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Ladies and gentlemen, Greg Brookes.

Hello, everybody.

The smartest man in the world bookcast once again takes to the ether from the

salubrious confines of the rich, maroon interior of the Bar Luba chair in West

Hollywood where we once again enjoy the palpitating pace that dictates this festive

neighborhood and its particular predilections across the street from the

pleasure chest here where it is indicated on the pleasure chest wall that

they would like you to get your heart on because it is February.

And as you know, we had analogist and we had coctober and we also had jam

you where I believe and now February and next month, swarch.

Thank you, Matt.

So it's always exciting to work across the street from a novelty sex toy store.

I would have it no other way. I don't see how I can, really.

So it's exciting to be back here at the Luba chair. I can't remember where I've been,

but when I do, fuck I'm in and have some stories about that shit.

I was in San Francisco last week for the San Francisco sketch fest,

which is a very lengthy festival. Now when I first started in the forties,

we had just showed Japan what piece was going to be like.

The sketch fest was only a couple of days then and it was just some

arantino street theater type stuff and the great tradition of San Francisco,

...