Posted this story on MySpace (where I rarely post) and decided that young girls who stumble onto this page ought to get the benefit of my motherly wisdom.
Once upon a time there was a guy who broke into homes and stole people's stuff. He also assaulted the English language every time he opened his mouth. He kept a journal on a Big Chief tablet in which he logged every address and item he stole. In big letters on the front, he wrote "Things I Have Stole". The courts had no trouble convicting him and the police had no trouble returning the unsold stolen merchandise confiscated from his garage.
Girls, pay attention. If you think your mother or the mother of the boy you are dating/want to date/used to date will never read your blog, you are in the same category as the "Things I Have Stole" guy.
If you admit to driving drunk, you cannot date my son.
If you are flippant about your virginity, you cannot date my son.
If you admit that you routinely lie to your parents, you cannot date my son.
If you admit to doing drugs, you cannot date my son.
If you swear like a drunken sailor, you cannot date my son.
People are human. None of us are perfect. We are all fallible. These things, I know. But girls, if you don't even make a pretense at being a lady, you cannot date my son! And, because I care about you as a human being (a human being no longer allowed to date my son), when I stumble across your blog, I will point your technologically challenged parents to it. You are free to cry, cuss me, hate me, and slash my tires (for which you will go to jail), but --
YOU CANNOT DATE MY SON!