Sometimes we fall in love with the dumbest people. A lot of them happen to be in law school. Some of them don’t even own cars, which surprises me. Some of them make more money than us. Some of them are just wastes of life with no redeemable value, and yet we tolerate their horrible attempts to love us. And don’t even get me started on Anquan Boldin.

Yep, it’s time for another sexbag. Ufford is sitting this one out, so come on up onto Uncle PUNTE’s lap and tell him what you want for Christmas. As long as it isn’t Dwayne Bowe, you should be good. And sincerest apologies for getting this up (hee hee) behind schedule. I tried to get in as many submissions as I could.

Let’s delve.

Dear [some theoretically witty but trite alliteration],
Way to effort there, guy.
Jumping right in…
First, the sexy time: The girlfriend and I have been fucking since before we started dating,
Then why the hell did you even start dating? Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?
but for one reason or another, until two weeks ago, we had never done the deed while intoxicated. Before, regular sex was good, no complaints. But the drunk romps have been nothing short of insane, by far the best sexual experiences of my life, and given her noise level, the speed with which she gets off, and her willingness to do…anything…I’d say that it’s been decent for her as well.
Drugs make everything better. Richard Pryor used to put cocaine on his dick because somebody told him that it would keep him hard all night. Kudos to you on your discovery (and your performances under the influence).
The problem is that now, sober sex just can’t measure up, and, as much as we’d like to be, we can’t be drunk all the time. It’s becoming an elephant in the room. Any ideas on how to maintain the magic without resulting to pounding a fifth of Jack every night?
Do you remember the Disney movie Dumbo? Dumbo basically gets this magic feather, which he uses to tickle prostitutes all over the western seaboard in order to coerce supermodels into having sex with him. But then he eventually loses the feather, and then Dumbo is like “Aw shit, dawg. Where my feather at?” But nobody knows, and then he gets gunned down by Cuban militants in his own house. I’m pretty sure that’s how it ended. I haven’t seen it in quite a few years.
But you get the idea: you can’t let the booze be a psychological crutch. Think about what specifically was changed when the beer goggles went on: was she more relaxed? Were you less hesitant? Does she have a puke fetish? Try to isolate one or two things that were improved by the sauce and dedicate some attention to those issues.
Or wait until the next time you two start fooling around, and then stick an ice cube in her pussy. Dead serious. Take a glass of ice water into the bedroom with you. Or plant it there beforehand. Either way. Then once you get her naked, pull the ice out and start rubbing it on her. You have to do this soon because fall is coming and eventually it’ll be colder than shit outside.
Do what you’d expect to see in a movie with the ice: rub it on her lips…her nips…around her bellybutton a couple times and then RUN FOR THE FUCKING BORDER. And don’t bob that shit, either. Pet her with it and then get the fuck out of there. Then mount your good lady and enjoy the sensation. No need to thank me. I’m here to help.
Second, fantasy: I have the Minny and Miami defenses.
Really? You got the Vikings AND another defense? Are you going to spot-start Minnesota? Are you just not sold on the NFC runner-up from last season?
Minny is clearly the better D
No shit. I just said that. In so many words.
but they’re at NO (#1 in total O last year), while Miami is at Buffalo (#30). Do I bench the Vikings in favor of the far, far more favorable match up?
Many thanks,
An alcoholic in the making
Obviously this advice is too late to help you (again, sorry) but really, if you’re going to draft a Top 5 defense, start them and ride them out. I say that knowing full well that, for this week, Miami’s D will probably fare better than the 14 points allowed and one sack that came from the Vikings D. But it’s a better long-term play, so keep that in mind come waiver time next week.
———-

Brothers in Brevity,

Fantasy:  Who do you start this week – Anquan Boldin (vs Jets) or Seattle’s Mike Williams (vs 49ers)?  I think my Seahawks fandom is clouding my view here.

Neither matchup is particularly stellar. I’m leaning toward Boldin, but only because I know so little about Mike Williams. All this time, I thought he played for Tampa Bay.

That’s a joke, people. Don’t email me.

Sex:  Just out of college, I’m a man that still likes to sleep around.  I’d (safely) find a new partner every night if the opportunity presented itself.

