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. 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. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. 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. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been.
Old folks homes are better.ĭo not lie to me. Movies, which feature chainsaws, are okay. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided. 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. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. 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. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car? My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.Īs you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. 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. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. 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 his subject is "early." In order for us to get to know each other, you may think we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you. I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. 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. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose his compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. 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. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. You do not touch my daughter in front of me. If you pull into my driveway and honk, you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure not picking anything up. Some thoughtful information for those who ARE daughters, WERE daughters, HAVE daughters, INTEND TO HAVE daughters, or INTEND TO DATE a daughter.