Archive for June 2009

From ape man to computing man

June 22, 2009

From ape man to computing man in less than three minutes, with some nice graphics.

However, I am not a supporter of this concept of evolution.

Happy Father’s Day (to me)

June 21, 2009

APPLICATION FOR PERMISSION TO DATE MY DAUGHTER

June 20, 2009

NOTE: This application will be incomplete and rejected unless accompanied
by a complete financial statement, job history, driving record, lineage, and
current certified medical report (including drug tests) from your doctor.

1. NAME  ________________________ DATE OF BIRTH _______________

2. HEIGHT __________ WEIGHT ________ I.Q ________ G.P.A._________

3. EPF# __________________ DRIVERS LICENSE #  __________________

4. BOY SCOUT RANK____________________________________________

5. HOME ADDRESS ____________ CITY/STATE _________ ZIP __________

6. Do you have one MALE and one FEMALE parent?___________________

    If No, EXPLAIN ______________________________________________

7. Number of years your parents have been married __________________

8. Do you own a van? ____________ A truck with oversized tires? ______ A waterbed? _________

Do you have an earring, nose ring, belly button ring, or a tattoo?________

(If  "yes" to any of #8, discontinue application and leave premises)

9. In 50 words or less, what does "LATE" mean to you?________________

10. In 50 words or less, what does "DON’T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER" mean to you? _______________________________________________________

11. In 50 words or less, what does "ABSTINENCE" mean to you?
___________________________________________________________

12. Do you attend church? ______________
Church you attend __________ How often do you attend ___________

(If  "no" to #12, discontinue application and leave premises)

13. When would be the best time to interview your father, mother and priest/rabbi/minister? _________________

14. Answer by filling in the blank: please answer freely. ALL answers are confidential (That means I won’t  tell anyone -ever- I promise.)

a) If I were shot, the last place on my body I would want wounded is _______________________________________________

b) If I were beaten, the last bone I would want broken is my
_______________________________________________

c) A woman’s place is in the _______________________________________________

d) The one thing I hope this application does not ask me about is _______________________________________________

e) When I first meet a girl, the first thing I notice about her is _______________________________________________

( NOTE: If your answer begins with "T" or "A", discontinue. Leave premises keeping your head low. Running in a serpentine fashion is advised.)

15. What do you want to be IF you grow up? ____________________________________

I SWEAR THAT ALL INFORMATION SUPPLIED ABOVE IS TRUE AND CORRECT
TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT, NATIVE AMERICAN ANT TORTURE, ELECTROCUTION, CHINESE WATER TORTURE, AND RED HOT POKERS.

 

________________________________________
Signature (That means sign your name)

Thank you for your interest. Please allow four to six years for
processing. You will be notified in writing if you are approved. Please do
not try to call or write. If you do attempt any communication before your
application is approved, automatic disqualification will result.
If your application is rejected, you will be notified by
two gentlemen wearing white ties and carrying violin cases (You might
want to watch your back).

Do you still want to date my daughter?:

_____ Yes, please accept my application

_____ I um, no, I uh, think I have the wrong house…

Who’s the smartest?

June 19, 2009
2410030312_48d27c1d52Three kids bragging about fathers:
  • First: My dad’s so smart he can talk for one hour on any subject.
  • Second: My dad’s so smart he can talk for two hours on any subject.
  • Third: My dad’s so smart he can talk for 3 hours and doesn’t even need a subject.

Source unknown

At the Library

June 18, 2009

I was sitting in my favorite chair, studying for the final stages of my doctoral degree, when Sarah announced herself in my presence with a question: “Daddy, do you want to see my family picture?”

“Sarah, Daddy’s busy. Come back in a little while, Honey.”

Good move, right? I was busy. A week’s worth of work to squeeze into a weekend. You’ve been there.

Ten minutes later she swept back into the living room, “Daddy, let me show you my picture.”

The heat went up around my collar. “Sarah, I said come back later. This is important.”

Three minutes later she stormed into the living room, got three inches from my nose, and barked with all the power a five-year-old could muster: “Do you want to see it or don’t you?” The assertive Christian woman in training.

“NO,” I told her, I DON’T.”

With that she zoomed out of the room and left me alone. And somehow, being alone at that moment wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. I felt like a jerk. (Don’t agree so loudly.) I went to the front door.

“Sarah,” I called, “could you come back inside a minute, please? Daddy would like to see your picture.”

She obliged with no recriminations, and popped up on my lap.

It was a great picture. She’d even given it a title. Across the top, in her best printing, she had inscribed: “OUR FAMILY BEST.”

“Tell me about it,” I said.

“Here is Mommy [a stick figure with long yellow curly hair], here is me standing by Mommy [with a smiley face], here is our dog Katie, and here is Missy [her little sister was a stick figure lying in the street in front of the house, about three times bigger than anyone else]. It was a pretty good insight into how she saw our family.

“I love your picture, Honey,” I told her. “I’ll hang it on the dining room wall, and each night when I come home from work and from class [which was usually around 10 P.M.], I’m going to look at it.”

She took me at my word, beamed ear to ear, and went outside to play. I went back to my books. But for some reason I kept reading the same paragraph over and over.

Something was making me uneasy.

Something about Sarah’s picture.

Something was missing.

I went to the front door. “Sarah,” I called, “could you come back inside a minute, please? I want to look at your picture again, Honey.”

Sarah crawled back into my lap. I can close my eyes right now and see the way she looked. Cheeks rosy from playing outside. Pigtails. Strawberry Shortcake tennis shoes. A Cabbage Patch doll named Nellie tucked limply under her arm.

I asked my little girl a question, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

“Honey…there’s Mommy, and Sarah, and Missy. Katie the dog is in the picture, and the sun, and the house, and squirrels, and birdies. But Sarah…where is your Daddy?”

“You’re at the library,” she said.

Guard Your Heart, pp. 21-22.

800 Pacos

June 17, 2009

FatherSon_Full There’s a Spanish story of a father and son who had become estranged. The son ran away, and the father set off to find him. He searched for months to no avail. Finally, in a last desperate effort to find him, the father put an ad in a Madrid newspaper. The ad read: “Dear Paco, meet me in front of this newspaper office at noon on Saturday. All is forgiven. I love you. Your Father.”

On Saturday 800 Pacos showed up, looking for forgiveness and love from their fathers.

Bits & Pieces, October 15, 1992, p. 13

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