Join the fucking club, superstar. “I’d fuck a different girl every night” is like saying “I walk upright and have the ability to use tools.” You’re a guy. Of course you would. And of course you would do it (safely). How considerate!
I also live in a city of 40-50k people.  How long do I have until my reputation becomes a detriment to my goals?
CaliCheeseSucks
Really, it depends on how well you diversify. If you’re meeting people through church and community activities AND at the gym AND getting hits on an internet dating date, you’re going to last a lot longer than just sitting at the end of the bar at Buffalo Wild Wings like a creep. The downside of joining all of those clubs and groups is that it really cuts into your fuck time.
Enjoy plowing on in that cow town of yours. It’s not like women talk or anything.
———-

Good sirs, two questions I suspect may both be answered with some variation on the phrase “suck it up”. Here goes:

Football – 14-team league, just finished the draft, I was picking last.

Suck it up. SOMEBODY has to pick last!
I won this league last year, so I’m kinda stoked for it.
Oh. Well…good on ya. You probably should be picking last, then. AND THEREFORE SUCKING IT UP!
Sidney Rice already fucked me by waiting until I’d drafted him to reveal he was injured and wouldn’t be available for eight fucking weeks (not that I’m bitter),
Suck it up, you little bitter bastard.
and my drafting choices don’t inspire much confidence in me anyway. I figured I’d be able to grab the undrafted Knowshon Moreno as soon as the waivers opened and maybe at least have a decent set of running backs; however, I’ve just been told that rather than the waiver order being the draft order in reverse like I always thought was normal, it’s random instead. That’s annoying enough, but the person who picked #1 in the draft (taking Cop Speed) is also picking #1 in the waivers.

But there was only a 7 percent chance of that happening. I guess what I’m trying to say is…math is awesome. But yeah, that’s a stupid rule. Either start out waiver priority with the reverse draft order or use a waiver budget.

This smells like bullshit to me. Is that a fair thing to think or do I sound like I’m bitching about nothing?

Hey, I’m in favor of complaining about fantasy football all the time. And I encourage the owners in the two keeper leagues that I commission to complain to me as well. No rule or policy is too small to gripe about in a money league. EVER. Even if you don’t get your way, your bitching promotes transparency within the league and keeps your commish from getting too creative.
No, I’m with you on the waivers thing. That’s a shit rule. By the way, we seem to be experiencing some font turbulence. Please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened.
Sex – I’ve been with my girlfriend for about two months and lately, she’s talked about wanting to go out on dates rather than always just going back to hers, which is fair enough.
I think we, as men, all hit this wall at some point. One of us dates a girl, it goes well, we fuck and then we start fucking all the time. We go into this with the understanding (hopefully) that, at some point, the fucking all the time has to stop, or at least slow down, and that the original relationship dynamic returns. It’s just how it is.
This begs the question: if we know that fucking all the time time will eventually stop, should we, as men, be more proactive in restoring that more chivalrous tone (read: not trying to plow the lady whenever she walks in the door) to the relationship?
Hold that thought. We’re getting off track again.
My problem is that I’m currently out of work and I don’t have a whole lot of money – in contrast, she works in banking; I know how much she earns and it’s impressive.
Women in banking are always smoking hot. Unless they aren’t. So now I’m the one that’s impressed. Unless I’m not.

