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Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me.
Marine, gathered these rules together from around the Web, updated them a bit and sent them to me. 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 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.
Let me elaborate: When it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you. 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. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been.