"Ten Simple Rules for Dating My Daughter"
Some thoughtful information for those who are daughters, were daughters,
have daughters, intend to have daughters, or intend to date a daughter.
Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be
delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at
her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot
keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your
age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off
their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your
friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about
this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your
underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object.
However, In order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off
during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric
nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without
utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate:
when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about
arts, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only
information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have
my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on
this subject is "early."
Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities
to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my
daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will
continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make
her cry, I will make you cry.
Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to
appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want
to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is
putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the
Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do
something useful, like change the oil in my car?
Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my
daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a
wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within
eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing,
holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm
enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or
anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to
her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided;
movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks
homes are better.
Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding,
middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I
am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you
are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole
truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres
behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake
the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice
paddy outside of Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in
my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my
daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your
car with both hands in plain sight. speak the perimeter password, announce
in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early,
then return to your car. There is no need for you to come inside. The
camouflaged face at the window is mine.
btw 9 is my favorite
[ 12-17-2001: Message edited by: capt. apathy ]
