Ask Brian "the Boz" Bosworth

(note: these are actual Boz excerpts from his "autobiography")

Listen up, people! You got shitty lives! The Boz is here to help! Lay it on me!

Dear Boz,
I'm having a problem with my husband. Whenever he's on the computer, he refuses to let me see what he is working on. He says its for work. I think he's lying. What do you think? --Worried in West Virginia

Dear Worried: "Two-faced people suck. That's one reason I like football. There's no hypocrisy in football. There's no looking at both sides of the ball. If there's a guy over there in an orange shirt and you're wearing green, then you go kick the ass of the guy in the orange shirt. Simple as that."

Dear Boz,
I have a crush on one of my co-workers. I'm really thinking of asking her out. Do you think it's appropriate to do so? ---Confused in Chicago

Dear Confused: "Miami. The Orange Bowl. New Year's Night, 1986. And I'm standing on the field between plays, peeling a huge chunk of skin out of my hand and grinning. I'm not talking about a little skin. I'm talking about layers of skin, a big gouge of skin the size of a big broken rubber band. And it feels good. It hurts like hell, but it feels good. In fact, it feels great. The more skin, the better."

Dear Boz,
Me and my wife have lost that special spark between us. Things have gotten so bad we're thinking about getting a divorce. What should we do? --- Depressed in Detroit

Dear Depressed: "The only thing I like as much as football is making love. Okay, I like it better than, say, a regular season game, but not the playoffs. I like to make love in romantic, exciting places. One place I have not made love is in a perfect stranger's house. Just walk in the front door of somebody's house you've never met, find a room, and make love. The danger is half the fun. Haven't been able to convince my girlfriend on that one yet."

Dear Boz,
I am a complete geek and I don't know how to look "cool." I think if I had a little bit of fashion sense, I could get a girlfriend. Please help! --Stressed in Scranton

Dear Stressed: "I've got a serious jones for clothes. I must have twenty pairs of jeans. I wear mostly black. Makes you look ominous. The Raiders sent me this one sweatshirt: REAL MEN WEAR BLACK. I wear it all the time. That's my attitude. I guess I'm into clothes so much because I used to be a real Gomer in high school. Lots of polyester, lots of blends, Levis that zip up, golf shirts your dad would wear. I looked like Lumpy Rutherford."

Dear Boz,
Sometimes I get really depressed. I just don't know how to cope with life. What do you do when life gets you down? --SAD in Seattle

Dear SAD,
"Despite our being blown out of the play-offs in the first round...and despite the fact that our defense gave up more yards than Refrigerator Perry's shirtmaker... and despite the fact that it took some of my teammates a while to accept me for who I am (which, I admit, takes some time)... and despite the fact that I don't talk to my good buddies, the journalists of Seattle, for the entire regular season... my first season as a professional football player sometimes was a hoot."

Dear Boz,
Me and my best friend have known each other for years, but lately I feel like we are drifting apart. Is there any advice you can give me? --Sullen in San Francisco

Dear Sullen,
"Alonzo did something to me that game I'd never had doned before or since. He knocked me on my ass twice on one play. Twice! On one play! And then he gave me the Boz treatment. 'You low-life. I'll keep knocking your ass down, too, so you might as well just stop getting up, asshole.' Sounds like something off my greatest hits album. But the next quarter I hit him so hard he had to leave the game. He was hurting too. So I said, 'Take your candy ass out of the game, you crybaby.' Other than that, we were great friends."