Joey Porter’s advice column

Kinda like Dear Abby... but more likely to break one of your bones, just to hear the snapping sound.

Steelers linebacker Joey Porter takes time out of his busy Super Bowl week to debut has brand new advice column. I’m happy to carry it here on themightymjd.com…


Dear Joey,

Joey, I’m desperate and I need your help. I think my husband might be cheating on me. Do you think I should confront him?

Signed,
Fed Up in Flint

Dear Fed Up:

Confront him? Girl, you need to get PHYSICAL. What you gonna do, go cryin’ to your man, like ‘Awww, I think you’re being unfaithful, Waaah, and it makes me feel sad.’ Fuck all that, girl. Get yourself a shovel, wait for him in the garage, and when he comes home and steps out of that car, BOOM. Go upside that man’s HEAD.

Of course, if you ain’t a good wife, you need to keep your mouth shut, you know? Not just anyone can be talkin’ shit. So unless you have dinner ready for him on the table every night and you’re givin’ up that ass whenever he wants it, you need to keep that mouth shut. Because if you start saying shit he doesn’t like, and you haven’t been to two or three Pro Bowls, he has every right to put on a pair of brass knucks and bust you in your grillpiece.

Best of luck,
Joey


Dear Joey,

Hey, what’s up, I’m a huge Steelers fan. Best of luck on Sunday. Here’s my question: There’s this girl at school who I kinda like and I think she likes me too, but I can’t tell. Like, sometimes she’ll smile at me, and sometimes she pretends I’m not even there. It confuses me.

Signed,
Smitten in San Jose

Dear Smitten,

I can’t STAND that bitch, playin’ all those games like that. If she likes you, she needs to step and tell you she’s down for you, you know? But all those games and smilin’ and winkin’, that bitch reminds me of Peyton Manning. Here’s what I think you should do: Blitz that triflin’ ho from the weak side, and put the crown of your helmet right into her motherfuckin’ sternum and drop her like Ali did Liston. ARRRGH.

And then get up and kick the air, just to let the rest of them hoes know where you stand.

Best of luck,
Joey


Dear Joey,

I think the Seahawks might win Sunday.

Signed,
Seahawks Fan in – Well, there’s no way I’m telling you where I live.

Dear Seahawks Fan,

I’MMA KILL YOU, MOTHERFUCKER. YOU HEAR ME? I will take a sledgehammer to your FACE. I’m gonna FIND where you live. You can’t hide from me. I’m gonna have your letter fingerprinted, and I’m going to track you down AND MURDER YOUR ENTIRE FUCKING FAMILY, YOU DIRTY RAT-SOUP EATIN’ MOTHERFUCKER. Don’t go to sleep, punk son of a bitch. You hear me? DO NOT GO TO SLEEP. Because the second you do, I’m going to wake your mama up and make her watch me stab you to death with a pair of left-handed scissors. I suggest you make peace with God. You are going to DIE.

Best of luck,
Joey


Dear Joey,

I’m a pretty nervous person, and I sometimes have trouble relaxing. How do you unwind during the off-season?

Signed,
Tense in Tempe

Dear Tense,

Mainly, I just walk around the malls in Pittsburgh, and anyone who doesn’t ask me for my autograph, I kill.

Best of luck,
Joey

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