I always hate meeting the parents. There's no more awkward situation for a father than having to sit down and make nice with some schlub who's seen his darling young flower of innocence completely naked and covered with canola oil, crawling round on all fours and barking like a cocker spaniel while you spanked her with a riding crop—and it's no party from the far side of the menacing glare, either. But here's a useful tip: when he asks about your plans for the future, don't tell him you're going to try to talk his daughter into arranging a little show for you with her best friend and a couple of midgets.

That's rude.

When you girlfriend's father asks you about you plans for the future, he wants to know about your plans for marriage. Actually, he probably doesn't want to know about your real plans for marriage, especially when you're sitting across the table from his wife—the withered, warty forecast of what his daughter will turn into in ten years—because at that point, your plans for the future are to trade her in on a newer model at the first sign of wear. Granted, you're less likely to get shot at for admitting as much ...

... the tears of regret will foil his aim.

At best, it will be a tense situation. The entire father and son dynamic is hostile enough, so can you really expect there to be a casual amiability between two males when one of them is having rough, kinky sex with the other's offspring? I can't imagine any relationship being less difficult, except perhaps for those poor fellows in the Ozarks, for whom both father-son and father-guy-who's-dorking-his-daughter are likely to affect their relationship with the same fellow, and livestock are generally involved.