Have there ever been those times when you feel like you are going to pass out from some sort of poison eminating from a co-workers mouth? Do you think the person emitting the gas realizes they are causing your brain cells to shut down?

I have to admit, there have been times when I had a sinus infection that I knew my breath was strong enough to take down a flock of seagulls at 100 yards. In those cases though, I have a family size bag of cherry cough drops to mask the scent. I usually get the "who has cherry cough drops" question about a dozen times that day. I guess that's better than walking down the hallway to see people scatter and fall out like the parting of the Red Sea.

When a co-worker walks up with bad breath, is it polite to offer them gum, a mint, one of those breath strips, or a fire hose? I think so. You see, transient bad breath is a very common temporary condition caused by such things as oral dryness, stress, hunger (ketosis), eating certain foods such as garlic and onions, smoking, or poor oral hygiene. "Morning breath" is a common example of transient bad breath. Transient bad breath gradually disappears on its own, with the aid of chewing gum or brushing one's teeth so keep the gum close.

There are those unfortunate people who have chronic bad breath which is a more serious and persistent condition affecting up to 25% of the population in varying degrees. It can negatively impact the individual's personal and business relationships, leading to poor self-esteem and increased stress. This condition is usually caused by persistent overpopulation of certain types of oral bacteria, primarily streptococcus mutans, and requires specialized treatment. Xerostomia (dry mouth syndrome) will increase bad breath problems. In this case, the fire hose is more appropriate, but may affect the person's self esteem...a little.

Lastly, there is the problem my Pickled Liver friends will certainly need to make aware...Fetor hepaticus is a type of severely bad breath caused by chronic liver failure. It has been said to resemble the smell of a freshly opened corpse. Isn't that uplifting? Basically, if you drink like a fish and manage to actually pickle your liver, you will have extremely bad breath. I am not sure which is worst.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Keep a candy dish. I have found in all of my jobs, that when you keep a candy dish on your desk, you can actually use it to cover up certain people's breath. You end up getting the information you need from your foul mouthed friend, but you don't have to pass out in the process.

Everyone sooner or later ends up with bad breath. It may be morning breath, hangover breath, or a diagnosed chronic liver failure, but everyone ends up covering their mouth. If you do, ask for a mint.

Did you know...

More people use blue toothbrushes than red ones.

The key to getting great service the next time you visit an establishment is tipping. Sometimes, it is not necessarily the amount of the tip but the tip itself. For instance, whenever I have to actually see a bank teller (which is rare) I ask for gold and silver dollars. If you leave gold in your tip, they actually tell other wait staff and mostly think it is unique. The next time, they fight to have your table...that time, leave a two dollar bill in the tip mix. Contrary to popular belief, the two dollar bill is worth two dollars.

What brought me to talking about tipping? Not so long ago, the Mexican was explaining to me about not being able to get a seat at his wife's favorite restaurant because of the wait. I looked at him like he was crazy.

Me: Didn't they have a hostess?
Mexican: Yeah. Some little 16 year old.
Again looking at him like he is crazy I have to ask: Why didn't you drop her 10 bucks?
Mexican: Some 16 year old won't take 10 bucks.

It was at this time that the banker and I had to explain to the Mexican the art of moving up in line. Hostesses or hosts for my gender neutral friends take names and place you in a pecking order. The order goes something like this:

The best friend
The best friends family
The friend of a friends family
The really whiney person that stands right in front of the podium
The next person on the list of names.

But the trump card to all of that list is the one that provides cold hard cash. The is especially true for the barely surviving teen in desperate need of cash because she spent too much on the outfit to wear and the concert tickets and forgot she had to pay for parking at the concert crowd. Just try it sometime. You will surely find that the line gets incredibly short when you drop that bill on the other side of the podium. Isn't it worth 10 bucks to not have to wait in line?

