Saturday, July 2, 2011

Daddy's against Daughters Dating 101 (Part 3) ...

What's that???
Why did't I blog yesterday???

Where was I???

What was I doing that was more important that continuing the education on "Daddy's Against Daughter's Dating 101"???

Well ... uhhh ...

I was cooking dinner for the homeless and I did not have a chance to blog ...

I was saving an elderly woman from a burning building and my hands were blistered and I could not type ...

I was volunteering at an orphange and could not put the children down long enough to have a chance to blog ...

I was giving blood and was to week to blog once I was done ...

No???

Not buying it???

Alright ...

The kids and I were at the pool soaking up some vitamin D for 4 hours Friday afternoon ... and the sun literally fried my brain ... and I forgot to blog once we got home.

Yep ...

True story.

BUT ...

I am SO glad that you are back for our next session in "Daddy's against Daughters Dating 101"!!!  I about to give you some VERY important that Clint can share with the lucky little duck that gets past the application stage ... and is actually allowed to take one of our daughters on a date.

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 his 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, you may think 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 his 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 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 middle-age man to you. 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 my father-in law has a ton of acres surrounding his house. Do not trifle with me.


Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very afraid. 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. FYI:  The camouflaged face at the window is mine.






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