Friday, September 30, 2005

Time for Smiting Down Dooku It Is

Getting on my nerves again, Dooku is. Smiting him down I keep putting off. To pencil his smiting into my dayplanner, I need. Get done, things do not if schedule them you do not.

So, Dooku, if reading this you are, sorry I am. Ignoring you I am not. Get around to smiting you down as soon as I can, I will. Good for you next Tuesday is? Say 3:00 pm? If good for you that is not, get with my people have your people. Work something out they can. Set up an appointment for your smiting that works out for both of us they will.

As before I said, getting on my nerves again, he is. Everytime that have an argument with him I try, this he does:


"Talk to the hand, Old Bean."

Really annoying that is. First of all, 1991 anymore it is not. Get with the times he must. Also, my train of thought this interrupts. Forget the names I was going to call him, it makes me.

At least, doing this anymore he is not:


"Pull my finger, won't you, Chap?"

Yes, amazing flatulence control he has, but impressed I am not! An amateur next to Kenobi or Young Skywalker he is.

Anyway, smite him down soon, I will.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Windu, the Cure for Common Boredom

Bored I am. Bored. Bored. Bored.

I guess smite down some evil doers I could. Nah, done that already today I have.

Force-wedgies? Nah, getting monotonous that is. Almost used to it, the Jedi are now.

Mess with Windu, I could. Yes, always fun that is.

"Windu, a spot you missed on your head."

"A spot?"

"Yes. When polishing your head you were. A spot you missed."

"Oh my God! I went out in public like this! Why don't people tell me these things?! Where? Where's the spot? Show me."

"Oh. See it clearly now, I can. My mistake that is. Miss a spot you did not."

"Well, thank goodness! You about gave me a coronary there."

"Yes, like a common liver spot it looks to me."

"What?! Oh no! No, no, no! I'm too young to start getting liver spots! Oh God!"

"Calm down, Windu. Maybe a liver spot it is not. Caused by a tumor it could be."

"Noooooo! Why?! Why me? I'm too pretty to die! Life is so unfair! Why couldn't it have been someone with dry skin or an irregularly shaped head? Why?!!!"

"Oh, wait."

"What? What is it?"

"This spot I recognize. A sign of Naboosian Skin Lice, it is."

"Naboosian Skin Lice? That's impossible! My hygiene is impeccable! I've won awards..."

"Attracted to over-moisturized skin, Naboosian Skin Lice are."

"They are?!"

"Yes, a rich breeding ground for them it is."

"No! This is worse than the liver spot! How do I get them out?"

"Only one way there is, but maybe do it you will not."

"What is it? I'll do anything!"

"Ok, get down on all fours you must."

"Like this?"

"Yes, yes. Good that is. Now, drive them out by making a loud noise you must."

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD! Like that?"

"No, more high-pitched it must be. Maybe if like a wamphog you squealed..."

"WEEEEEE! WEEEEEE! Like that?"

"Yes, yes. But louder you must squeal."

"WEEEEEEEE!!!!! WEEEEEEE!!!"

"Good, Windu. Now do that for a couple more hours you must, then spray you with the pressure washer I will so that make sure all the lice are out we can."

Hee hee hee hee! Never an excuse to be bored I have.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

A Rash I Have

A rash I have. Very itchy it is. Supposed to scratch it I am not, otherwise, make it worse I will.

The doctor says caused by stress it is. I think the truth he is telling. The more stressed out I feel, the more it itches. Very hard not to scratch it, it is.

The doctor also says avoid stress for now I must. To be calm I should try. But live with these doofuses, he does not.

First, up to me Windu comes, "Yoda, we have got to talk about the severe lack of shininess among the Jedi. Everyone seems to be neglecting their skin care. I mean, it is an epidemic. This is serious, man! And don't get me started on the lack of exfoliation! But we have got to do something about this before it's too late. When can you and I meet on this? It shouldn't take more than three or four hours to discuss it."

Scratch I must not. Scratch I must not.

Then, a call from Jar Jar I received. "Yoda, mesa forgetten. Issen mesa supposed to putten on mesa pants first, or mesa shoes? Mesa forgetten every time! Yousa show mesa again, yes?"

