Advice Column: Get It Together Soldier

I need some damn advice. I got married last August to an awesome woman and immediately after getting married I got deployed to Iraq. Everything was fantastic while I was deployed, all the way up until I got back to states and we got a house together. Things changed somehow when we got back, almost as if that spark and warmth wasn't there, now bare with me I'm not trying to get all fuckin emo, but I love this woman to death and she has recently confronted me about how I don't take my time on her even when it comes to sex and if the shit don't change she's gonna leave me. Honestly, since I came back from Iraq I've almost become this lazy and less passionate person towards everybody. The last thing I wanna do is lose wife because I've been a piece shit. So if u will.... one of genius mother fuckers over there give me some sort of direction, advice, fuck something! Cause I need help.




Dear No More Bombs over Baghdad,

I hear you wanted me to specifically answer this romantically query. Thanks for that, dude. The thing about me and my advice is that it is a little like anal sex; if you force it, it is not really fun for anyone and is more painful for the receiver than the giver. So, sorry that it took me so long to respond. I have been going back and forth with your sitch in my brain and I have metaphorically lubed up my mind, so that my thoughtsicles slip right out with an ever so delicate 'pop' (you know the sound you make when you put your forefinger in your mouth and make that pop noise) and into your eyeballs for you to do whatever you will with my advice.

Saddle up, buckeroo, you are in for a ride.

So you love your girl "to death?" I am not even going to get into how loving someone to death is the most goddamn retarded thing you can say about your affection for someone. You love someone so much you literally want to smother them with a pillow? Nice, Buffalo Bill. You gonna make a vest with tits when you are done "loving me to death?" And now I am off track. Fuck cat. OK, back to advice. You love your girl a whole lot, but ever since you got back from Iraq, you are having a hard time playing house? You take her for granted, you are a shitty husband and all that marriage meow meow which reminds me of why I am so happily single?

Welcome to fucking marriage! I guess no one explained to you that when you get married, no matter how long you were together prior to getting married, that little piece of paper DOES change shit. Real Talk. I know this to be the gospel from my fingers to your eyes, because I actually have friends who subscribe to the philosophy that the institution of marriage is a wonderful thing and people should do it for love and it is a forever bond, and now I am bored I am bored, again. But seriously, one of my oldest and dearest friends and her hubby have been together since basically the land before time and married for less years then they were not married. You following what I'm casting out here? Even though they had been together since before the Rolling Stones were a band, when they got married SHIT CHANGED. They lived in the same house, went to the same jobs, drove the same cars and took shits at precisely the same times everyday, but something changed when they went from being engaged to married. As I am not a) married b) a college graduate or c) a therapist, I cannot say for certain what changed, but something changed. I know this because, uh oh yeah...bitches talk to each other about this shit. Especially if they have been friends since before they got periods.

Oh, hey remember that part where you said you went to war? Yeah, I didn't forget that, either. You went to fucking war! Have I said thank you for that? THANK YOU! And that is the mother licking realest talk ever. READERS: I don't care what side of the political spectrum someone is on; when you see or talk to a vet, you had best say thank you or I will personally open-hand slap you for being disrespectful to someone who willingly gave up their freedom, so I can sit here in my underwear and Dave Matthews Band T-Shirt, and type nonsense to fill the minutes of our mundane days. I am done being all white girl Al Sharpton and preaching, but I take service in any branch of the armed services serious, so don't let me find out you didn't keep it 100 when you were talking to a member of said armed services.

Back to you Brokedick Mountain, I don't care if you are the hardest mother fucker this side of Mr T. and The Rock having a baby, and that baby is you. Another thing I have never done is go to war, but once again, I have friends that have, and from what they told me, war is in fact, hell. I am sure you saw some shit over there that you can't un-see and did some things that might still wake you up at night, pissing the bed. The fact that you came back and can see that you are kinda fucking up your marriage is what is keeping me from tearing you a new one and calling you a bitch ass, trick ass, mark ass, candy ass, bitch boy who needs to get his ass kicked and his wife fucked, by me and the whole crew. Also, I may or may not be afraid of you coming to kill me for talking too much shit as I am wanting to do.

I am thinking that you may have left your mojo in Iraq. Since I don't have enough frequent flyer miles to give to you to go back and find your groove, Stella, I am going to have to hope you can channel some of the inner freak and part-time romantic (if you tell anyone I have a heart that actually beats blood I will pull your eyeballs out and make you look at your own skull, ba-leed dat!) that I have inside me, like some shit from Ghost or something. I don't know where I am really going with this, but follow me down this yellow brick road and hopefully when we get to the Land of Oz, the Wizard can give me a brain and you some mojo.

First off, you might want to get some counseling for PTSD. That is some real ass shit and not something to fuck with. It can fry your brain like a short order cook at Denny's does eggs. It can make you think something is purple when you know for a fact it is a waffle. You are going to need to get your head right before you can get right with your girl. If she is the awesome ass girl you say she is, she is going to fight for this marriage like you fought for us in Iraq. You might have checked out because you came back from war with some crossed wires and what not, but where the fuck is her sensitivity chip when it comes to what you have been through? I might have to pay her a visit and tell her she needs to lock it the fuck up and treat her solider with a little fucking respect. Ya heard?

Whilst you are heading my advice to go see the lay down doctor, you need to also start trying to make an effort to correct the things that you feel you are capable of working on at this time. This shit didn't happen to you over night, so it isn't going to get undone over night. Make her a nice dinner, throw on a little Barry White, pop open your nicest bottle of Asti Spumante and TRY to be a human and not the war-robot you have become. A few days later, try cleaning the house or doing something to show her you appreciate her and all that she sacrificed when you were gone. And I get that she sacrificed, too. Don't think that this is all about sexing her up, either. Yes, she is complaining about physical intimacy and that you seem to have checked out, but most of the time when someone checks out during sex it is a result of the culmination of other issues that have been building. This is about creating a foundation in which will help your marriage blossom, not just a 14 hour tantric sex session that would make Sting envious. Remember how you went to Basic Training when you joined whatever branch you joined? You need to take your ass back to Marriage Bootcamp and get right, before you get left, mother fucker.

Start doing drills, getting up early and fighting for you marriage like you fought for this country. And remember, sometimes you lose the battle, but if you keep fighting, you just might win the goddamn war.

Normally, I would close with a BOOM, but as that might cause more PTSD for you, I am just going to KAPLOW, like an old comic book.

Y'all come back now, ya hear?

H-Bomb