Rules on dating my daughter

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RULE FIVE: Current thinking is that in order for you and me to get to know each other, we should talk politics, sports, and other issues. Your ignorance and stupidity will only serve to anger me.The only information I require of you is when you will have my daughter home.

RULE ONE: If you pull into my driveway and honk, you better be delivering a package because you’re sure not picking anything up. You may glare at her adoringly, so long as you do not peer at anything below the neck.

I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. As soon as you pull into driveway, you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight.

One minute your daughter is wearing bunny slippers and demanding bedtime stories.

Hockey games are okay, old folks homes are better, a convent is best. I may appear to be a middle-aged, dim-witted has-been, but on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing god of your universe. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming over a rice paddy.

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. When my PTSD starts kicking in, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home.

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