Scratch not! Scratch not! Scratch not!

Then, Kenobi. "Master, I need your help again. I got another Cheeto stuck up my nose. Can ya get it out? That sucker's in there pretty deep. I tried usin' the Force and everything. But it ain't budgin'. You're just gonna hafta go in their and yank it out. Here, look. Can ya see it? It's in there real deep."

Scratch...not! No! Fight the urge, I must!

Then, Young Skywalker. "Uh, look, Little Y... I was like real careful and spit with your speeder, yo. But, uh, they's this gash, uh, I mean dent on it. A real little tiny dent, yo. But, like, ok, see it wasn't my fault! Fuh real! Nah, see, I just stopped at this Gas n' Slurp to score a Big Gulp, yo. And when I came out, your ride was like dented and spit. Nah, fuh real! I ain't lyin!"

Aaaaaaah! Take it any more I can not!

Before it I knew, ripped up my own clothes in a scratching frenzy I had. From the looks of things, somehow Young Skywalker's clothes too I had ripped. Maybe gotten a little carried away I had. Getting better my rash is not.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Misfire: An Intelligent Debate of Today's Most Important Issues


Welcome to Coruscant News Network's Misfire, a program featuring intelligent, informed debate on today's most important issues. And now, our guest commentators.



On the Right, Jedi Master Mace Windu, well-known for his development of both the Form VII discipline of lightsaber combat and revolutionary break-throughs in skin care.

On the Left, Jedi Master Yoda, who has led the Jedi Council for decades and has been a leading figure in the Equal Rights for Tiny People with Pointy Ears movement.

The issue they will be debating on our program tonight:


Should Intelligent Design be taught in public schools?










Mace Windu There is no need to look any farther than my beautiful, perfect, shiny head to know that someone intelligent had to have a hand in its design. This kind of cranial prettiness did not come about by accident. No sir! Now, if everyone's heads looked like Yoda's, well, then our only hope would be that such design was an accident. But with such irrefutable evidence as that which sits on top of my shoulders, one would have to be stupid or evil to doubt the existence of an Intelligent Designer.

Furthermore, it is rediculous to think that any thing as pretty as me could come from some monkey. I challenge anyone to go out into the jungle and find an ape with such a pretty head as I have. It's not out there, man. While chimps are making snacks out of the crawly things they pick out of each other's nappy heads, I'm moisturizing and exfoliating, thereby making the world a better place for anyone fortunate enough to look at me. Is there a gorilla out there who can match that? I say, is there? Didn't think so.









Yoda Windu, you ignorant Hutt. Personally, in a Creator I believe. But as a teacher, support the teaching of Intelligent Design I can not. Why? Because hard to believe that anything like Windu could have been brought about on purpose, it is. If so, a cruel, cruel joke on the Universe, it was.

Been puzzled by this question, many theologians have, "Create someone like Windu, how could a loving Intelligent Designer?" If able to answer that, religious scholars are not, answer that question for younglings, how can a teacher?

As at the beginning I said, in a Creator I personally believe. But as a teacher, support the teaching of Intelligent Design I can not. Otherwise, forced to blame the Designer for Windu a teacher would be.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Cafeteria Food (The term "food" I use loosely.)

Like eating in the Jedi Temple cafeteria I do not. All of the cafeteria food, the government sends us. If prisoners we fed this food, considered torture it would be.

Prisoner: "You expect me to talk? Ha! You're gettin' nothin' outta me!"

Interrogator: "Oh yeah? How about we make you eat the stewed tomatoes from the cafeteria?"

Prisoner: "Oh God, no! I'll talk! I'll talk! Anything you want to know! Please, just keep those stewed tomatoes away from me!"

Today, dinner in the cafeteria I had. Something grey the lady in the hair net plopped on my tray. At it I looked. Completely shapeless it was. A special process the government has when food they package. Somehow able to extract all of the taste and shape from their food, so that recognize it you can not.

"Exactly what this is?" I asked the hair net lady.

"Barbecue chicken."

"Sure of that you are?"

"That's what it said on the can, Sweetie."

