Ask Davo! Life advice from Davo Prentice-Johnson, true Aussie hero!

Davo Prentice-Johnson is a three-tours veteran of Afghanistan (SAS, Commando, Contiki) and has seen action in Samoa, East Timor, Iraq and Botswana, where we didn’t even have a war. Wounded five times, twice by the Taliban, twice by his own men, once by both working together, he is the author of the best-selling memoirs Take the Nose Off with a Boathook, SAM Recoil Skullf**k, and a book of military “lighter moments”, You Weren’t Supposed To Shoot the Kids!

He has been married four times, divorced five, and has between two and four children, rulings pending. Currently working in sensitivity training at Wolverine Media, he lends his worldly wisdom to everyday life for Crikey.

Dear Davo

For years we’ve got along well with our neighbours, enjoyed parties and backyard events together. Now they’re building an upper-storey extension that will look onto our yard. They haven’t asked, and maybe it’s no big deal, but it does feel like someone’s looking over you. Don’t want to ruin the friendship, but we want our privacy as well. Any tips?

“A Little Understanding” Rowville

Davo says

I hear you ALU! Your comfort matters, but the relationship is more important than this or that detail. So you’ve keyed their cars already I’m presuming. Now it’s time to show them you’re willing to talk reasonably. In these situations, I usually cut their dog’s head off and put it on a stick outside their children’s bedroom window. Moonlit night helps, but don’t make the perfect the enemy of the good. Pro tip: do it outside cause some breeds bleed like bastards.

Now, we’ve got a word for this in the trade: mediation. A sudden mutual understanding. If for some reason it then goes to VCAT, or county, there’s going to have to be a frank chat with one of the couple. Choose whichever you reckon can be heard above an electric saw in a garage, tied to a chair. Don’t thank me!

Dear Davo

Sally and I have been married for nine years, and it’s been great. If the passion’s died a little, we really get along well, and have two beautiful toddlers. Only in the past year has there started to be a distance between us. We talk about TV and shopping, that’s it. How can we rekindle the love and companionship?

Truly, Madly, Deeply, Maroubra

Dear TMD

There are many reasons why a distance can come between you and your lady. Ha, I’m kidding, there’s only one, some bastard with bigger abs and a better car is pouring her the pork. As we speak TMD, as we speak! In a Best Western hotel near the airport! Can you imagine what they’re doing!? Stew on it man, stew on it, till it turns. Let it turn!

You actually want her back? Re-establishing trust is crucial here, cause if you don’t have that from her, she’ll suss out your tracking devices in one hot afternoon, women are like that, they’ve got some extra thing in their inner ear or something. To bag these insects in the killing jar, you’re going to need at least six trackers. I use army surplus, real microchip-in-your-butt standard, but Jaycar Electronics do some amazing specials; there’s practically a dudded husbands aisle.

You’ll soon be talking all right, talking about who else is bringing the beef — the dry-cleaner, the butcher, some nail-salon Lothario on her “shopping” trips. Gaslighting is important here. That’s when you blow up that dry-cleaner’s bastard shop with a Calor bottle and a Zippo. Which solves the problem. Or narrows it down. Don’t thank me!

Dear Davo

I love my job, but a colleague is driving me crazy with his incessant criticism. He thinks he can do everyone’s job better, and it’s really disr—

Dear X

I’m gonna stop you there because I know where you’re going, also the unexploded round in my head plays hell with the concentration, and say to you: dog’s head on a stick. Dog’s head on a stick. Yeh all those Davettes out there are saying, Dave you’re like a broken rec- Broken Record! Sudden snap! Like a vine! Johnny Jungleboy’s on the march again! Shhhhhhhh! Get behind the couch! Blow the windows out! WHAT’S THAT RED MIST???!! !!#!@@$^$*^$!!!! Where was I? Oh yeah, dog’s head on a stick. There aren’t many problems that can’t be solved by a dog’s head on a stick. Not a cat’s head on a stick, mind. Not the same effect. All cats look the same. Like women at the casino. Dog’s head on a stick. Don’t thank me!

Dear Davo

I’m the head of a mid-size company with a mix of sentimentalist and authoritarian enthusiasm for the Australian military. In my most recent initiative to support it, I may have waded into the swamp way over my head. Any tips to extricate myself?

Yours, Anon

Dear Anon

To “extricate” yourself, fancy man? Ha, no. We are bonded as brothers of the seed, our blood has commingled, and I will take you down to Hell with me. You can get with the programme or you can spend the rest of your life wondering which serving of wagyu is gonna have the polonium in it. Dog’s head on a stick my friend, life is a DHOAS.  

Don’t.Thank.Me.

Till next time! Davo!