If she wants to go out regularly I’m not going to be able to do the typical man thing and pay for the lot – any tips on how to broach the subject with her? It’s a delicate thing, I don’t want to get into a fight about it, but clearly it’s a conversation I will have to have.
I had this conversation with a girl once. I was in college and she was working in IT and doing well for herself (she still lived with her parents, but that’s not part of the story). We used to go out to dinners every weekend and then have drinks at a bar afterward, or do a show or some other thing. It was pretty obvious to me after a couple of months that I was in a relationship that was economically unsustainable.
I really liked this girl. She met most of The Criteria and was easy to talk to. And fun in an irreverent sort of way that I always enjoy about women. So we sat down one day and I told her point-blank, “I can’t afford to date you.” Almost immediately, we scaled back the evening expenditures and found other, less expensive ways to spend our time. But she had really small tits and we eventually broke up anyway. True story.
Back to your situation: you could certainly be more tactful than I was. Even something as simple as suggesting cheaper places to eat would go a long way toward that sort of discussion. This would be a time to be candid, not to be macho. You might be surprised at how understanding she could be.
One tip for you, and please understand that I know so little about you that you could find this offensive: I would also demonstrate to her, in passing, that you’re working your ass off to find another job. Get the idea out there that you’re remaining vigilant and not some hapless loser. I know it’s brutal out there right now, but you don’t want to have a talk about being broke if she sees you sitting around playing XBox Live all day. Like I said, I know nothing about you and really am unfamiliar with your situation, but I felt like that warranted mentioning. Good luck.
———
Two quick ones here, mainly just looking for a recommendation rather than a long drawn out story, also if you can manage to answer these today (Thursday) I will be able to use your advice immediately!
You’ll have to settle for today (Friday). Again…sorry.
Sex – Met a girl a few weeks back and looking to meet up soon, I’ve asked her to join me and some friends (girls and guys) for after work drinks tomorrow which seems like a good idea. This way if things are going well I can spend longer with her, if not so well I can just tell her I have to be somewhere, plus its a nice relaxed environment.
What do you think?
I think that’s prudent as all hell, sir. Plus you’re also providing her an embarrassment-free escape plan as well. That’s solid pre-first-date game planning.
Football – Managed to snag some pretty good receivers in a league where you start three. Locked to start both Colston and Nicks in week 1, but who should I go with from Mike Wallace (ATL, no Big Ben) or Malcolm Floyd (@KC, no VJax) ?
- Nino Brown
I’m totally gay for Floyd here. The AFC West is a shithole in terms of passing defense. You’re heading into Week 1 with a fine receiving corps. I’m also high on Wallace this season, but I wouldn’t start him over Floyd in this spot.
———-

Dear Caveman among men,

Whatever.

Fantasy first: Quick pre-season trade question: I went Andre 9th overall in my 12-team PPR league, and somehow Drew Brees was waiting for me in the second. I snagged him, but, of course, my RB core is less than stellar (Jamaal Charles and Jonathan Stewart).

That’s really not bad. Most of us aren’t going to get that elusive stud back in the first four (or five picks). Andre Johnson is a great value at No. 9 and you HAVE to take Brees with that 2nd-rounder. And since I’m really high on Jamaaaaal this year, I think you’ve rounded out your starting lineup nicely.

A Saints homer offers me a trade of Matt Schaub, Ray Rice and Mike Wallace for Brees, Stewart and Derrick Mason. I take this right? The upgrade at RB (and at my No. 3 WR) more than makes up for the drop at QB right?

If you’re comfortable with keeping two starters from the same team, you make that deal. Schaub has a lot of upside, which is saying a lot for a guy that threw for 4700 yards last season. Same with Wallace, who’s set to surpass Hines Ward as the Steelers’ No.  1 passing option. And forget everything I said about not having that premiere back, because you just got him, assuming that this trade doesn’t get shot down by your fellow owners.

Sex: Not so much a question of sex as it is how do I get sexy?

There are no shortcuts to sexy. Unless you use a lot of duct tape and mesh, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

I was always a little pudgey and while tall (6?2?), I never was that fit (hovered around 230-240 lbs since HS). I got tired of that shit and decided to whip my ass into shape. Now around 185 (thanks to P90X), but after 5 months of those workouts I’m lean, but not building much muscle. I increase my weight and go to failure, but while dieting I limited myself to 1500 calories and under each day. Do I have to double my calorie (protein) intake in order to see muscle growth?

Sincerely,

The Last (Original) Texans Fan

I’m not an expert on this, but my cursory research over the years tells me that you won’t build muscle by dieting. Muscles need fuel, and since you’re exerting more daily effort than the average bear, you really should be increasing your caloric intake. If you’re lifting in the mornings, consume protein within 30 minutes of finishing your workout. I like eggs here. Crack an egg open in a bowl and microwave it for 45 seconds. Scrape it out and slap it on a bagel. Bam. You just made a badass breakfast treat that you can scarf down on the way to work.

And consult your doctor, so that in the unlikely event that you die during a workout, it’ll be his fault.

———-

Gentlemen,
Football:  I got a two-fer: better starter at QB: Flacco @ NYJ or Henne @ Bills?
I really loathe Chad Henne as a fantasy option this year; he really seems to have snuck up to second-tier status in a lot of leagues this year, and I’m kinda baffled by that. Even though Flacco’s playing the best defense in the AFC, I’d rather go with someone who has proven that he can produce. Feel free to chastise me on Monday for this.
And better for flex: Berrian @ NO, Steve Smith (Giants version) vs. Panthers, Jonathan Stewart @ NYG or Dwayne Bowe vs. Chargers?
Ugh. I like Dwayne Bowe, just because the pass defense in the AFC West is so awful on defense. That’s the difference-maker for me.
Sex: This is less about having sex, and more about not having sex (surprise!).  I recently began a new medication that, while very effective for what it is supposed to do, has some nasty side effects skin-wise, namely severe acne.
HOT.