Always "sweetie" or "honey", lunch ladies call people, like related to us they are. But serve their own families this glop they would not. Also, maybe more appetizing the food might seem if a more pleasant sight, the average lunch lady were. But like everyone's Aunt Edna, most lunch ladies look. I think the law it is.

Of course, if exist the Temple cafeteria did not, contain the word "Beefaroni" my vocabulary would not. I suppose grateful for that I should be.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

A Big Decision

Just read Windu's guest post, I have. Sympathetic to his pain, I am. Heard his concerns I have. Sensitive to his needs I am. And what will make him feel better I know - more Force-wedgies! Yes, cheer him up, that will. If not, cheer me up it will. And what's really important that is.

By the way, getting my "clogs tricked" I was not. Clogs I have not! Getting my claws trimmed, I was. That bad, my handwriting is not! Passive-aggressive Windu must be. Know where he gets that, I do not.

Anyway, considering retirement I am. Only thinking about it for the past 830 years I have been. Rush these decisions you can not.

Get the same same joy anymore from smiting down evil doers, I do not. Sure, fun it still is. But produce the same buzz as it used to, it does not. Besides, developing Smiter's Elbow, I am.

As young as I used to be, I am not. Oh, give what I would not if only 540 years old I could be again. Just a young snot, I was then. Still wet behind the ears I was. Hmm, yes, wasted on the young, youth is.

Besides, if retire I do not, drive me into an early grave, Kenobi will. Aged me an extra 20 years, he has. Before the Order he joined, bald I was not! A thick, luxuriant head of hair I had. But, as more annoying Kenobi became, the balder I would get. And just fall out, my hair would not. Much pulling of my own hair I would do. Help it I could not! How Jinn kept his own hippie hair for so long, I know not.

Still, miss all the smiting I would, even if as fun as it used to be it is not. Maybe spice up the smiting for variety I could. Yes, perhaps complacent with my smiting I have become.

Maybe take a few more decades to think about this I should.

Guest Poster: Mace Windu [Topic: Enough Is Enough!]







I just want to go on record to say I hate Force-wedgies! Enough is enough, man! I mean, come on! How much more of my dignity do I have to surrender for this?

That's one of the reasons I started going commando in the first place, because I thought it would help me avoid Force-wedgies. Yeah, I did it mainly for the manly freedom that you can only feel by shedding the shackles of oppression, or as you people call them, undergarments. And I've been freer than free since I made that bold move, my man. But Yoda's ruining it!

I mean, I'll be just walking along, swinging free and proud, whistling the chorus to one of the numbers in "My Fair Lady", reveling in my own prettiness, occasionally touching my face to enjoy the soft silkiness of my fully-moisturized skin - you know, walking on sunshine. Then all of the sudden I'll get this painful sensation of Fruit of the Looms being forced into places it doesn't belong. Do you have any idea how freaky that is when you know you're not wearing any underwear? I mean, do you?

What makes it worse, I'll hear Yoda in the shadows snickering in that annoying little voice of his. You would think after the first 500 times, it would stop being so funny! Not for Yoda, though. It's like those god-awful knock-knock jokes he's told 1000 times. No one laughs when he tells them, but that doesn't matter to him. He cracks himself up every time he tells one of them. "Hee hee hee hee. Oh. Too funny that is. Go pee now I must."

And how am I supposed to maintain my prettiness when my face is all scrunched up in wedgie pain? For God's sake, man, that causes wrinkles! Every time I get one of Yoda's Force-wedgies, I have to step up my already-heavy moisturization and exfoliation regime. That little man does not appreciate how much effort it takes to keep up this level of manly beauty.

I tell you, man, I am about to go crazy! How much of this am I supposed to take?

Anyway, Yoda will be back to talk to you people tomorrow after he gets back from getting his clogs tricked, or whatever this sticky note says.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

The Anatomy of a Force-Wedgie

Very confused some are about how a Force-wedgie I can give Windu when wear underwear he does not. The most confused about this, Windu himself is. Hee hee hee!

The first time a Force-wedgie I gave him, I still remember. Totally unsuspecting he was. Just walking along, whistling show tunes he was, when... "Ow! Hey! What the...?! How the heck...?!"

Hee hee hee hee!

