ebonlock | -the hell...

Over at Sadly, No! czrpb gives us the perfect "shorter" version of Doug "Heterosexual" Giles' latest screed:

Ya know - I am a minister: Kinda like a cross between Reverend Shaw Moore and Lord John Whorfin; catch my drift Peach?

What's Giles on about? His rules for dating his daughters. Allow me to quote one or two:

6. Thou shall know that our family is old school. Do not even think about approaching me with liberal, hippy, agnostic, atheistic, anti-American or tree humping bull crap. I was raised by country-loving, God-fearing, hard-working, meat-eating, good ole’ Texan parents, and I have zero tolerance for what your long-toothed, rather mannish lesbian sociology teacher at Columbia U programmed you with—you dig?

And how about:

7. Thou shall know that I like cool and expensive gifts and you shall provide unto me this bounty, if you’re smart … For example; I like high quality cigars (nothing below a 90), Johnnie Walker Blue Label, Chimay Grand Reserve, books on hunting Africa and old British double rifles. I also like original art work, R&B and classic rock compilations, collecting skulls, hunting and big game fishing trips, antique Christian and Classic books, custom choppers and early twentieth century African safari memorabilia.

Hey, what's a little prostitution between guys? One wonders what sexual favors with Doug's daughters a custom chopper would purchase for an interested young man. But here's another:

10. Thou shall do these three things: 1) Look good. Do not come into my house with earrings, a grill, or over sized pants with your butt cleavage hanging out. 2) Read. If I have to talk to you, you had better know as much about as many things as possible. 3) Serve. I’m looking for a sacrificial dude who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty in helping around the house, in our community, in our nation and with our wonderful world. If you, young man, obey all the words written here, then and only then will you have a chance with my babies. Now, go get me a beer.

Uh...huh. Read the whole thing if you want a truly Freudian glimpse into the uber masculine mind of the modern wingnut. Or just check out one commenter's addition to Mr. Giles' list:

Jake H. said:

11. Don’t be stingy with the head, junior. If you’re going to take up space in this house, you’re going to leave with the tile pattern from my bathroom floor imprinted on your hairless little kneecaps, hot shot. That’s right, this prospective pops-in-law expects BJs while on the can. All the Johnny Walker Blue loosens up the bowels, too, so be ready to follow me down the hall every time I stand up and grab one of my dog-eared Left Behind paperbacks. And I don’t mean faggoty, gentle-lipped head like you gave your bunkmate at your kiked-up sleepaway camp. My old life as a dope-dealing felon left me with a taste for prison-style head–lots of teeth and hate. If you can treat three inches of God’s finest properly, and if you swallow my fetid load without gagging, I might let you use more than one square of toilet-paper to clean off my asshole.