A list of puns related to "Cathy Name"
My mom had also recently divorced a man who was the father of a girl I dated in high school. We had broken up by the time they were married, so for a few years my step-sister was my ex-girlfriend of two years
I'm thinking of changing my name to Catherine and calling myself either Cat or Cathy for short. I'm interested in any associations people have with these names, like how people would imagine a Cat or Cathy to be without meeting them. I'm also vaguely considering Wren as a nickname (as in Cathe-ren) but I think that it might be a bit of a stretch. If you have any alternate suggestions for nicknames I'd be happy to hear them. Thanks!
[PLOT!]
When a mother from Halifax learns to sword fight, not everybody is supportive. However, her fortunes improve when her golf caddy finds a magic knitting needle. After achieving her goal, the mother turns to gambling then is killed by mobsters.
It's evening at the sword academy. Students in full plate metal duel across a circle of swept concrete. Above them, the ceiling is open to the purple sky. From his podium, Bladesmaster Kevin oversees the practice.
With the benefit of his high vantage, Kevin is the first to notice when the academy's heavy wooden doors creak open and a thin woman dressed in stretch pants and an apron pokes her head in. Kevin waves her over. "Don't be shy! Come on in!"
Wide-eyed, the woman picks her way between the duelists, pausing her and there to appreciate a sudden lunge or admirable slash. When she arrives at the foot of the podium, Kevin leaps down to greet her. "What can I do ya for?" he asks.
The woman takes a short breath, sets her jaw, and says, "I'm Cathy. I'm a housewife and I'd like to learn swordfighting."
"Then you've come to the right place!" Kevin says. "We can give you a trial right now, if you'd like."
Cathy frowns. "I do have to pick up my daughter from violin practice in thirty minutes..." She glances back at the duelists. "Which means I do have time!"
Kevin takes her over to the armoury. "Now, we've got armor in all sizes, but I might suggest you lose the apron. Also you've got a roller in your hair that'll get in the way of the helmet."
Cathy snatches the roller out and puts it in her little white purse. "I'm always forgetting those."
"No worries," Kevin says, and in short order he has her outfitted head-to-toe in plate metal. "Now, what type of sword were you hoping to master?"
"The claymore."
Kevin raises his eyebrows. "I'm not sure about that. You're a fairly small person."
"I'm very strong for my size," Cathy says.
Kevin shrugs. "Let's give it a shot." He unbolts the sword cabinet to reveal a collection of dozens of blades, from curved sabres to jagged hook swords to stubby bleeders. With both hands, he lifts a six-foot claymore off its supports. "Here you go."
When Cathy first takes the grip in her hands, the tip of the claymore drops to the ground with a clang. "Whoopsie," she says. Then she stiffens her wrists and the tip comes up level. "Easier than baking a pie," she says.
Kevin coughs. "Um, well, alright then. Let's get to it."
The two of them head into the duelists cir
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Such Moves Aren't Necessarily Illegal
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