Tell you the secret I might. Trust you can I? I don't know - funny-looking you are. Ok, tell you I will, but tell anyone you must not.

You see, a trick on the mind, the Force-wedgie is. Yes, a matter of "mind over tighty-whities", it is. So even if underwear the victim person has not, still feel like a wedgie he has received, he has. The "phantom wedgie" effect I call this.

Of course, be able to master the Force-wedgie you will not. Centuries of practice it took me before right I got it. But, if ever master this trick you do, use it for good and not evil you must. Unless, of course, talking about Windu, Kenobi, or Young Skywalker we are. Open season on them it is. Knock yourself out, you can.

On Trees Money Grows Not!

Listening to some Dolly I was. My own business I was minding. Bothering no one I was. Like to be interrupted when listening to Dolly I am, I do not.

Care about that Young Skywalker does not. "Yo, G. Wazzup? Listenin' to some Old School again?"

"School-related this is not. Listening to Dolly Parton I am."

"Oh, you listenin' to her for a change." Then, snickering he started as if something clever he had said.

"Something I can help you with, is there?"

"Yeah, Little Y. I need to borrow some ching, yo."

"Ching? What that is? Speak Chinese I do not."

Young Skywalker laughed. "You funny, dawg. So come on. Be cool and slide me a little sumthin' sumthin' before payday, yo."

"Payday? About money are you speaking?"

"Of course, yo! I gots to take my girl- I mean Senator Amidala to, uh, do sumthin'. Yeah, that's right, sumthin' real official, yeah."

"If official it is, pay for it she can. Bother me not."

"Nah, come on, yo. You ain't gots to be like that, being all the cheap-skizzle and spit. What if I want a Slurpee or sumthin'? I can't let no Senator buy me that. I gots to represent, yo."

"Young Skywalker, understand half of what you say, I do not. But 'represent' without my money you will have to."

"Ah, come on, yo..."

"Done what have you with the money that already loaned you I have? Pay me back when were you?"

"Yo, that was for necessitizzies and spit! Check it, I was down to like a two-month supply of my hair-care products, G! What you want me to do? Shave my locks and get all shiny and stuff like Windu?"

"Well, when back you pay me, maybe loan you money again I will."

"Oh, it's like that now, huh? You see a brother down and you just leave him there. Is that how it is, yo?"

"Young Skywalker, brothers we are not. Old enough to be your great-great-great-great-great-grandfather I am. What the heck you are talking about?"

"Yo, just slide me five credits. I'll pay you back."

"On trees, money grows not! A bank I am not! Look like an ATM to you do I? Learn responsibility you must. Take care of your money you do not. Reckless you are. Too much on baggy pants that are too big and Vanilla Ice CDs you spend. To grow up, you need."

"Yo, why you got to be all up in my face like that? I just came here for some help, yo!"

"Done what to earn the money have you? Waxed my airspeeder lately have you? Mowed the grass have you? Clean the gutters. Hmm?"

"Everyone knows that's what younglings are for, G. But check it, you want me to earn it, OK. What you want me to do?"

"A hug Windu needs. Hug him you will."

"Ah no. Ah, Mustafar no. They ain't no way..."

"Wait, more there is. Tell him that you love him, you will."

"Yo. I ain't doin' that, no way."

"Then get the money you will not."

"But, like that doesn't even make sense! You know huggin' Windu is gonna get all ugly and spit. Ain't nobody gonna be feelin' better after that."

"I will, because a big laugh at your expense I will have. The camera I will bring, too."

"This is whack!"

"Ok, if so you say."

"Ow! What you do that for?"

"To whack you, you asked me."

"No, I said this is whack...Ow! Yo, stop! I'm about to bust a cap up in here! Ow! That hurt, yo!"

"A whiner you are. Only a small bruise that left."

"I wasn't asking you to whack me with your geezer cane, G."

"No? My mistake it was. Old I am. Like about to make many more "mistakes" I am, I feel, especially if get out of my room you do not! Come closer."

"Ok, ok. Shuh. I'll get out. Geez.

