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 young people 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, *** without
utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate,
when it comes to ***, 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 that 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 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 ***ual 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 potbellied, 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.