all. It would be a place where you dressed up as a crustacean and someone boiled

you in a pot and then poured butter over you and then spank you with a wooden spoon for half an hour.

Don't let it happen here. That's all I'm saying. I mean, you know, oh, but at the strip joints, then kids can't come.

Good. That's the point of Soho. This is a place to score drugs and stay out all night long.

This is not a place for children to go. Let them go to Eurofucking Disney or somewhere if they want to have a good time.

You'll miss it, as all I'm saying. As soon as you gentrify neighborhoods and all of a sudden it's just white IT people walking around being douche wads every second of the goddamn day.

You'll pine for the day. You'll pine for the day when a hustler came up to you and hustled you on these very streets and stuff.

And offered you every manner of mayhem here. Driving over here tonight, we were in the, by the way, this is the smartest man in the world,

and we're on the air. If you're listening out there in groupcast land, right on.

It's a great time to make some chemical tea. Whoa, and then spike it with loud name because that's what you're going to need to get through tonight's mind bending me asthma of caterpillar secrets.

It's going to be, it's warm in this room. Let me describe the surroundings for you. Normally we're in the bar down stairs, which is called Soho Something Below.

Today we're up in the main theater and there's an oil drum to my left. There's tires behind me. There's what appears to be a step unit with what looks like sea grass sticking out of the back of it.

Actually, it looks like the docklands in the 80s. And I'm forming a white supremacist group as we speak because of the backdrop that we've got here.

I have no idea why we're in the post-apocalyptic desolation room here tonight, but I'm going to go with it and get a green mohawk before the show is over.

Watch out for the pools of alkali. You're going to have to fight rats the size of standard bread puddles to get your way out of this goddamn room. That's all I know.

It's a theatrical experience tonight. We're normally in an alcoholic me asthma. I've used me asthma twice now. If you can guess and count how many times I use it by the end, you get nothing.

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