Know what I'm going to do with Young Skywalker, I do not.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

New Psychological Evaluation for Potential Jedi

Crazy Kenobi is. No, a clinical diagnosis that is not. But take a professional to tell that crazy, Kenobi is, it does not. Offered abundant evidence on this blog that nuttier than a pile of squirrel droppings, Kenobi is.

Some insight, Windu offered, "He's just searching for his inner prettiness is all. Maybe he needs someone to cry with. I know that helps me."

Finally, the voice of reason. Yeah, like all his marbles, Windu has. Sure. Things like sit in front of the mirror early in the morning so that they can see the sun rise over their head, lots of sane people do.

Seriously, start requiring potential Jedi to take psychological evaluations, we must. In fact, a written psychological evaluation test I had our resident Jedi psychologist write up. Below it is:


Psychological Evaluation for Potential Jedi

1. When you find a Cheeto on the floor, you
A) pick it up and throw it away
B) stick it in your beard "for later"
C) do the "Happy Dance"
D) get down on all fours and eat it right away

2. Spending more than seven hours a day on skin care is
A) a little excessive
B) quite reasonable
C) not nearly enough
D) a good amount as long as it doesn't interfere with proper scalp care

3. Professional wrestling is
A) fake
B) absolutely true
C) a fine art form
D) the coolest thing since sliced beer

4. A man fully in touch with his feminine side is
A) kind of creepy
B) desirable
C) a pretty man
D) depends, has he named his feminine side?

5. You wake up with the sniffles. So you
A) blow your nose and get on with your life
B) assume you have Legionnaire's Disease
C) check into the hospital and demand a round of blood tests and an MRI
D) start writing your last will and testament

6. Ernest Goes to Camp was
A) a silly movie
B) the finest movie ever made
C) a really funny movie, even if the plot was too complicated for me to follow
D) hey, don't say anything bad about Ernest, or you and me are going to have to fight

7. My armpit is
A) a part of my anatomy
B) a musical instrument
C) smelling like Cheetos right now for some reason
D) my friend. Say hello, Mr. Stinky!

8. I know I'm sane because
A) I make completely rational decisions at all times
B) the voices in my head tell me I am
C) there's no way a crazy person could belch like I can
D) I'm not crazy. Neither am I.


Help weed out the fruitcakes this should.

Qui-Gon's Plants

Usually when dead someone is, have to do favors for him anymore you do not. Unless, that is, Qui-Gon Jinn that someone is. For the birds, this becoming 'one with the Force' instead of dying stuff is. Teach others to do it I will not. If this trick everyone knew, no rest would I get. Hearing dead Jedi ask me things like, "Yoda, help me move will you? Yoda, feed my cats will you?" all the time, I would.

And just so it happens, the only Jedi that can hear Qui-Gon, I am. Lucky me. Teach Kenobi to commune with Jinn, I must. Bother Kenobi for a while, let him.

Anyway, a package I received yesterday. Plants inside there were. Also a note from Qui-Gon asking me to take care of them there was. Apparently, have enough responsibility already I do not.

You see, know if following their blogs you have been I do not, but temporarily homeless Jinn and JawaJuice are. Follow the story here and here, you can. Bunking with Kenobi they are (hee hee hee!). Fun that should be. Declared a natural disaster area, Kenobi's quarters have been.

Several plants there were. But out two of them stood. The first one I opened. At the label I looked. A "Venus Wookiee Trap" it was. A Wookiee trap?!!! That hungry this thing gets? Keep something like this why would Jinn?! Careful to tuck this thing in a remote corner I was. Going near it anymore than was necessary I was not!

Next, the other plant I opened. Like a peyote cactus it looked. On a shelf I had just set it, when *poof!*, a flash of pink smoke came at me. At that point, many, many colors I started to see. So pretty they were. Also, ever notice before how fascinating the back of my hand is, I had not. Very relaxed I was becoming. All good it was.

Spinning the room was, so staggering around I was. Backing up I was, until a little too far I backed:



















Fortunately, my own bottle of hot sauce I carry around all the time, just in case of emergencies like this one. Well, OK, actually because hot sauce on my food I like, the reason is. I mean, prepare for something like this, who could? So a little hot sauce I poured inside the plant. Like week-old donuts, it coughed me out. Tell you let me, enjoy the slime on my robe I did not! But, worry not. The dry-cleaning bill, Qui-Gon will get!

