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.


Dad touched Luke

Dad’s such a jerk! He kept waking me up last night, begging me to go to the store to buy him some pipe tobacco. I told him repeatedly to go drink some space-gasoline and die, but he was relentless! Finally, at three in the morning, I had to put on my booties and drive to the Mos Eisely tobacco emporium.

When I got back, I found it queer that Dad was in Luke’s room. Upon seeing me, he nervously scampered out into the hall. When asked why he was in there, he replied that he was looking for his socks. Hmmmmm… Socks? As in plural? Last I checked, Dad only had one foot. What had been going on here? Beru was still passed out on the recliner, as she’s become quite fond of prescription pills, as of late. What was Dad really doing in Luke’s room? Oh well, it didn’t matter that much, seeing as how I was so tired, and all. The last thing I remember before going back to bed was Dad telling me that he was going to continue searching for his socks in Luke’s room. Whatever.

I haven’t posted to my space-journal in quite some time, as I was jailed twice (innocently, on both counts), and was hospitalized for two months with a rare blood-borne disease. The doctors said it was hereditary, but Dad never contracted it, and since we don’t know who my real mother is, there’s no way to trace it through the family. I was on antibiotics for the past ten days. The doctor told me to abstain from drinking alcohol while on the medicine, and I told him to die a violent space-death. No one’s going to tell Owen Lars how to live!

The reason I’m writing now is that I’ve decided to finally live out my life dream, and I’m going to chronicle my progress in this journal. It’s about time I put myself first, for a change. I’ve always dreamed of having a theme park erected in my honor. It will be called “The Owen Lars Experience” and all the rides and attractions will be themed after parts of my life. For instance, the biggest roller-coaster will be called “Owen’s Courage,” and there will be other rides based on my other wonderful qualities, as well. Finally, this dream will become a reality.

We still have quite a bit of money leftover from Carl’s fortune, and I’ve decided to sink every red cent into this theme park. I haven’t told the others yet, but trust me, they’ll thank me later! I’m meeting with the planning commissioner and several contractors tomorrow. I’m planning on buying between 25-35 acres of desert right in the heart of Anchorhead. This is going to be so awesome.

Because all this planning put me in such a good mood, I suggested to the family that we play a nice, friendly game of tag. I was IT first, so I tagged Dad, as he was an easy target (mostly immobile). Then Dad touched Luke, and he was IT.

Lars- out!