Random Jokes
Smart Blond
Daddy's Date Rules
Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, becasue
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 this compromise: YOu may come to the door
with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes to big, and I will not object.
However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, infact come off during the course of
you 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 barrrier, and I will kill you.
Rule Five:
It is usually understood that 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 on this 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 than 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 fora date with my daughter: Places where
there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is
darkness. PLaces where there is danceing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the
ambient temperature is warm enough to introduce my duaghter to wear shorts, tank tops,
midriff T-shirts, or anything othere 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 features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks
homes are better.
Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted
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
tellme the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and
five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
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 rice paddy near Hanoi. 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. As soon as you pull into the driveways you
should exit the 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. The camoflaged face at
the window is mine.
A Blonde walks into a bank in New York City and asks for the loan
officer. She says she's going to Europe on business for two weeksand
needs to borrow $5,000.
The bank officer says the bank will need some kind of security for such
a loan, so the Blonde hands over the
keys to a new Rolls Royce parked on the street in front of the bank.
Everything checks out, and the bank agrees to accept the car as
collateral for the loan. An employee drives the Rolls into the bank's
underground garage and parks it there.
Two weeks later, the Blonde returns, repays the $5,000 and the interest,
which comes to $15.41.
The loan officer says, "We are very happy to have had your business,
and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little
puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out and found thatyou are
a multimillionaire. What puzzles us is why would you bother to borrow
$5,000?"
The Blonde replied, "Where else in New York can I park
my car for two weeks for 15 bucks?"
Finally a "Smart Blonde" joke