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Dad's Rules on Dating
austin247
Member Posts: 375 ✭
Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you 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 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 you 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 come 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 a 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 else 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 with 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 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 sounds of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming 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 in 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 in the window is mine.
Oh, and don't forget... have a nice evening.
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 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 you 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 come 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 a 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 else 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 with 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 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 sounds of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming 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 in 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 in the window is mine.
Oh, and don't forget... have a nice evening.
Comments
If I'm wrong please correct me, I won't be offended.
The sound of a 12 gauge pump clears a house fatser than Rosie O eats a Big Mac !
cbxjeffIt's too late for me, save yourself.
lets all be responsible! shoot a criminal! Remember 0% of firearms pull there own trigger!
Rugster