OBI-WAN THE MURDERER

My name is Owen Lars, moisture farmer extraordinaire. My step-brother, Anakin Skywalker, was betrayed and murdered by his mentor, Obi-wan Kenobi. I know this because Watto told me. This blog site is intended to raise awareness in the greater Mos Eisley area that this criminal is at large, living in our community, and what I, and hopefully others who care, plan to do about it.

20050901

Imperfect Beru


It has become quite clear to me as of late that Beru is in desperate need of some serious plastic surgery. I think this has been going on for a while, and I let it get out of control, but now’s the time to nip it in the bud; the fat bud, that is. When I say Beru is imperfect, I do not exaggerate. In fact, I have recently conducted research which led me to the conclusion that she has around 600 major and minor physical flaws.

Now, I realize that no one’s perfect, so I don’t expect her to correct all these flaws, but if we could end up somewhere in the high 500’s, that would be great. Let’s face it, she’s not 21 anymore, and at 23, she’s pushing the age barrier for me. There are a lot of chicks out there who have just turned eighteen, who have no kids, and are therefore much better than Beru. I say it’s high time “granny” gets the work done before she is carted off to the glue factory.

We men have it so much better off, as our aging is much more graceful. An aging woman is a disgrace to any reasonable person, while an aging man is someone dignified and wise. Our gray hairs are symbolic of growth and maturity, but on a woman they represent the coldest fact of life: that death comes to us all.

Here’s what I, having done little research, think Beru needs done:

Abdominoplasty:

Procedure: Flatten abdomen by removing excess fat and skin and tightening muscles of abdominal wall.

Chemical Peel:

Procedure: Restore wrinkled, blemished, unevenly pigmented, or suns-damaged facial skin, using a chemical solution to peel away skin's top layers. Works best on fair, thin skin with superficial wrinkles.

Dermabrasion:

Procedure: Mechanical scraping of the top layers of skin using a high-speed rotary wheel. Softens sharp edges of surface irregularities, including acne and other scars and fine wrinkles, especially around the mouth.

Rhytidectomy:

Procedure: Improving sagging facial skin, jowls, and loose neck skin by removing excess fat, tightening muscles, redraping skin. Most often done on men and women over 40 (or 23, in this case).

Facial Implants:

Procedure: Change the basic shape and balance of the face using carefully shaped implants to build up a receding chin, add prominence to cheekbones, or reshape the jawline.

Liposuction:

Procedure: Improve body shape by removing exercise-resistant fat deposits with a tube and vacuum device. Can be performed using the tumescent technique, in which targeted fat cells are infused with saline containing solution with a local anesthetic before liposuction to reduce post-operative bruising and swelling. Common locations for liposuction include chin, cheeks, neck, upper arms, above breasts, abdomen, buttocks, hips, thighs, knees, calves, ankles.

This is just for starters, as I realize recovery time is a factor. More procedures can, and will be slated for next month. I feel that after Beru gets all of these surgeries done, she may start feeling like a woman that deserves to have a man like me for a boyfriend.

Not to toot my own horn, but I think it’s rather big of me to think of her feelings in this way. I do, however, have a back-up plan in case any of these surgeries backfire, and she’s horribly scarred for life. I’ll simply kick her out of the homestead and grow my very own Padme. Well, actually- I’ll do that anyway, but in the meantime, I just want Beru to feel good about herself. That’s what I’m all about. We’ll go see the plastic surgeon tomorrow- unless Gab calls, that is.

Lars- out!

20050830

Acid face

I got a new slave today, to replace the one that died. This one was much stronger and younger, but too good-looking for my taste. I expressed this concern to the vendor. He suggested that said slave could be made to experience a facial acid bath, should I desire. I so desired. The whelp was led to an area out of sight, and was administered the treatment. The screams were magnificent. I almost felt bad, but I can’t let Beru be attracted by another man. That’s just how it is.

I took the deformed lad back to the homestead and put him to work. Unfortunately, a side-effect of the necessary acid treatment was that the slave was left without a tongue, so he no longer speaks. He still, however, can follow simple instructions, so I’m happy. Beru had the nerve to ask what was wrong with his face, and I told her that she was fat.

Later, in my study, I received a call. I was hoping that it was Gab, telling me that he had returned from Naboo with Padme’s head. Instead, it was Kun La, the cloner, asking if I was any closer to obtaining DNA for my experiment. I told him I was very close, and would get back to him soon. This got me thinking about Gab, and how it’s been a week already. What seems to be the holdup? I wish I knew.

I went out to the south range to check on the slave (Carl, I think), and was disheartened to find he had accomplished very little. I asked him what the deal-io was, and he kept pointing to his face, as if he was very uncomfortable. How I hate a complainer! I picked up the nearest stick and began swatting the loser in the face, making it red (der). With all the force I could muster, I bludgeoned him with the instrument until sweat ran down from my armpits. How I hate to sweat! In anger, I beat him harder.