Note: To publish this last night I tried. But let me do it Blogger would not. 'Server outages' they had. Have to do with blogging what do waiters and waitresses? Stupid Blogger! Hmph!

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Recycle You Must

Much wax, ears my size produce. But just throw away the wax I do not. Evironmentally conscious I am. In recycling I believe. So, an endless supply of candles I have. As if grossed-out by this they are, the other Jedi act. But when out the power in the Temple goes, run to who, do they? Hmm?

Other ways to recycle there are. For instance, you know that big piece of lint that out of the filter in the clothes dryer you pull? Well several pieces I collected. Together I sewed them, and now a quilt I have! Of course, highly flammable it is, so keep it away from the ear-wax candles I must.

And take a look you must at how old socks I use:




Hey, cold in the Winter my ears get. Besides, useful these are when trying to talk to me, Windu is.

So recycle as much as you can, you must. Save the environment you will.

Seen My Keys Have You?

Lost my keys I have. Looked all over for them I have. Under my bed, in my dresser, on my desk, under my desk, in my desk, in my closet, in the refrigerator (hurt it could not and hungry I was), in the lock to the front door, in the lock to the back door, in the kitchen cabinets, in my airspeeder, in between the cushions of my seat in the Council chamber, in the mail box, and in the bathroom I looked.

Then, a meeting with the Chancellor I remembered that I had, so my steps to and from the Senate I re-traced. Produce any results, digging through every trash can along the way did not. So through all of the dumpsters I dug. Still nothing. So the Senate chambers I checked. Approve of this, Palpatine's droids did not. The dumpster odor on me they detected. For a homeless intruder, they confused me. To draw my lightsaber they forced me. New droids Palpatine will need.

Back to the Temple I came. All of the Jedi who were out on assignment I called back. All the Jedi do a systematic search of the temple for my keys, I made. Turn up the keys did not. The authorities put out a general alert to the populace, I had. Still no keys.

Only one thing could this mean. My keys Kenobi took and return them he did not. So out I took Kenobi and with the power washer I sprayed him.

"If where my keys are you tell me, stop this I will," with him I pleaded.

Listen to reason he would not. "Aaaaaaaah! Please stop! I told you, I don't know where your keys are!"

Stubborn Kenobi was being, so more gentle persuasion I decided he needed. But respond to the electro-shock therapy he did not. Now, hanging by his toes I have him.

Go back to him now I must, so that... Wait, in my pocket what this is? Hello, keys. Hmm, get Kenobi down from there I must. Yes, do that right after my nap I must.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

The Name of My Species (and everything else about my people to know you ever wanted)

Curious about my species many people are. Often asked I am, "What the heck you are, anyway?" Understand their curiosity I do not. I should think obvious it is.

However, asked me what I am, many of you readers have as well. So, decided to answer this once and for all I have. Tell you of my species and home planet just this once, I will. After this I tell you, speak of it ever again we shall not.

OK, ready you are? Prepared for the truth are you? Deal with this knowledge you can? See we will.

OK, the name of my species is...

********************
We interrupt this blog post to bring you breaking news live from Galactic Senate Headquarters. And now, Anchor Ber Nardsha.

Ber: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, I'm Ber Nardsha with Coruscant News Network. We have just received word that Chancellor Palpatine may have had scrambled eggs for breakfast this morning. I repeat: Chancellor Palpatine may have had scrambled eggs for breakfast this morning. For more on this, we now take you live to Galactic Senate Headquarters where Senate Correspondent Krispeen Armundhammer is standing by. Krispeen?

Krispeen: Yes, good evening, Ber. Late this afternoon unconfirmed reports started filtering into the bureau here in Coruscant that the Chancellor may have consumed a small quantity of scrambled eggs some time in the early morning hours while in his kitchen. So far, we've not been able to confirm these reports, but several sources close to the Chancellor say that they believe that he did in fact ingest some sort of scrambled egg at some point today.
A press conference called by the Chancellor's office is due to start any time now. It is widely believed that this press conference has been called for the purpose of either confirming or denying these reports. Oh, here's the Chancellor now. It looks like the press conference has begun. Let's listen in to what the Chancellor has to say.

