RULES FOR DATING MY DAUGHTER


If you pull into my driveway and honk, you'd better be delivering a package,
because you're sure as hell not picking anything up.

You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her as 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 for you.

I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys to wear trousers so
loose that they are falling off of their hips. Don't take this as an insult:
you and all of your friends are morons. But I want to be fair and open
minded about this, so I propose this: you may come to the door with your
underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big; but in order to ensure
that your clothes do not, in fact, fall off your ass during the course of
your date with my daughter, I will use my nail gun to fasten your trousers
securely to your waist.

I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing some
kind of "barrier method" can kill you. Let me elaborate on this: when it
comes to sex, I am the barrier and I will kill you.

You may think that in order for us to get to know each other better we could
talk about sports, politics, or other social issues.
DO NOT DO THIS. The only information I require from you is an indication of
when you expect to have my daughter safely back here at this house, and that
words I need from you on this are, "Early, sir."

You may be popular at school with many opportunities to date other girls. I
have no problem with this as long as it is okay with my little girl. Once
you have gone out with my little girl, you will date no one but her until she
is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

As you wait at the door for my daughter to come out and more than an hour
goes by, I do not want to hear you sigh or watch you fidget. If you wanted
to be on time for movies then you shouldn't be dating. My daughter will be
putting on her makeup, a process that takes longer than painting the Golden
Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, you may change the oil in my
car.

YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY DAUGHTER TO THE FOLLOWING PLACES

Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool;

Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns in sight;

Places where there is darkness.

Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness.

Places where the temperature is warm enough to induce my
daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, or midriff T-shirts;

Movies with a strong romantic or sexual themes will be avoided.

THE FOLLOWING PLACES ARE APPROPREIATE TO TAKE HER

Movies which feature chainsaws are okay;

Hockey games are okay;

Old folks homes are better.

Never lie to me. I may seem to be a pot-bellied, balding,
middle-aged has-been dipshit; 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 only one chance to
tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but. I have a shotgun, a
shovel, and five acres in back.
DO NOT MESS WITH ME.

And finally, BE AFRAID. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to
mistake the sound of your car for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy.
While you're out with my daughter and the Agent Orange starts acting up, the
voices tell me to clean my guns while I wait for you to bring her home. As
soon as you pull up into the driveway, come out of your car with both hands
in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password. Report clearly that you have
brought my daughter back both safely and early. Then return to your car.

There is no need for you to come inside. And incidentally, the camouflaged
face at the window IS MINE.

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