If I can’t get a handle on it, I’m prepared to switch meds if necessary, but in the meantime I am in line to see a dermatologist in the hopes we’ll be able to fix it.  Until that happens, though, I’d like the women I meet to not think that I just hit puberty at 30.
Depending on the age of woman that you’re pursuing, that may not be such a bad thing.
I know women have all sorts of tricks for covering blemishes, but what do guys do?  I know literally nothing about cosmetic anything.  To me, “makeup” is just a kind of sex, and “salon” is just a website I refuse to read.
Sign me,
Full of Wideouts and Breakouts
I had horrible acne as a teenager and still sport some pock marks as after-effects from that. And then of course, once that cleared up, my hair started falling out. Thanks, God! Asshole.
There are treatments out there, from over-the-counter face washes to prescription-strength medication (I know, I know. Just what you wanted: another pill).  My old tricks: going to the tanning bed, drinking lots of water, face wash, never going out. Info from more knowledgeable folks can be found here. And you could try this also.
———-

Dear Purveyor of Poon and Pigskin Advice,
First the football question:
My league’s competitive, 12 teams and standard Yahoo scoring (4 pts passing TD).  The only glaring and absolutely retarded outlying setting is the fact that the league commish has set the flex position to include QB’s (Q/W/R/T).
I’m not a big fan of this unless it’s an intentional “gimmick” league. It’s like starting two goalies in hockey. Real hockey, not fantasy hockey. Fantasy hockey is just nuts.
Since I’m fairly new, it’s a work league, and the commish is much older than me, I didn’t make a big deal out of it and instead chose to take full unfair advantage of it by drafting Rodgers (7th pick) and Peyton with my first two picks.
Well done.
I guess no one noticed/cared in the draft but now that it’s over and my projected point total projects domination over the commish in my week 1 matchup, people are starting to either A) complain or B) offer me trades for one of my QBs.
Fuck them. No, no. FUCK THEM HARD.
My WR unit suffered more than a bit due to my strategy (Maclin, Dez, Breaston, Berrian) so my question is should I try to deal one of my QB’s for a stud wideout and decent 2nd player, or take my 50 points per week from my Q’s and roll with that?  Oh, and Jamaal Charles and Knowshon at RB, Dallas Clark at TE in case that factors in.
You’re in great shape. I really like Dez Bryant and Berrian right now, and Maclin has demonstrated some value in fantasy this year (his ADP of 63.8 really surprised me). No, you keep your two quarterbacks and you bury those little bitches into the dirt. It’s their just dessert for (a) running a league where two quarterbacks could start, and (b) not being smart enough to draft QB-QB as you did. Enjoy your parade of carnage.
And now for the relationship advice:
I’ve been dating a girl since May and it’s gotten pretty serious.  She lives about an hour away
Strike one.
and she doesn’t have a car
Strike two.
so at times it’s been tough but we’ve managed to spend every weekend together minus a stripper-filled bachelor party weekend in Montreal. (side note: Seriously consider this little gem in the magical Land of Canadia for your next bro trip or bachelor party.  Fun, young, clean city.  All nude, no touching-limitation lapdances at every club we hit for no more than $15 each, model-quality girls, none of the shitty tats and blatant drug addictions you’ll find with any stripper on the east coast.)
/books one-way flight to Montreal.
Anyway, everything was going great up until about two weeks ago.
You consider making two-hour round trips to see somebody to be great?
Sorry, I’ll shut up.
She told me on more than one occasion that she was really happy. But the last two weekends she’s been quiet and reluctant to have sex.  Last weekend she finally drops the bomb on me and says that she’s stressed out from law school starting again and doesn’t know if she can handle school and me at the same time.
It’s the dreaded law school-long distance boyfriend double penetration. “Can she handle two loads at once?” Seriously, Diablo Cody needs to write this up yesterday.
She has admitted that I’ve done nothing wrong and says she has to decide what she wants to do.
This is why we’ll never have a female president. Thinking is a strenuous activity for them. That is, if that’s what she’s truly doing. Sounds to me like her mind is made up, and having a guy show up shovel-ready on her doorstep every weekend isn’t good enough for her.
I really care for her and don’t want to lose her.  So naturally, I decided to break up with her.  I told her to take some time to get her head straight and then get back to me.  Treat a girl like dirt and she’ll stick to you like mud right?  Where should I go from here?  I think it got too serious for her too quickly since we were forced into a situation where we had to spend long weekends together due to the distance, her lack of transportation, and my 9-5 work schedule.
Much appreciated,
[redacted]
Here’s my gripe about the car (keep in mind that I’m from the midwest, where everyone drives to get places and public transportation is the bane of even medium-sized cities.  It’s not logic that applies uniformly to everyone):  If she doesn’t drive, it’s really difficult to get a barometer of how she feels about you. The phrase “meeting you halfway” could not ring more truly here, as you’ve been the one making all the effort to keep this thing going.
I have no problem with the breakup. Women that “need time to think” have, in my experience, already made up their minds. They’re just running through a checklist of places to hide the bodies. Something wasn’t working for her, and you alluded to the fact that you guys were basically spending your entire weekends with each other like some drawn-out conjugal prison visit. That’s fine if you’re visiting an established partner or engaging in a 15-hour fuckfest, but for most of us, it can become a drag.
She won’t be getting back to you. You already know this. What you’ll need to decide is whether you want to call her in hopes of making more long drives to watch her study up on statutory torts. This is another no-brainer. You’re back in the pond, bro.
If you’re working nine to five, focus your future mate search toward somebody else that works nine to five, and preferably lives in your neck of the woods. Oh, and on that first meeting? Make her drive.
———-

