Really really funny. ROFL.


>10 Simple Rules for Dating My Daughter
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>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, and then I’ll killya.
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>Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me or I’ll killya. 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 permanently and then I’ll killya.
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>Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their pants so loose 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 stupid. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this, 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 cordless gas nail gun and nail your pants securely to your waist, and then I’ll killya.
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>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 killya.
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>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 is "early" or I’ll killya
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>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 dumps you. (Ohh and she will dump you) If you make her cry, I will killya.
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>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 or I’ll killya. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should go by yourself. 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 or picking up the dog crap in my back yard?
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>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; any of these and I’ll killya
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>Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted old 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 so help you God. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and a pickup truck big enough to fit your scrawny but in as I drive to find a swamp to drop your carcass in for gator bait. Do not trifle with me or and I’ll killya.
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>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 sand dune outside of Kandahar. When my post traumatic stress disorder 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 on your head. 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, and I’ll killya.
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>I, ________________________________,(otherwise known as hooptydoopty boy, curly head boy, big head boy, big goofy boy or what ever I chose to call you) fully understand and will comply with all non-negotiable rules and laws stated above. I understand that if I should have the misfortune of forgetting or not complying with one of these tenets, my early and untimely demise will be my fault and mine alone because I’ll killya.