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8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter was an American sitcom that aired from 2002 until 2005; I have only a passing knowledge of it since I was never able to watch more than a few minutes of it without being either bored, appalled, or both.  The show remains in syndication and seeing a listing for it on the TV guide had me pondering if the 8 simple rules were ever codified or if it was just a catchy title.  Before doing any research, I decided to make up my own 8 simple rules, and then compare my list to the actual rules.

  1. If you watch Entourage, you don’t get to date my daughter.
  2. There will be no use of the term “blue balls”.
  3. Hoes before bros… P.S. my daughter is not to be called “ho”.
  4. Under the shirt, over the bra.
  5. If I see your van a-rockin’, I will come a-knockin’.
  6. No glove, no love.
  7. You broke it, you bought it (hymen).
  8. Halfsies on abortions.

The actual 8 simple rules:

  1. Use your hands on my daughter and you’ll lose them after.
  2. You make her cry, I make you cry.
  3. Safe sex is a myth. Anything you try will be hazardous to your health.
  4. Bring her home late, there’s no next date.
  5. If you pull into my driveway and honk, you better be dropping off a package because you’re sure as hell not picking anything up.
  6. No complaining while you’re waiting for her. If you’re bored, change my oil.
  7. If your pants hang off your hips, I’ll gladly secure them with my staple gun.
  8. Dates must be in crowded public places. You want romance? Read a book.

All-in-all, the actual rules are folksier than mine, and more likely to rhyme, but mine are more reflective of the time.

Sweeney ToddSweeney Todd: obscure Canadian band, and the first chance at fame for Bryan Adams.  If Wishes Were Horses… Beggars Would Ride was worth the 25 cents I paid for it for the baby-faced Bryan (listed in the credits as “Bryan Guy Adams”) in a bum’s top hat and tails, on a wrap-around cover no less.  I honestly can’t recall one note of the music, or one word of the lyrics, but the cover is full of the sly innuendo that informed so many albums from the 70s: here, it’s not just a horse that beggar Bryan dreams of, but a topless female centaur with a face reminiscent of Catherine Deneuve.

This was Sweeney Todd’s second album, released in 1977.  Their first album featured the memorable single “Roxy Roller”.  Bryan Adams took over in the band for Nick Gilder, who hit it big (in Canada at least) with “Hot Child in the City” as a solo artist.  Bryan sings like a girl, his trademark rasp still two albums away, emerging in nascent form on “You Want It, You Got It”, from the album of the same name (is the coughing up a lung at the end of that song an intentional artistic statement, or a lucky accident that changed a career?).  The production, which cranks up the treble on the vocals, only accentuates teenage Bryan’s preciousness, a far cry from the more muscular rock sound that would launch him into the stratosphere of international stardom within a few short years.  I was a huge fan of Bryan Adams in the 80s, and only discovered his earlier career many years later, when I had long since drifted away from his considerable charms.

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