Hola.

Fantasy Football: This is my first year playing fantasy, and I made the dumbass mistake of drafting Santonio Holmes AND Vincent Jackson (both for my bench, but still…). Should I hang on to them or try to pawn them off on one of the other players in my league so that I can have another receiver who will produce before week 7?

I wouldn’t fault you for hanging onto one of them. Vincent Jackson will almost certainly be traded, while Santonio might be the best wide receiver on a team with a barely-above-average quarterback.  See if you can get anything for Holmes, and hope that VJ finds himself in a better spot.

Sex: I have a roommate who I have dated in the past (within the last year or so). When we moved in, we bothmade it clear that we were just friends and were okay with that.

I wonder where this is going.

However, she’s acted very jealous and upset the few times I’ve been fortunate enough to bring a girl home. I’ve talked her about it, but when confronted she’s acted like nothing is wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a relief, because I feel like I’ve noticed a change in your mood over the last several seconds. You seem upset, as if something is bothering you, perhaps something that I have done. However, since you’ve verified personally that no such issue exists, I feel free to blast my Rod Stewart Greatest Hits album and dance around in my sombrero. By the way, what’s for dinner?”

I can’t really say anything. I do it, too.

She’s also threatened to move out because I ”party too much” (I work 5 days a week and only stay out late on Friday and Saturday nights, which seems reasonable to me).

“Maybe YOU are partying too little!”

While I realize it was really (REALLY) stupid to make a roomie out of an ex (it wasn’t a super-serious relationship,but we were definitely exclusive), what should I do? I don’t want to be stuck with double the rent, but I also don’t want to live with a jealous ex.

Let me chastise you one more time for moving in with a woman that you weren’t boning. It’s a trueKobayashi Maru. I’ve never had the capability of being friends with an ex. If you’re a woman and I’m not dating you or married to you, then you don’t exist. Unless you have a really nice ass.

But enough of my foot up your ass. What I really want to know is, “What was she thinking?” Could this have been some sort of plot to get back together with you? This doesn’t sound like someone who fluently says what she means. I question her motivation on that. While you may have become comfortable with the distance between you in this modified relationship, it’s pretty clear that she isn’t.

I don’t think a little proactive damage control is out of the question. You have to get her to talk about about what’s bugging her and, ultimately, make a decision on whether or not your current arrangement is feasible going forward. You’ll have to either placate her to some degree or start looking for another apartment. Sounds a lot like having an actual girlfriend, doesn’t it? Lesson learned.

———-

Gentlemen,

No fantasy football question since I’m just about the only guy in North America (greetings from the Great White North) that doesn’t play.

Fuck you, then.

I’m a 27-year old that left a fairly good career to return to law school last year.  The catch is that I did this with the full support of my wife.  Not only did she want me to pursue law (something I’ve always wanted to do), but she was even cool with me moving two hours away to attend a better school that the one in our hometown.  Long and short, she’s about as fantastic as a wife can be.  Moreover, she’s battling cancer and current under going chemotherapy.

