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"TEN SIMPLE RULES FOR DATING MY DAUGHTER"
Some
thoughtful information for those who are daughters, were
daughters, have daughters, intend to have daughters, or
intend to date a daughter.
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 to your 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 comes to sex, I am the barrier, and
I will kill you.
Rule Five: 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 change 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 sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature
chainsaws 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, 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 outside of 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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September
11, 2001
Never Forget
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