This is meant to be light. If you want to proselytize, RM is that way.

I saw on comedy channel last night a female comedian (comedienne?) explain that she has heard that Heck is whatever you imagine it to be. She said she would be sent to Dante's Stairmaster circle of Heck where as she exercise and sweated for eternity the music would be drunken secretaries sing Michael Bolton songs karaoke style.

My version of Heck would similar. I would be consigned to Dante's Aerobics class circle of Heck. I'd be the only guy in the class that consisted only of ugly, married women except for the instructor. The instructor would be my ex. The music would be a techno remix of Shania Twain's Man, I feel like a woman. (Man, I feel like a heterosexual, not that there is anything wrong with transvestites.)

My own private heck would be one where the only TV shows are The Brady Bunch, Partridge Family, Judge Judy and Beverly Hills 90210. The only car is the Pontiac Aztek, the only movie playing is Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, and the only music artists are Cher and Gloria Gaynor.

The only food available would be raw eggs, with bubble-gum pop bands like NStync and the Backdoor Boys playing for all eternity while I'm forced to watch Fear Factor and The Bachelor.

Ouch, Adam, that's pretty close to mine. Hadn't thought of the car thing, though!

Don't plan on going to Heck myself.

I think my life has had plenty of enough Heck in it already.

If I had to describe my personal Heck it wouldn't be much different from the way my life has gone at times already.

Oh, yes, one more thing - the only available woman is my ex sister-in-law. NOOOOOO!!!! STOP THE INSANITY!!!