Major Malfunction: Feed my Sat Monkey

In this confused rant^W^W talk, I will explain why the little green men are right, and also know how to party. I will show you some new toys. Shiny ones. Ones that go 'beep' and have flashy lights. You will like it, and I will be able to return to my home planet, mission accomplished, to the adulation of the triple-breasted masses and the reward of a grateful nation, followed by tea, medals and an inadequate state pension. Or I'll go to jail, whichever's quicker and/or cheaper. OK, so you've sated your almost bottomless appetite for pr0n, obscure sports, late night poker and reality TV from countries you've never heard of and hopefully will never have to visit, so what else is there to do? What else is up there? (Apart from little green men, obviously... which are completely real, BTW... You should see some of the stuff we've got over in... oh, wait... I'm not supposed to talk about that... ) Where was I? Oh, yes... so I've got about a gazillion channels on a trillion satellites all bobbing about above me in space, but what are they all doing? How can I find anything interesting amongst all that background noise? Enough with the pr0n already! I want to see something cool! I want something nobody else is getting! I want what THE MAN's got!!! I want to be able to say to my friends "It just comes to you... This stuff just flies through the air... They send this information out - it's just beamed out all over the fuckin' place... All you have to do is know how to grab it... See, I know how to grab it.". And stuff like that. Yeah, baby. That would be HOT! I'll also talk about something else. Something that'll probably get me whacked. So let's not talk about it yet, eh? Miss Moneypenny says that Major's been a very naughty boy and can't come out to play today. Instead, he'll stay after skewl and write a thousand times "I am not a Secret Agent in the employ of Her Majesty's Secret Service, I do not take tea with Little Green Men, and my cover name is not Adam Laurie". His travels to security conferences around the world will be suspended until further notice, and Governments, Police, Military, Big Business, Little Business and Little Boys will no longer pay attention to his (strange) advice. When he claims to have a Secret Nuclear Bunker, his tuck will be confiscated and he will be sent to Matron for 'Special Treatment' (and we all know what THAT means, don't we? Yes, Matron). Now, heads down and get back to work, and no talking at the back there! I SAW that, Gates minor! Report to me after class..."