/retracts earlier “Fuck you”

So here’s the catch.

Wait…what catch? Your wife getting cancer wasn’t the catch? The woman who supported your dreams and is actually dying right now? That was just part of the buildup? Really?

At law school I met another woman that, in my books, is just about as perfect as it gets.

Perfect? What kind of cancer does SHE have?

I’m definitely not the wandering eye type

Bullshit.

and sure as shit didn’t foresee developing major league thoughts for someone else.

You’re either clueless or lying through your teeth. Either way, you’ll be a GREAT Canadian lawyer!

That fact almost makes things harder;

Objection. That was not a fact. That was bunk.

I know that my feelings for the new lass are 100% legit, it’s not just some need for more than one person to get with.

/reinstates original “Fuck you”

//charges interest

Nothing’s happened, though I’m fairly certain that it could if I forced the issue – as of now myself and the law school girl as just friends.
Just friends. Friends that would probably fuck if you were any less benevolent. Uh huh.
My problem is that I know how everything needs to be – my job is to be a supportive husband to a woman that I still love one hell of a lot.  The trick is getting the other girl out of my head, which has proven way the fuck tougher than I ever would have imagined.  Any suggestions?
I’m gonna try to be sympathetic here. You’re not the first guy that’s had the urge to fuck around on his wife while she was battling cancer. Which is really kind of a silly term for it. Nobody grabs armor and a sword and charges over the hill to “battle” cancer. You just take a bunch of medicine and then hope that you don’t die.
I’d really love to just rip you another asshole right now, because this email on its face is pretty pathetic. You feel obligated to your wife. You’re not there out of love. You’re there because you feel like you’re supposed to be there. It doesn’t sound like caring for her is a big priority for you right now.
Just fuck that girl and get it over with. If your wife is dying of cancer and your thoughts  are with another woman, then her pussy must be amazing. Maybe you could dip your fingers in it like the River of Stix and deliver its magical powers to your dying wife. It already sounds better than whatever health care you guys have up in Canada.
In closing, fuck you again. Fuck you again so very hard.

———-

Greetings, Cap’n,

Whatevs.

No fantasy question, because I am dreadful and no longer want to sacrifice my dollars for the joy of relentless mockery. I’m easily mockable, no need to pay, thanks.

You don’t even play in the free leagues anymore? EXCUSE ME WHILE I LADLE YOU AN EXTRA SPOONFUL OF MOCKERY!

This is not a sex question. It’s not a love question. It’s a marriage question, and really a deluded husband question.

Awesome.

And yes, I’ll stipulate that I know that you are not a professional counselor. Your advice is sound. I need a reality check, and well, you’re it. Sorry.

Actually, this will be a substitute reality check. Which is like a reality check that lets everyone talk during class. But I’ll see what we can do.

My wife left last week to take a new job 1,600 miles from what was our home. It’s probably more accurate to say she left me, as accompanying her on the excursion is her “friend” who, in his words, “wants to look at everything they do as if they are a couple.” This vulture is eight years younger than her and ten years younger than me (I’m thirty-five in seven weeks). He personifies my worst qualities when I was 24 including self-centeredness, a lack of personal accountability and responsibility, and an obsessive infatuation that he calls love.

Or what I call “Mashin’ Dem Guts.”

Sorry.

I’ll admit I have not been a saint in our marriage. Far from it, but I worked hard to fix my mistakes, to grow and to do everything I could to take care of her. Still, even if she hadn’t gone with him, she wasn’t going with me, for financial (we’re in debt to our eyeballs and I don’t have a job 1,600 miles away) and relationship reasons (she feels the need to take care of herself rather than rely on my ability and desire to provide for her). I applaud her desire to gain mastery over basic life skills, but I don’t see why she can’t be more assertive and take a more active role in household management. It’s not like I haven’t asked her to do that. I have. Often. But she never had the time.

I’m trying to be helpful, but I have no idea what you just said.

I discovered in May that part of the reason she was lacking time, likely the entire reason, is the time she was spending with her “friend.” Based on both cell and landline records her talk time totaled over 10,000 minutes or 168 hours in a 31 day period. One 24/7 week out of a full 31 day month.

Or four complete 8-hour work weeks. In a month. That. Is. Insane.

