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.


No more Luke

There was an article in the paper about a MEU student who disappeared last week. The police found her broke-down speeder in the desert, but there was no sign of her. Finally, they found her body yesterday, all mangled and torn up. Police say she was savagely beaten to death, most likely by sand people. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I read that part. Next, they interviewed her boyfriend. He stated that all he does all day is cry. What a pansy! Wasn’t he supposed to be some tough muscle-head? I hope all his friends make fun of him for that quote.

Today I went to the construction site to oversee the construction of my amusement park. I was infuriated when I got there and witnessed half the crew sitting on their butts eating sandwiches. I immediately confronted the foreman, who claimed that it was their lunch break. Excuse me? I certainly never authorized any lunch breaks. I told them all to get back to work before I fire them all and replace them with Gorgilinians (a species that only eats once a week). I felt like such a big man bossing all those huge guys around! One guy tried giving me a dirty look, so I told him that if he did it again, I would beat his mother to death with my belt buckle. He tried to attack me, but his friends held him back. While they held him, I spit in his face and called him a coward. I’m the man!

When I got home, things were even worse. Luke had the gall to bring an African-Tatooinian named Keechandra to our home, and Dad was not pleased. I knew that moving him to Mos Eisely Middle was a bad idea, as it was a school that entertained a lot of sub-par racial types, such as his new, dark friend. Dad, who had been sleeping off his three-day glue-sniffing marathon, was so incapacitated that he couldn’t have noticed a bantha farting on a nitro-glycerin truck (or the ill effects thereafter). But somehow, even blind, he knew there was a black human in his territory.

I walked in on the family just as Dad was beginning to beat Keechandra mercilessly. He smashed his night jar over the boys face and laughed maniacally as the liquid seeped into the boy’s orifices. I’ve been getting into space-karate lately, so I decided to stop Dad with a roundhouse kick to the face, but I accidentally kicked the boy’s face, instead. Luke was so angry that he began choking us both with his hands, only he wasn’t actually touching us. What was this dark magic this boy possesses, and more importantly, how can I use this to my advantage in the future?

I had my answer about two hours ago. A traveling circus cut through our property, and I sold Luke to their freak show division for 100 space-bucks and a tug at the bearded lady’s facial hair. It really was real. Freaky.

Lars- out!


At 5:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

It seems to me that you have matured a little. I sure hope you go on feeling manly in the future, and when you do just give me a jingle.
Ivana Humpalot

At 5:03 PM, Anonymous joni said...

i Is too bee soo hapi thad you ar riting agin. yus riting iz too maak mi laff soo moch?/ aGin i says bi;bi]

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