I'm glad I don't live in Miami anymore. Arthur Ramsey may call it the land of "babes, beaches and babes," but after living there six years, I can tell you from experience that the burg attracts disaster like Job. I once had to cancel a date with a great girl because of a riot. My sister was caught in Hurricane Andrew. Crabs dig tunnels under patios. It's always humid. And finally, on this show an illegal indoor rave led to the spread of the alien signal. I'd chalk this up to the infectiousness of rock and roll, except for the fact that DJ Karen Reynolds was playing house music. It's just Miami's luck that Karen's mix included a third-hand copy of the alien nutsmaker that she got from her brother on the cargo ship. Instead of providing th
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