Exhausted from the workout, I retired to my quarters. I curled up in my bed with a fresh bag of puffed pork. Without announcement, dad entered my room and began screaming at me for not paying the electric or the lawn care bills. He really made me feel bad with his yelling, and I wondered what I had ever done to anybody to deserve such treatment. Dad’s so completely insensitive.

Not having the money for the bills, I relied on an old trick. I wrote out two checks, one to Tatooine Electric, and one to Bob’s Lawn and Garden. But I purposely sent the lawn care check to the electric company, and vice-versa. When the two receive the mistakenly sent checks, they will return them to me, allowing me at least another week before I have to pay.

Always shooting moves- that’s the Owen way.

Lars- out!

20050829

A worthless slave

I decided today that we need to get a new slave to help out with the farming. I’ve just been too busy lately to keep it up, with my Padme cloning experiment, pod racing season, and my drinking. I will have to make sure, however, that dad has no part of the selection process. The last time he chose a slave, he opted for a semi-attractive, middle-aged woman over a very strong man. Then, shockingly, he freed her and married her. What a loser.

In the living room, Beru was mopping up vast quantities of blood. I don’t know where it came from, in fact, I stopped asking questions some time ago. I told her I was off to the market square to buy a slave. She told me to get one that speaks Bocce. I told her to shut her pie-hole.

There was a very poor selection of slaves at the market square. They were all human, save for one nasty Rodian. I almost wanted to select him, just so I could beat him, but that wasn’t the reason I needed a slave; not this time, at least. I almost picked a strapping young lad, but he was too attractive, and I don’t want Beru getting any “ideas.” I finally had to go with a weak old man. He was hunched over, skinny, and moved slowly. He did, however, speak Bocce. He was almost a steal at twenty credits. At first I wasn’t sure, but when I heard about the ten day money back guarantee, I was sold.

I helped the withering old fart into my speeder, as he didn’t fit in the trunk, and we were off. When we got to the homestead, I immediately propped him up against a moisture vaporator, and gave him a crash-course in moisture farming. I left him to his work, and headed inside to escape the vicious heat. I told dad about the slave, and he asked me if she was hot. I told him that “she” was a he, and no, he wasn’t hot. Angrily, he stabbed me in the patella with his exacto-knife. Dang, that hurt.

Later, I returned to the farm to check on the old man’s progress. I was quite dismayed with my findings. Not only did the worthless old goat get little, if any moisture collected, but he was also dead. I didn’t worry too much, though, as I would be able to get my money back. Being too late to return to Mos Eisely, I would have to wait until the morning. I decided not to leave the body outside all night, as it would be fair game for predators, and I might not get my money back if it’s torn to shreds.

Instead, I put the stinky old corpse in the baby’s crib. It will be quite funny to see Luke’s reaction when he wakes up next to a dead body. Oh- the joys of fatherhood!

Lars- out!

20050828

The blackest rose

Today’s newspaper featured an article on the front page about how Beru’s dad, Mr. Whitesun, has decided to sue the state of Tatooine for false imprisonment. His complaint alleges that he was detained erroneously, and during his detainment, he was “abused” by his fellow inmates. Mr. Whitesun did not elaborate as to the nature of the abuse, but one could easily speculate, due to the fact that his walking is now much different, that it involved name-calling, and, the force forbid, “mama insults.”

Tatooine County is all on-edge about the whole debacle, embarrassed by the bad press. Mr. Whitesun, with all of his wealth, has apparently hired the best “rainmaker” money can buy, and in a land void of rain, nonetheless. This dynamic and enigmatic attorney, Mr. Cochran, has quite a reputation for letting clients, especially guilty ones, off the hook. Credits are the key on Tatooine. To have and have not is our mantra…those WITH will have, those WITHOUT will suffer. It’s always been that way. Please do not take into consideration that the ones without do not care for working, as it seems to impede on their lifestyles quite a bit.

We should always try to be tolerant of those lesser than us, especially if they come from squalor, a broken home, or a multi-ethnic background. We should strive to be more open to the half-Jawa- half-Rodian in our kids’ elementary school, as our world is changing every day. Even the best golfer on Tatooine, Lion Forest, has to deal with prejudice on a daily basis. As wealthy as he is, some people still hate him for his ethnicity, alone. What weak-minded fools! As for me, I’m beyond all such biases, due the fact that I despise all life forms the same.

I totally accept all the other species on our planet, and hope they strive in their efforts to be successful as a people. In my opinion, they are no different than me, Beru, or dad. I just hope to the force that I don’t have to live in the same neighborhood with them, that I don’t encounter them in public, that I never, ever pick up any slang from them, that their influence will never reach into popular music, and that Luke will never dabble with their “dark” culture. Other than that, they are all FINE with me!

We have much to learn from these “unique” citizens, and I hope that when someone schedules a meet-and-greet with some of the local civic leaders of said minorities, that I can be the first to shake hands with said leaders (with the use of a latex glove, of course).

I’m sure that some of them must have some really interesting stories, almost like us, “real people” would!

Lars- out!