And that's not all boys and girls! You see, she will do her best to seat you in the seating section of one of her friends. She will tell her friend that she was palmed a ten spot and your service will be impecable. I know this seems simple, but it amazed me how many people do not actually use this or even know this.

Tipping 101 states...10 percent to 20 percent. I tend to tip 20 percent if my table's order is right and we are never thirsty. I work down from there. About 1 percent for each oops. There are some people who will only tip 20 percent if they are on the receiving end of a lap dance. Whatever, these people are often working for "waitstaff" wages which is less than minimum plus tips. All you do by making it complicated for them is look stingy which means...you get the trainee.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Tip me! This service I just provided you was delivered for LESS than waitstaff wages. I write and I write to provide important and valuable information about flatulence, duct tape and tipping and you readers have not taken the time to send me the money I so richly deserve. I am reminding you that tipping is as important as what you put into your body.

This message has been brought to you by the Tipping Your N8ivWarrior committee.

Did you know...

The first video ever played on MTV Europe was "Money For Nothing" by Dire Straits.

Little did I know when I woke up this morning that I was part of a master plan devised by the kids...all of them...even the 3 year old. Apparently, they had colluded with one of the Queen's friends to throw a surprise birthday party since the Queen's birthday is Tuesday. Balloons were purchased, as were streamers, punch, gifts and everything.

Neither the Queen nor I knew anything about it. It wasn't until her friend decided to take the Queen to breakfast that made me suspicious.

The Queen wasn't 10 steps out of the house when the Party Depot exploded in my family room. Since I had not gotten her a gift, I decided that the festivities (in the theme of the ocean) need some food. So, while the kids did their magic, I headed to the grocery store.

To match up with the ocean theme (there is considerably more history about the ocean reasoning here) and because my wife was seriously missing the Mid-Altantic, I decided to go ahead and buy the Phillip's Crab Cakes.

For those of you who have no inkling as to the significance of the crab cake I will explain. When you live near the Chesapeake Bay or in Mid-Atlantic, the Maryland blue crab is considered a delicacy. In the resort town of Ocean City, Maryland, a small restaurant chain named Phillip's Crab House makes what many consider the best Maryland crab cake in the world. I am fortunate enough to have a grocery store that carries the frozen version.

I grabbed the crab cakes and a variety of other items and headed home much poorer than when I entered the store. I should not go to the grocery store hungry but that is an entirely different blog entry.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Happy Birthday my Queen! You are only as old as you want to be...and this year, you are 27 with 28 candles on the cake.

You see, the Queen for the past year has believed she is 28 years old. She is 27. After showing her through the new math (2006-1978=28) that she turns 28 this year, she had a bit of shock on her face. Dismissing that she had been wrong for an entire year, she informed me that since she MISSED her entire 27th year, that she would celebrate 27 this year and she will be 29 next year.

OK. It really doesn't matter. You are only as old as you feel.

Happy 27th Birthday my Queen!

Did you know...

According to the Guinness Book of World Records, "Happy Birthday to You" is the most popular song in the English language. The version as we know it was copyrighted in 1935 by the Summy Company as an arrangement by Preston Ware Orem, and is scheduled to expire in 2030. The company holding the copyright was purchased by Warner Chappell in 1990 for $15 million dollars, with the value of "Happy Birthday" estimated at $5 million. While the current copyright status of the song is unclear, Warner claims that unauthorized public performances of the song are technically illegal unless royalties are paid to them.

I know it has been a while since I last posted. I actually have plenty of post ideas, I have just been either on vacation, working (which they no longer allow me to post from work), or spending time with the Queen and kids.

I have discovered a few things in my time away from blogosphere. First, you find out that people actually read the dribble you write and actually wonder and ask why you haven't written an entry lately. Second, sleep is nice.

You see, I actually caught up on some sleep since I have been away. There were a couple nights a didn't fall asleep until around 1:30, but the majority of the vacation I fell to sleep rather easily. Have you ever noticed how people can manage to stay awake into the wee early morning hours when the Dunkin Donut guy goes to work, but you can't seem to keep your head up in meetings?