Chancellor Palpatine: Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I have the following statement to make. After which, I will not be answering any questions at this time. Thank you.
At approximately 6:17 this morning while in the vicinity of my kitchen table, I began the consumption of two scrambled eggs. Said consumption was completed at or around 6:30 am, resulting in only a minor case of gas. The ensuing washing of dishes, silverware, cooking utensils, and one glass was completed at approximately 6:45 am.
There have been preliminary reports in the Press that hot sauce or at least one occurance of turkey bacon may have accompanied the scrambled eggs in question. I can state unequivocally that these reports are absolutely untrue. Let me repeat: there was absolutely no occurance of either hot sauce or turkey bacon in tandem with the scrambled eggs consumed this morning.
That is all I have to say at this time. I will not be answering any questions. Thank you.
*Walks away*

Reporter 1: Chancellor! Chancellor! Do you believe this incident will prolong the Clone Wars?

Reporter 2: Chancellor! Will your new preference towards scrambled eggs affect your foreign policy in any way?

Krispeen: And there you have it. The Chancellor has confirmed that he did in fact ingest scrambled eggs this morning for breakfast. I am sure that there will be speculation in the days and weeks to come as to whether the Chancellor plans to expand this "scrambled egg initiative" to include omelettes or even egg salad sandwiches. But all we can confirm for now is that the Chancellor did in fact eat scrambled eggs this morning.
Ber?

Ber: Krispeen, has there been any word yet on how this might affect the ongoing talks between the Republic and the Cold Cereal Coalition?

Krispeen: Well, Bur, as of 7:45 pm Coruscant Standart Time, the Cold Cereal Coalition had not yet made any official comments on these recent developements. However, sources inside the Coalition have stated they believe their leadership will adopt a "wait-and-see" attitude until it becomes clear whether or not the Chancellor will aggressively pursue this new egg policy, or continue to maintain the status quo in regards to breakfast foods.

Ber: Thank you, Krispeen. That was Krispeen Armundhammer reporting from Galactic Senate Headquarters on Coruscant.
To sum up, and for those of you just joining us, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine has just confirmed that he did indeed ingest scrambled eggs early this morning. We'll be watching this story around the clock in order to bring you continuing coverage as it developes.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog, already in progress.
********************

...So, everything you probably ever wanted to know about my species, that is. Glad to get it off my chest I am. Also glad I am that finally laid to rest, this mystery can be.

Of course, as before I said, never speak of this again we must.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Windu's Retribution

Pay for tricking me into taking that basic English class, Windu had to. Let him get away with it, I could not. A dangerous precedent that would set.

Still handle this like the mature, dignified Jedi Master I am, I had to. So into his room I snuck and his head shining cream I replaced with Novicane.

Pretty soon, running down the halls and screaming like a little girl he was, yelling, "I can't feel my head, my pretty shiny head!"

"Calm down, Windu. I..."

"Calm down? Calm down? You don't understand, man! I've lost all communication with my beautiful cranium! It's stranded there. Tell me the truth man, is I my head is still there?"

"Of course, still there, your head is. Worrying about nothing you are."

"Then it's the Naboosian Fever-Flu!...Or a brain tumor! Oh my Force, I have a brain tumor! How could this happen to me? Why? Oh God, why? Get it out! Get it out! I'm too pretty to die!"

Listen the doofus would not. Trying to help him I was. Still, all the way to the Temple infirmary, I followed him.

The first time I ever heard a medical droid sigh, it was. "Yes, Master Windu, what seems to be the problem this time? An enlarged prostate? Legionnaire's Disease? I've told you already that it's quite impossible for you to have ovarian cysts. You don't even have ovaries, you know."

"This is serious, Man. I can't feel my head! Tell me the truth, doc. It's a tumor, isn't it? How long do I have? You can tell me, man."

"I'm sure it's not a tumor, Master Windu. Now, if you would kindly..."

"Are you sure? Because I read on the Internet..."

