I'm feeling pretty down. Sure, there's the

I'm feeling pretty down. Sure, there's the wife, kids, job, car, house, etc. etc. but what's it all about? Work work work, worry worry, stress. Eat, sleep, repeat. I think I'll buy

a life transplant... The next day, a surgeon sucked out my lame memories and ambitions (and some of my tummy) and replaced them with gnarly ones. I now thought I was a lavasurfer.

the doctor's hollow laugh rocked in my ears, "It's not Lavasurfer you fool, you have partnered up with Lucifer. HA HA HA HA." What did I do? How would I

get out of the partnership with the Prince of Darkness? He'd surely let me have spill next time I was caught inside a Lava tube. I asked the Doc for a

sexy rejoinder, but he just shrugged his shoulders and said "Da" then something about kinetic office clackers. Being in tubes of hellish lava was not conducive to my lifestyle, so

I excused myself from the 'Mount Etna Experience - Experience Pompeii in Real Time' and buzzed off on my Vespa to a hillside cafe for a well-deserved glass of Valpolicelli. "Ciao,

said a passing executive transvestite. "La mia nonna e sfolgorante. Dov'e la scimmia? La scimmia e sul ramo". I splashed the remander of the Valpolicelli in his face and proceeded

to consume my spaghetti. The executive transvestite then did something I never expected. He kissed either side of my face and said (in English), "Finally! I've met my match! Please

beware of the bees! I'm through with this stand-up routine. Just crappy TV shows from now on!" With that the executive transvestite clicked his heels and vanished.