I had a conversation with a few friends the other day about things in our environment that can make us sick. A friend was telling me about a report he had seen on television that described a killer mold. The mold, it seems, is so toxic that if it is found in your home, you have to leave the house and all of your belongings behind and I mean everything. No clothes, no personal effects, no family heirlooms, everything must stay except the occupants.

The conversation moved on to other toxic items such as lead paint and asbestos. We discussed how asbestos was commonly used and thought to be safe. We wondered how many substances that are now considered safe would be deemed as toxic in the future.

"I remember as a kid," I said, "seeing trucks drive through the neighborhood spraying a cloud of DDT to kill mosquitoes. Children would line up behind the truck and ride their bikes through the cloud."

DDT (dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane) is a highly toxic chemical that was manufactured as a pesticide. It was considered safe and was used widely up until it was banned in the United States in 1973. It was Paul Muller who discovered that DDT made an excellent insecticide. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in medicine and physiology in 1948 for his discovery.

One of my friends noted, "They used to announce when the trucks would be coming through our neighborhood and tell people to leave their windows open so the DDT could kill pests throughout the house.

"Those were the good old days," I commented. "Ignorance is bliss."

Another friend continued, "You know, back then you didn't hear much about pornography either."

My other friends and I looked at each other as we suppressed laughter and wondered about our friend's left field comment. We waited a moment for our friend to elaborate but received only silence.

Breaking the lull in conversation I made the only obvious conclusion, "It's because of the DDT. Everyone knows that prolonged exposure to DDT leads to pornography. It has to be the DDT. All those kids who rode behind the DDT trucks, they’re pornographers now. That’s what it is."

My friend smiled slightly and said, "You were one of those kids weren’t you?

No, I said. But lead paint tastes just like chicken.

Hi folks. I recently bought a book called Millionaire 1-2-3 by Charles Ponzi. At first I was skeptical but after taking a look at the testimonials I was convinced I had bought a winner.

June Cleaver had this to say about the book, "It is a wonderful book. I have no idea what the author was talking about but it sure looks good on my bookshelf."

Andy Taylor says, "This is the best book I ever bought. It fits perfectly under the bent leg of my coffee table. The table hasn't tipped over since."

Carol Brady comments, "It's a great conversation piece. My husband Mike and I argue about it all the time."

Timmy Martin said, "Originally I thought the million dollar price tag on the book was a bit too high but after reading it I thought the million dollar price tag on the book was a bit too high."

How can the book be so extraordinary you ask? Well quite frankly it isn't but I know you want to ask, "How does Mr. Ponzi's method work?" It's simple. First, write a book full of gibberish. Second, sell one copy for a million bucks and third, keep the money. It's just that simple.

I'm sure you are asking yourself, "Isn't there a better way to make a million dollars?" Well, now there is. My new book, "Millionaire 1-2" will explain this new and easy way to make a million dollars. Buy your copy today but hurry; supplies are limited to the first six billion customers. It's available now at Woolworth and other fine department stores.

I'm typing this so my boss will think I'm working. I'm typing this so my boss will think I'm working. I'm typing this so my boss will think I'm working. I'm typing this so my boss will think I'm working. I'm typing this so my boss will think I'm working. I'm typing this so my boss will think I'm working. I'm typing this so my boss will think I'm working.

This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working. This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working. This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working. This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working. This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working. This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working. This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working. This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working. This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working. This too, I type so my boss will think I'm working.

My boss doesn't know I'm typing this so he will think I'm working. My boss doesn't know I'm typing this so he will think I'm working. My boss doesn't know I'm typing this so he will think I'm working. My boss doesn't know I'm typing this so he will think I'm working. My boss doesn't know I'm typing this so he will think I'm working.

My boss has no clue that I'm typing this instead of working. My boss has no clue that I'm typing this instead of working. My boss has no clue that I'm typing this instead of working. My boss has no clue that I'm typing this instead of working. My boss has no clue that I'm typing this instead of working. My boss has no clue that I'm typing this instead of working.

Dang. Got caught.

Every spring, J.D., a colleague of mine, goes on a three day fishing trip with several friends and co-workers to Core Banks of the Cape Lookout National Seashore near Harkers Island, North Carolina. The island is a primitive place without stores or any means of obtaining supplies and is accessible only by ferry or personal boat. This means that people must take anything and everything thing they will need for a stay on the island.

