I. hate. mouthbreathers. You know who I'm talking about. Those people (generally men) who are overly self-important and are mid- to high-level executives who don't use their East Bank Club memberships for the health benefits of the treadmill, the people who feel they need more air than the rest of us in each wheezy gasp; mouth-breathers. They give the impression that their every move is the equivalent of running 30 minutes and consequently need more air in their oxygen-starved lungs.

It's fascinating that so many of them also have missed the connection between their exhalations and their mouths; they share their halitosis with the world at large, and *my* world in particular.

And let's not forget those who sigh with every inhalation and exhalation; the weight of the world rests on their shoulders and the pressure is coming out of their nostrils at great and tremendous speeds. I'm surprised they're not showering others with their mucus--they might be, but I'm not getting close enough to find out.

I've been surrounded lately by these breath-challenged people, mostly on the trains this week. But today, the proverbial straw was found in the little rotund geekster who was sitting next to me, snoring his way to work. And I don't mean Three Stooges-snoring, I mean there was a chainsaw looking for a blonde teen to dismember. Drooling, startling awake and then immediately returning to the land of Nod, he was the most annoying thing to begin my day with.

I take that back. Rocketing awake at 8a last Saturday morning to the 'stonemasons' (and I use that term loosely) cutting up the bricks and stone to line the walkway between our homes--that sucked. The suckage was compounded by the incredible snoring emmanating from the lump on the couch in the dining room, audible thru the entire house. Entire. It was inescapable. (I'll just add that he was sleeping on his stomach, so don't give me that entire 'lots of people snore on their backs' crap)

At that point, a person should realize that it's time to take measures. There are medical advancements that will make your life wonderful, and help you retain friends and lovers.

Most importantly, it won't piss me off and make me rumble around in a dark cloud for 8 hours.

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In other news: the tutoring? Is pretty much over. Like I've said before, why should I date when I get all the rejection I want from tutoring?

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