I live in meeting hell. I spend at least 75% of my work day in a meeting of some sort. Then, people complain because they have these unreal expectations that I am going to be able to have actual work completed by a certain date. I am finished with that.

Let's take yesterday... Yesterday, I spent 7 hours of my workday in meetings. What did I accomplish? Well, I nearly had the jaw drop and droolage during one meeting. I managed to prevent one of those nods moments from becoming a bloody nose during an afternoon meeting. During the last meeting when I knew I had absolutely no input on the conversation, I think I may have found a way to wear out silly putty (I carry it with me to keep from falling asleep).

I have actually fallen asleep before, but I blew it off in that Jack Nicholson voice saying "Are we actually going to talk about something that won't make me doze off?" The worst is when you are having a company meeting and the CEO is standing in front of you. No amount of silly putty in the world would help in those meetings.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Doesn't anybody wonder why American productivity is being impacted? Could it be because a great chunk of the workforce are in meetings? I understand the need for communications, but at what point is it a wash? At what point is it detrimental to hold a meeting? Who really needs a recurring meeting every day for an hour? So we really need to go over the same subject every day? Why can't they schedule meetings someplace you can stay awake?

I suggest that we hold all meetings in amusement parks or bars. I never seem to fall asleep when I am rocketing forward on a roller coaster from 0 to 128 mph in just under 4 seconds.

Did you know...

Six Flags Great Adventure "Kingda Ka" roller coaster is the tallest and fastest roller coaster. It stands 456 feet high and fires the riders off at 128 miles per hour.

I decided to go for a little drive. The Queen often complains about our little drives because we end up in other regions of the country. When we lived in Virginia, after having breakfast at Bob Evans, Avery and the Queen decided we should take a ride around Washington DC to take in the sites.

We drove out of DC on the Baltimore-Washington Parkway because it was pretty. Once we made it to the Delaware border she asked me "How far is New York City from here?"

My response was "Around 4 hours."

Well, we have nothing better to do...off to New York.

After entering Connecticut, we decided to make it a weekend excursion. Since we were without clothes, diapers and toiletries, we stopped at Target and bought everything. This trip ended us up in Portland, Maine. A very nice trip that we repeated with the remaining children later that same year.

Today, my little drive ends me up on Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. Yes, I always warned her I would take her to Canada. Last night, we packed up most of the family and headed North. There were some minor stops in St. Johns, Michigan (absolutely adorable) where I picked up my Father's day gift (Sirius Radio) and the Queen grabbed a barn full of yarn.

When we crossed the Mackinac Bridge, Shae proclaimed "Yeah! We made it to the Upper Pennsylvania." We took great joy in explaining to the 16 year old that the Upper Peninsula of Michigan is quite distant from Upper Pennsylvania. She laughed and just brushed it off stating that as long as we get to "Canadia," that is all that matters. I sometimes think she has my sense of humor and says these things just to test us.

We are going to take in the Soo Locks tomorrow and who knows what else. We tend to shoot from the hip on these things.

We are trying to decide on either Thunder Bay, Ontario on Saturday or taking a glass bottom boat ride in Munising, Michigan. I am sure many of you have absolutely no idea as to what could hold interest in either of the places...or Sault Ste. Marie. They are new to my family.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). There are treasures all over North America. Little hidden secrets of adventure, beauty and interest that you wouldn't expect just from the name. For me, living life does not mean I need to see the Eiffel Tower in Paris or Running with the Bulls in Pamplona.

For me, finding a gem like Magnetic Hill in Moncton, New Brunswick far outweighs Big Ben. Riding down Lombard Street in San Francisco on a scooter is much more exciting than I could imagine the Leaning Tower of Pisa being. My point is, look for the little things where you least expect them. Sometimes, they are more fun than the big ones.

