Again, my dad. Always my dad!

I got a lot on my plate right now- those of you who know me will agree. The last thing I needed right now was for my dad to "act out" again, as he's done so successfully in the past. But nonetheless, here we are. Just for some background, my dad's name is Cliegg Lars. He owns our farm, in name, at least. One day soon it will be mine, but for now I just run it for him while he grieves for his late wife, Shmi, who was abducted by Tusken Raiders, abused, beaten, tortured, and killed not but two years ago. My dad, on a quest to recover his new bride, mounted a posse of his cantina buddies to ride out to the sandpeople's settlement to rescue Shmi, but was instead ambushed by the filthy s.o.b.'s. My dad's leg was cut off. Although he managed to escape, he will be forever classified as a cripple. Now, I don't want to lead readers in the wrong direction; dad hated the sandpeople long before this incident. I remember childhood stories of how these vicious creatures liked to milk the system and have thousands of sandkids tax-free, just so they wouldn't have to work. His favorite motto was, "Once you go Tusken, you never come back a-hustlin'. -Cuz you wouldn't have to- or at least that's how he ended it. Personally, I still don't get it. They're dirty lifeforms, either way. I'm glad my bro slaughtered like a whole village of them that night. Good for him, God rest his soul. Anyway, back to dad, I feel like he's drawing nearer the deep end, if you catch my drift. At dinner tonight he kept recounting the horrible tale of Shmi's torture at the hands of the Tusken Raiders, a tale, by the way, that he couldn't possibly have known, as he wasn't there. I felt it very queer that he was able to provide such detail as to her demise, not being a witness. But that's dad, always the Cheerful Charlie. One more thing about dad- ever since his slave wife was kidnapped and subsequently murdered, he's gone to the drink in a heavy way. In fact, he's been quite innovative lately. Since he's no longer farming, he's had a lot of time to kill, and he's been using that time to learn how to turn bacta into a mind-altering elixer. Now, we all know that bacta is a medicinal liquid known for it's healing qualities, yet pops discovered that if you leave it under your space cot long enough (a finding he discovered by pure happenstance, I reckon), it will eventually turn into yeast. So he lets this bacta medicine forment or whatever, look...I can't really explain the science behind it all, but it gets the old man drunk. Long story short- He spends almost every evening sailing his gliderchair to the place where we buried Shmi, falling off the blasted thing, and belly crawling over her grave, trying desperately to dig her up using only his hands as excavating tools. Usually there's loud howling and sobbing emitting from the old man's windpipe. At times he seems to be eating the dirt. It defies explanation. Most of the times he passes out on top of the grave. He seems very emberrassed in the morning when we revive him. And hot and sweaty, too. It used to be Beru that bathed him after such episodes, but there was some incident, and she'll no longer do it. So I do it now. I need to find a water-proof droid that can do it. Gotta split.

Lars- out!

My new droid

Well, one good thing happened today, at least. I bought a new astromech droid from some Jawa traders. They drove up to the homestead in their sandcrawler at about half past 4. The driver pulled in too close and ran over one my sensors and crushed a sprinkler head. I was fuming. He got out and apologized to me, but I told him if he didn't make it right I was gonna punch him in the butt. So he showed me his inventory of parts and droids. The little astromech caught my eye immediately as it was shiny and painted taupe, my favorite color. The driver said the droid was like new, owned by an old woman who only used the droid to escort her back and forth to church on Sundays. For breaking my equipment, he said I could take it home for 20 credits, a steal as it's probably worth 10 times that! The droid reminded me of that blue R2 unit that rolled up on us during my step-mom's funeral, ruining a solemn moment with his beeps and whistles. Had a message for Anakin about Obi-wan, of all people. So in reality, it was Obi-wan who interrupted the funeral of a dear lady because of his pressing "Jedi business." Just like him. And so they all take off, Anakin, that hot bird, the R2 unit, and my protocol droid, C3PO, which they took without asking, I might add. I always loved that protocol droid, really came in handy around here. Next time I see one like that I'm gonna buy it, as long as it can communicate with my moisture vaporators. Anyway, back to my newest droid. It's call numbers are R2J8. But that's kind of tough to say, so I'll call him R2J- no, wait, R2. Yes, I'll call him R2. So I took R2 to my workshop and started modifying him. I plan on making him into a little spy droid, so he can keep tabs on our new neighbor, the cold-blooded murderer. Beru wasn't too keen that I bought R2, so I better not tell her what his "real" purpose is. Don't worry, she can't read these blogs, she doesn't know my password. It's "killobiwan." But she doesn't know that. Anyway, I outfitted R2 with a spy-cam and a poweful scope so we can see what's going on next door. When he makes a move, I'll be ready. gotta go, Watto's calling.
Lars- out!

Unbelievable!

June 10-

You won't even belive this! I'm taking Beru to Anchorhead to get some batteries, as discussed previously, and who should I happen to see at the market square buying furniture? You guessed it, my brother's killer, still reaking of innocent blood and betrayal. So I park the speeder, and Beru makes a bee-line for the store where Obi-wan is shopping. When I interrogated her about it later, she said she was going there to look for a car seat for Luke(the new baby). Anyway, she immediately says hi to jerk-face, as if they're wonderful friends all of a sudden. Isn't that great, Beru has a new buddy! Never mind that he's got strange, unnatural powers, is recently unemployed, and, oh- yeah, just killed my frickin' brother in cold blood! I can't even stand this anymore. I've got to do something. I'm seething with anger right now. Well, I got to go collect the rest of the day's water and check on dad. He falls out of his chair a lot.
Lars- out!

That murderous jedi next door

June 10-

Well, looks like I got a new baby now. It was dropped off last night by that murderer s.o.b. Obi-wan Kenobi. In case you're wondering, the person he killed was my brother, Anakin. Watto told me that he cut off all of his arms and legs and threw his torso in a sea of lava. I'm so pissed about it I could spit. I thought the Jedi were cool, but now I hate them, especially Obi-wan. He couldn't even look at me when he dropped the baby off, probably scared. As if killing my bro wasn't enough for him, I could've sworn he was making cute little eyes to Beru, my old lady. But I was willing to let that go until I found out that he bought an old homestead near my property, which now makes him my neighbor. What nerve he has. First he drops off some illegitimate child to us without calling first, now he wants to live on Tatooine? And practically next door? Why?! Is it because he's smitten with Beru? He better not even think about it! Well, I better go out to the South Range. I can pretty much see his property from there with my electrobinoculars. Oh, dang it! I forgot to buy batteries for it. Well, better go into town. I'll take Beru with me so that ammoral wizard doesn't get any ideas.
Lars- out!