Her obsessiveness cost her the job she had here and strained our marriage to the point that I twice attempted threw her out only to take her back, because I’m a pussy who really doesn’t want to be without her.

I have Allen Iverson on Line 1.

The first time I threw her out, she had an anxiety attack so bad that she ended up in the emergency room (I brought her). My In-laws, her therapist and one of her closest friends (none of her other friends know what she’s been doing, she basically cut them out of her life, at his behest) agree with me that she is making a colossal mistake bringing this guy, because he’s such a winner.

Oh?

He doesn’t work. He borrowed money from her, even though he was living rent free with family friends and despite the favor his father called in to get him a job that he quit before he started. The only money he is contributing to their venture was had by selling his car to his father, for a whopping $500.

An entire car?

Further, it’s not likely he’s going to find work in a part of the country with crappy public transit. She even picks up the check (with money I earn) when they go out for dinner; it’s like whiskey-tango-foxtrot.

How have you not murdered this guy? Seriously. Okay, not seriously, but…seriously.

I work 50-55 hours a week and endure a commute that exceeds 4 hours a day via public transit so I can be exhausted and have my money spent on their good time. Anyway, sob story over.

But look at all the money you’ve saved by not playing fantasy football!

I think she’s experiencing a mid-life crisis. She’s hasn’t acted like this in seven years or so.

So this is her second mid-life crisis? I’m pretty sure you can only have one of those…

Honestly, it feels like she’s addicted to the drama of dating an immature man that she fights with incessantly, which not for nothing, is precisely what we did at the beginning of our fouled up relationship.

Hey, if it works for her…

(I know, bitches be crazy)

It takes two to tango, boss.

I honestly can’t imagine realizing my hopes and dreams with anyone other than her.

“Darling, I could never drive another woman to the emergency room after cheating on me with a total loser!”

I don’t want to sacrifice a decade of marriage over her basically losing it. I don’t believe that you can back out of commitments because it gets tough. You suck it up

Someone has been paying attention! Suck it up!

figure it out, then work it out. But am I delusional for thinking she might someday want to make our marriage work given this steaming pile of excrement she just deposited on it? I await your (likely one-word) answer below.

Horseradish.

That wasn’t the word you were expecting, was it?

PS sorry this is longer than Logan Mankins’ beard and holdout combined.

You should feel lucky that I’m doing the ‘bag this week, because Ufford would have killed you for writing such a long email!

Okay. Jokes over. But yeah, it’s time to move on, and you need to acknowledge that she’s a sinking stone around your neck. Your wife is not dying of cancer; she’s not in a depressive state where she needs the support of her loved ones. Your wife is a crazy bitch who either can’t see the consequences of her actions. Or she chooses not to.

And the fact that she’s spending YOUR money is…well, it just spits in the face of everything that men stand for, doesn’t it? All this time, you’ve been building a life that she hasn’t had any interest in occupying with you. You’ve made an effort, and ask same from her, only to come up empty. It’s clear that you really care for this woman, this bitch that seems content to just gut your marriage from the inside out. It’s also clear that she doesn’t give a shit about you. At all. You wrote that you couldn’t imagine pursuing your life’s ambitions without her. I’m sorry to say that this is exactly what you’ve been doing the whole time.

Actions speak louder than words, and the act of driving halfway across the country with some kid bears a pretty clear message: Adios. A fucking “Adios” sign hanging in Times Square, blinking, with one of those news crawls scrolling underneath it. CRAZY BITCH LEAVES LOYAL HUSBAND FOR WORLD’S WORST CAR SALESMAN. You could wait by the doorstep in hopes that she’ll come back, that she’ll do it out of love for you and not out of insufficient funds. You could grind your life to a halt so that it matches the pace of hers. But we both know that would be really fucking stupid.

You wrote that you couldn’t imagine pursuing your life’s ambitions without her. It’s time to start. There’s probably some war allegory in here about how your troops are fighting an unwinnable war or some shit. How the other army has run off with a younger, less responsible army that can’t hold down a job for shit. But that’s what it is. What’s the point of continuing this when the best you can hope for is that the crazy bitch comes back?!

It’s time to withdraw. More importantly, it’s time to admit defeat. To acknowledge that this woman took a toll on not only her life, but yours as well. Godspeed, sir. Withdraw. Regroup. Live to fight another day. Live to bone chicks another day. They’re out there someplace. Maybe one of them can find a good deal on a used car.