It's Today?! - The Story of My Life

Who knows maybe with the incentive, I may keep this diary, and not just as a collections of rants, and updates ever time I get ill. I mean seriously, two entries in three years? Both saying "I'm sick"?

For the diary comp. Winner of May.

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24. Fa Kyu as a Martial Art 8-2-2016

Well it’s been a long time… and I don’t have much time to write either… but I’ve just returned from assisting the teaching of self-defence at the local WI (Woman’s Institute) group. My lesson on heels went down very well, but my father’s warm up of screaming “Fuck Off!” and his example with his Scottish accent I swear made some of the women nearly faint.

I think it’s time I shared the age old Scottish martial art of Fa Kyu. I’d also recommend you read that out loud and fast, while alone. This is an ancient tradition that has been passed down my family ever since my father made it up to pull a prank on a Japanese girl we had staying.

She had a homework assignment see, and though her English was very good, it wasn’t perfectly fluent enough to catch puns. She was supposed to write about the different British traditions, and so my family took it upon ourselves to help her out. My mother showed them how to make scones and explained country dances and organised trips to fancy manors and castles. My father put on a skirt, stuck a knife in his sock, and explained how it was the family tartan.

He also invented Fa Kyu. Apparently it consisted of large breasted women using giant poles (like telephone poles, not pole dancer poles, I hope…), and throwing them at people. Poor Yuki was taking notes the entire time… I had to confiscate them before she handed them into her teachers…. Poor girl still didn’t understand why I told her to ignore everything my father said…

 

Well that’s all I have time for right now… If I get the chance I’ll write about the Padre who we got drunk, and so she told the story of the time she peed in a churchyard… or maybe some of the stories from my sister’s trip to the hospital. The consultant who messed up so bad my mother sassed him and so he couldn’t look us in the eye was kinda funny. Xmas was pretty dull though, and my birthday was lovely, but other than my friend pretending she couldn’t speak English when a dude came up to her in the street, nothing that funny happened that I can recall. I mean, I guess my boyfriend would try and correct me with things like putting potato peelers on the Xmas tree, but that’s just normal as far as I’m concerned!

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