The start of the NFL season puts me at the end of a tunnel looking for a light, wishing that it were a train that will run me over. I shouldn’t say that. My kids need me.

Last Thursday Mom was coming over to use my computer. Thank God she got an ear infection and she missed Brad cursing at the TV, the players, the low alcohol content of beer, the Wi-Fi connection, some coaches, pants in general, all referees… It was all complaining and anger and conspiracy and injustice, and the game had not started! During a commercial, I told him I was thinking about dyeing my hair black with gold highlights; he called me a treacherous harlot. If I ever hear him complain again about me having gray roots, I’m spiking his Oban with Ex Lax.

I didn’t tell Mom of course; she’d just chide me for always being negative. Then she would wonder how marvelous it would be having a husband with an opinion about one’s appearance. I told my friends over drinks—boy that was heartening! The divorced ones told me to count my blessings and the married ones told me to get over it because men are effing pigs. That’s my closest circle, and they won’t let me vent. They make it about themselves and then get angry, at me, because I don’t appreciate their dumb bromides.

Well no more. It’s time for action. I’m taking this to the Internet.

I decided to share my experiences hoping that ignored wives, girlfriends, and squeezes realize You Are Not Alone. Not only women; everyone who’s had solitude forced upon by the NFL season and is witness to the degradation of whom once was a soulmate or sexual consoler. Listen, I know what I’m talking about. Leafing through my old Queer Studies textbooks has been a fall tradition since 2003, when Brad became an NFL fan.

But mostly we’ll be talking about men. Men are not animals. They are robots whose decency software is overridden by the NFL season. Some games will get boring for a fan; but gametime always, without fail, results in unfathomable boorishness and utter sloth before and after the siren sounds at 0:00. On Sunday Brad took off a sock, used it for a napkin (nachos), and then went full Chili Peppers because of something about his fantasy team. Chimps, however, have been observed to feel shame. Some even wipe.

But enough about me for now. This is about intractable problems during the NFL season involving your other’s hygiene, impotence, and substance abuse. And gambling; they show ads for fantasy football sites, but I see portable bookies. I can’t offer solutions, but here we can establish an exchange of proven, practical measures. I wish someone had told me that trying to make your husband jealous at a sports bar will debase you in at least three different ways.

So I’ll field your questions. Since I just started, there are only a few:

@deezgronknuts

YO @Widow_NFL IM in a pPR leag& got offerd Foles for Dez straitup.trade?

I do not understand those “words” and you are the enemy.

Dear NFL Widow:  

Ever since the three days before his draft began for countless hours since, my husband has started to leave a distinct impression of his buttocks in the faux suede.  Should I keep trying to fluff it, flip the cushions, or simply consider this a martyr for the 2015 season?
Thanks for your advice,

Cleanly in Cleveland

PS–there could be sweat stains around the ass marks…

CC, you say sweat, but I’m going to guess there’s some vomit there as well. Typical. Leave the ass side up when he sits there; flip it otherwise. Stains from fluids other than sweat may prompt your nosy neighbor to call Family Services on you. Actually, you know what CC? Make HIM flip it. You earned that one.

Hi [REDACTED] . I know how upset you wree last nite but I meant well when I said that you might wanna try taking an interest in football. Please don’t tell [HUSBAND], but there are some hot players in every team! VEEERRRY HOOOTTTTT!!!!! 😯 😆 I like the linemen they sem nasty.cmon even if you don’t understand the game you can enjoy it #standbyurman See you next Tuesday!!

Listen Angela Judith Tort-Vicario, who works at a Women’s Studies department: if I want to watch hot men EVERYWHERE I’ll watch ANY soccer game, not Power Rangers banging into each other. #GetAGastricBand

Top image: Desolation Ridge V2 by Zlain81 via Deviant Art