A PARODY: Diary of a Tukong Master
Diary of a Tukong Master
I’m thinking of writing a memoir. I mean, I am absolutely the coolest person who ever lived. It wasn’t easy to come to that conclusion. I had to read at least 30 history books and painstakingly compare the modest achievements of other famous people with my own accomplishments. But the evidence cannot be disputed. Here’s something to think about:
Was Napoleon a 6th Dan in Combat Tukong?
No, he was just a short Italian guy with a good army.
Did Elvis diagnose a brain infection over the telephone?
No, he was too busy posing for velvet paintings. Homo.
How many prostitutes did Captain America save using his throwing stars?
Hah! He didn’t even HAVE throwing stars. He just threw his shield! Who throws a shield?!?
Could Einstein use his ki to control other people?
Nope. After he invented electricity, he pretty much dried up.
Now you see my point. So about the memoir; I thought I’d title it, “King Tukong” or something like that. I think it should be a series of stories about the wicked cool stuff I’ve done. You know, the martial arts stuff. No one wants to hear about how I broke my front tooth when I tried to bite through the coke bottle. Or that incident at the petting zoo. Those goats were fucking rough, man…actually, maybe I will put the incident with the goats in. Except this time I won’t pee on myself. And I’ll knock some of THEM down. Yeah…see, diary, you can change a little bit of your life if you write a memoir. As long as you don’t change, like, a million little pieces of the story than you’re okay.
Anyway, for the first chapter, I thought it would be cool if I wrote about how I picked up that girl from the Salvation Army in Austin. You know, the one on the bad side of town. I was having dinner with the Schneckelburgs (the ones who make that amazing salmon and lemon quiche) and they asked me to pick up their daughter from where she volunteered at the soup kitchen. I had no idea she worked in such a bad area! Of course, I agreed. I didn’t want to, but my parents were there and they told me that they wouldn’t let me go to church if I didn’t help out. I hate being grounded from church.
So I drove down there. It’s a good thing it was still daylight out or I would have had to go stealthy. As it was, I saw these black people sitting at a bus stop near an intersection and, OF COURSE, the light was red so I had to stop right next to them. I swear, they were just waiting to jump me. So I pulled a little tukong mind-trick by staring straight ahead and concentrating my ki so they wouldn’t attack. The trick is to not look at them, otherwise they might get scared and attack out of fear. Besides, I wasn’t that worried because I had my throwing stars under the seat. So I picked her up and drove her home…
Actually, that’s a shitty story. Let me see what I can do with it…
Yeah, that’s much cooler!
Originally Posted by tukong
Tata for now, diary – I’ll write another chapter as soon as I finish washing these streak marks out of my BVDs.
- Jiggy Himmins
this better be as good as BJJ and Nija and samurai teens!
That's a tough comparison! I'm hoping to tie in some actual claims in every story...we'll see.
We'll see indeed. Did make me chuckle, so hope is not lost. ;)
What the hell is Tukong?
Based on this story it sounds like what I used to pretend to do when I was twelve, except with a lot less prostitution in this version.
Check http://www.bullshido.net/forums/showthread.php?t=28771. I'm not sure why that didn't link in the first post.
There is another thread about Tukong at http://www.bullshido.net/forums/showthread.php?t=23262
You can form your own opinions, I'm sure.
EDIT - fixed link.
Originally Posted by OnceLost