My Ten Rules My Daughter's Boyfriend Knows
These Rules are for Entertainment Only "or are they"
Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk your horn, 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 the neck. If you can not keep your eyes or hands off my daughter, 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 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 you date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely to your waist.
Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilising a "barrier method" of some 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 that 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 long as you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more then an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for a movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer then painting the Golden Gate Bridge.
Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer then a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there 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 then 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 features 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 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, an 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 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.
These Rules are for Entertainment Only "or are they"
Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk your horn, 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 the neck. If you can not keep your eyes or hands off my daughter, 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 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 you date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely to your waist.
Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilising a "barrier method" of some 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 that 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 long as you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more then an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for a movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer then painting the Golden Gate Bridge.
Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer then a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there 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 then 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 features 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 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, an 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 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.
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