When camping on the island, most people would be concerned about taking enough water and food to insure that they didn't run out. Not J.D. His major concern is not running out of water but is whether or not he has enough alcohol for his stay. "I myself usually take two cases of beer, a fifth of tequila and a fifth of Crown Royal."

J.D. explained that getting extra supplies on the island is possible but it comes at a high price. "There are folks who will bring you what ever you want. If you run out of beer or liquor they'll get you more but they'll charge you double what they paid. You can lose everything you have and they'll replace it but it's going to cost you twice as much as if you bought it yourself."

He's always quick to tell me of his fishing adventures and he wasn't scared to relay the following true account of one of his fishing trips:

"This guy was with us who had never gone with us before. It was his first trip and he wanted to go take a picture of the Cape Lookout Lighthouse. I told him that we'd be on the island all weekend and we had plenty of time to go but he insisted on going right then even though I explained that it would be about an hour each way. Anyway, we hopped in his pickup truck, he puts it in four wheel drive and off we go."

"Now, the only time you really need four wheel drive is when you're on soft sand. The tide was out and we were driving on the hard sand of the beach. I mean, even if you were to get stuck all you have to do is pop that sucker into four wheel drive and take off. No, he had to go the whole way in four wheel drive so it took us about two hours to get to the lighthouse."

" We get to the lighthouse, he snaps a couple of pictures and he's ready to leave. We weren't there two minutes. We climb back in his truck and off he crawls in four wheel drive. By this time the tide was coming back in and I knew that if we didn't put the truck in two wheel drive and giddy up on down the beach, that we would end up having to drive in the soft sand. If that happened it would take us forever to get back. I mean, I was ready to do some fishing and time was wasting."

"I said, 'Why don't you let me drive a while,' and he said, 'Okay,' so we switched seats, I put that sucker in two wheel drive and we took off down the beach. I was doing about forty-five miles per hour which is moving on out when you're on the beach but I wanted to make sure we got back before the tide came back in. The beach ain't always the smoothest and there are quite a few dips here and there where the ocean goes in and out. So we're flying down the beach just bumping along. Well, we had gone about fifteen miles or so and, well; I just failed to see this one big dip."

We were on the beach in the middle of nowhere. There ain't no traffic out there so I didn't se the need for a seat belt. We hit that dip and I came up out of the seat and when I did, my face just splattered into the sun visor. I didn't even slow down. We just kept getting it on down the beach."

"So we get a couple of miles further when I noticed that my face was wet. I wiped my face a couple of times before I noticed that I had blood on my hand from wiping my face. It didn't occur to me that I might have hurt myself when we hit the hole and I thought, 'Where's all this blood coming from?' I turned to my buddy and said, 'Hey man. I'm bleeding. How bad is it?' He gave me a look like my nose was hanging by a string and told me it didn't look too bad. I decided I should probably stop, take a good look at it and clean myself up a bit before we went on."

"We found some old rags in the truck but the only thing around I had to wash myself in was sea water. Man, let me tell you that water stung like a son of a gun. My nose was skinned all the way down and my forehead had cuts all in it. I looked in the truck and my skin was hanging from the visor. I'd wash with salt water, scream and wash again. Then I'd wash with salt water, scream and wash again."

"Finally I had gotten myself pretty well cleaned up and the bleeding had just about stopped when we decided to head out again. My buddy was just about to get in the truck when he said, 'J.D., they're ain't no coolers in the back.' I looked and sure enough all our stuff was gone out of the truck."

"We turned around and for fifteen miles we picked up coolers and fished beer out of the ocean. I'll just tell you that if you get a steak covered in sand, if you'll wash it in salt water it'll add a tad of flavor when you grill it. Man, our stuff was everywhere, the tide was coming in and we were scrambling to retrieve it all. Anyway, we got everything I think. If we didn't, nobody complained so it didn't really matter anyway."

As his story came to a close and my laughter subsided, I asked J.D. if his friend had ever again accompanied him on a fishing trip.

"No he never has," he said, "and he won't ride in a car with me neither."