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.


Home, sweet home

We finally got into a fine moisture farm. It was actually our old one. Because nobody was currently selling, we went straight to the owners of our old farm and offered them a fair price for the property. The people living there were black, and Dad kept protesting that he didn’t want to live in a house where “damn niggers” used to live, as he put it. When the family moved out, they left a bunch of their crap behind. Also, they destroyed basically everything on the property. Not only did they not take care of anything, but they let the evaporators and pumps go to hell. I don’t know why they lived on a moisture farm if they didn’t farm. Lazy niggers, Dad says.

After we moved in, Dad kept finding nappy hairs all over the house, and each time he would go off. He even pulled Luke aside and told him that if he ever hung out with a black kid, he’d smother him in his sleep. As far as Beru goes, she seemed sort of happy to be back home. She doesn’t cry for Carl as much, now, so hopefully she’s getting over him.

After settling in, it began feeling like the old days. I even found out that my old nemesis, Obi-Wan, still lives next door. I wasn’t too bothered by it, though, and decided that I would come up with a list of reasons to hate him later. We bought a really cool speeder with some of the leftover money, and we’ve been having a great time driving it all over the desert. I even bought some really sweet rims for it. Dad asked me to take him to the store so he could buy 650 cans of disinfectant. It seems he’s not at all happy about the smell that the previous tenants left in our house, that “nigger smell”, as he calls it.

When we got home, he sprayed all 650 of the cans all over the house. The fumes were so strong, we all had to go outside for three days. After the second day, we realized that nobody had seen Luke. Unfortunately, he was still in the house, passed out and unconscious. We took him to the hospital and he nearly died. He’s got a really bad case of asthma now. You’d think Dad would feel bad about it, but he doesn’t. He’s just glad he doesn’t have to smell sambo anymore. Dad really hates black people.

Lars- out!