Jack was living in Arizona during a heat wave when the following took place.”It’s just too hot to wear clothes today,” complained Jack as he stepped out of the shower. “Honey, what do you think the neighbors would think if I mowed the lawn like this?””Probably that I married you for your money.”

1. Do it in person, the sane and mature way. State your reasons clearly and don’t let the fear of being alone stop you from going through with it.

2. Do it through a relative or mutual acquaintance. If it worked in third grade, it’ll work now.

3. Over dinner in a crowded restaurant, loudly state that you just can’t take it anymore, then storm out without any further explanation.

4. Write a note in steam on the bathroom mirror when they’re in the shower.“I hate you” works well, or “It’s not you, it’s me.” Read More…

I have a problem. I have two brothers. One brother is a boatswain in the Navy, the other was put to death in the electric chair for a gruesome multiple murder. My mother died from insanity caused by syphilis when I was three years old. My sisters are prostitutes, and my father sells narcotics to high school students. Recently I met a girl who was just released from prison. She was sentenced for smothering her illegitimate child to death. I want to marry her.
My problem is – if I marry this girl, should I tell her about my brother who is a Boatswain Mate.?

Sign Dilemma

A man, returning home a day early from a business trip, got into a taxi
at the airport. It was after midnight. While en route to his home, he
asked the cabby if he would be a witness. The man suspected his wife
was having an affair and he intended to catch her in the act. For $100,
the cabby agreed.

Quietly arriving at the house, the husband and cabby tiptoed into the
bedroom. The husband switched on the lights, yanked the blanket back
and there was his wife in bed with another man.

The husband put a gun to the naked man’s head. The wife shouted,
“Don’t do it! This man has been very generous! I lied when I told you I
inherited money. He paid for the Corvette I bought for you. He paid
for our new cabin cruiser. He paid for your season Green Bay Packer
Tickets. He paid for our house at the lake. He paid for our country club
membership, and he even pays the monthly dues!”

Shaking his head from side-to-side the husband slowly lowered the gun.
He looked over at the cab driver and said, “What would you do?” The
cabby said, “I’d cover his ass up with that blanket before he catches
a cold.”

Copyright 1998 W. Bruce Cameron
Please do not remove the copyright from this essay

When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend’s father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter’s chest. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.

Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter’s suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they’ll stay wilted all night.

“So,” I’ll call out jovially. “I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you’re stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?”

As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.
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 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 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, 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 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 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.

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 tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God. 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 outside of 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 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. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

NOTE: If you still have the guts to date my daughter, complete the “Permission to date my daughter” application here.