I have assembled a few of my favorites:

1. Renting a motor scooter to cruise around San Francisco.
2. Ferrying to a day trip at Mackinac Island, Michigan.
3. The Old Post Office and the Canadian Embassy in Washington, DC. (The Old Post Office never has the wait of the Washington Monument and has a great view. The Canadian Embassy has an area by the street surrounded by water that creates a open-air sound-proof chamber.)
4. Lenny the Moose in Len Libby's Chocolates in Scarborough, Maine is great when you are with kids.

Did you know...

The day after President George W. Bush was reelected, Canada's main immigration website had 115,000 visitors. Before Bush's re-election, this site averaged about 20,000 visitors each day.

I am taking an emergency vacation. I called my boss and informed him I needed a vacation...right now. I really didn't give him a lot of choices. I thought the weekend may be enough to get my head back on straight but it doesn't appear to be the case.

What is my problem? I have lost my passion. It wasn't until I had a long discussion with my psychologist (the Queen) that I realized what my issue is. She is right though.

This is not the first time I have had to deal with this. Usually my self-healing practice is to take some time away from everyone. I will stare at the stars waiting for the signs. I will listen to the words of nature. I will smell the aroma of life. I will feel my guiding wind. For some reason, things are getting harder to digest.

I feel numb. The Queen thinks working on the new website will help. To be honest, I know what is missing. I just have no way of fixing it. This leaves me out of control of my own life...my own destiny. This means, I am living my nightmare. For a long time, I held onto my dreams of moving to Clinton and opening a bookstore. As time (a linear discussion) moves forward, I begin to wonder and doubt that this will ever come to fruition.

I tire from my job. I am weary of the future. I glance back at the past making sure not to dwell on it. I have a mission in my heart without the means to commit to it.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Take a break. People often take family vacations, vacations with friends, or just stay at home with family and friends.

Maybe, just maybe, if you took a vacation by yourself, you may find more than you expect...well-being.

Did you know...

Americans take an average of just ten days per year vacation. In France, the law guarantees everyone five weeks of vacation, and most full-time workers get two full months vacation.

I have been missing from the blogging world for a few days. My Queen has returned from Texas and we had to make up for lost time. I know, more than you all wanted to know. I am also out of sorts.

It started yesterday when I returned home. I greeted everyone and went to bed. I fell asleep at 7.

This morning I woke up, dressed, and went to work. Sometime around 1:30, I was so easily irritated, I figured it was better to leave before I duct taped someone to the ceiling.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). So, when I start feeling back to normal, I will post some proper blog entries.

Did you know...

Beethoven dipped his head in cold water before he composed.

This is my point and Did you know...

The Queen comes home today!

I am 5 feet 10 inches with an average build. I have average size hands with average size 10 shoes. I have the average american weight for my average height. I am average.

Tonight, while I was helping take out the trash, my neighbor across the street was also taking out the trash. I greeted him with my usual "Hey Joe!" I am not sure if his name is really Joe though. He walked up to me and had his hand out to shake.

Joe is a big man. He is a six foot three truck driver that looks as if he could lift a Cadillac. So as I reach for his hand, I fear he is going to crush it. His hand is massive. What does a guy of average size do when faced with a hand of Kong. First he thinks "don't hurt me" and then he learns to shake daintily.

What rational reasoning do I have to fear that this neighbor would want to power drive me into the mailbox? Is this a hidden fear? Am I insecure? Why do women think that big hands or big feet automatically indicates a large schmuck?

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Why aren't there myths or otherwise of women's feet in comparison to women's nether regions? Do we really know? I say, let's make one right here, right now.

Women with curly hair are best in bed. How about... big breasted babes blow balloons up better.

Basically, this is stupid. Feet and Hands have nothing to do with anatomical size. It is all about genetics. Some people have it, and some people don't.

The Queen has been out of town for 17 days. Can you tell?

Did you know...

Largest penis in the animal kingdom is 11 feet (blue whale).