Ladies and gentlemen, Greg Bruce, hooray, hooray!

The smartest man in the world, Krukkast, once again takes to the eater.

Here from the salubriest confines of western Hollywood's most exhilarating and exalted comedy cup,

the bar Lubitsch, here in the back room, the Ruby Red definition all about us

and what you can't see, of course, on the side or 19th century, nudes poised over me.

A giant mirror behind me, of course, once again revealing I have no male pattern baldness.

Which is the theme of tonight's show.

No, thank you very much for coming out.

If you're listening out there in Krukkast, this is an awesome time to grind up some quailudes that you've had in the freezer since 1981.

And make a jalatin pudding out of them.

A jalatinous pudding.

I don't know where to begin this week. We're going to have to go very quickly.

I have 750 pages of material, but only seven short hours to squeeze it into.

So let's get underway right away.

I received something to know that I've never received before.

Surely you've gotten a letter placed on your performance area desk before.

Yes, thank you for asking.

I have, but rarely in a big, chief yellow tablet binder paper, all that's missing are the three holes so that I can put it in my binder when I get home.

I would have preferred to receive a peachy folder that had the guy, thank you, for the two people who remember peachy folders.

A lot of you grew up in the post computer era, so your whole life was dominated by phones and having that gaping hole where your personality is striving to fill.

But if you're from the paper era, as I am, the space age, when I was born, I was born before the information age.

I was born in the space age.

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