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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.
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:
It is usually understood that in order
for us to get to know each other, we
should talk about sports, 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 than can take longer than
painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead
of just standing there, why don't you do
something useful, like changing 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 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 themes
are to be avoided; movies which feature
chain saws are okay. Hockey games are
okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a
potbellied, balding, middle-aged,
dimwitted 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 near 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
the 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
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