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't look up possible diseases on the Internet any longer, Master Windu. Any way, we'll run some tests to try to determine the problem, ok?" the droid said as slipping on some rubber gloves he was, "Now, bend over, please."

Know that medical droids had such long arms, I did not. Howling in agony the whole time, Windu was. "Oh God, it hurts!"

"Well, your tonsils seem to be alright," the droid said as, uh, pulling out it was.

Next, a long battery of painful and humiliating tests the droid subjected Windu to. Gauging how Windu's body responed to high-volatage electrical currents, many of the tests involved. I guess that mention the Novicane at some point, I could have. But like to interrupt someone who is working I do not.

Finally, done the droid was. "Well, Master Windu I've decided to write you a perscription for a very powerful medication called Oxy Moron. You'll need to take it three times a day after meals. I should tell you about the side-effects, though - shakiness, night sweats, hallucinations, uncontrollable bladder, socially debilitating halitosis, possible heart attack, severe acne, possible blindness, constant drooling, warts, hemorroids, swollen hands, and rampant body odor. And, of course, it's highly addictive, so you'll need to check into a rehab program if you ever want to come of the medication."

"But it will cure me so I can feel my head again?"

"Why would you expect it to do that?"

A twinge of guilt about this I thought I felt for a second. But, fortunately, just indigestion it was.

Back of the Class

Tricked I was! Fooled! Conned! Bamboozled!

"I've enrolled you in a Salsa dance class." Windu said. So excited I was. Finally a chance to improve my Salsa moves, I would have. But to be it was not. Known that Windu would use my love of hot Latin dance against me, I should have.

The first clue that a Salsa class this was not was how the teacher looked. A frumpy old professor-looking man wearing thick eye glasses and a sweater vest, the teacher was. Everyone knows that attractive, all Salsa instructors are. The law it is, I think.

Also, it looked like the only student who didn't need a visa to be on Coruscant, I was.

Then to us, the teacher spoke, "Good evening class, and welcome to Basic English 101."

No!!!!! To get me to take this stupid class, Windu had been trying for months. Tried to tell him I have, that nothing wrong with the way I talk there is. Been talking this way for almost 900 years I have. Maybe something wrong with the way everyone else talks, there is!

Painful this was.

"Repeat after me class," the teacher said, "The rain on Quarain falls mainly in the plane."

"Mainly in the plane the rain on Quarain falls," I repeated.

Like that, the teacher did not. "No, no, no. You've put the adverbial phrase at the beginning of the sentence before the subject, instead of after the verb which it modifies. That confuses the sentence structure entirely and disrupts the rhythm."

"Look, understand a single word you just said I did not. But just repeating what you told us to say I was. Know what your problem is, I do not."

"Fine. Just listen carefully this time and repeat exactly what I say. The rain on Quarain falls mainly in the plane."

"Mainly in the plane the rain on Quarain falls."

"No!"

"What?!"

"Ok, fine. Let's start with something more basic shall we? A simple introduction. 'Hello, my name is...'." Then to me he pointed.

"Know what your name is I do not."

"No, tell me your name. Go ahead. 'Hello, my name is...'."

"Oh. Hello, Yoda my name is."

"No. My name is Yoda."

"Really? A coincidence that is! Never met another person..."

"No! What you should have said is 'My name is Yoda'."

"What I said, that was."

"No, you said, 'Yoda my name is.'"

"Yes. What I said, that was. Want me to make up a name do you? The only name I have, that is."

"Ok, let's try something different. How about a question? 'What is your name?'"

"Already told you my name I have."

"No. Say it."

"Say what?"

"'What is your name?'"

"Already told you I have. Forgotten already have you?"

"No! Ask me."

"Ask you what?"

"What my name is!"

"What, your name is?"

"No!"

"'No', your name is? Your first or last name that is?"

"That's not my name!"

"But what you just said, that was."

"No, you didn't ask me the question properly!"

"Mean what question do you?"

"'What's your name?'"

"Yoda it is! Told you several times now I have. Getting annoying this is."

"No! What's my name?!"

"Supposed to know your name how am I? Tell me you will not!"

For two hours this conversation went on. Pretty sure I am that supposed to last that long, class was not.

Finally, one last question for the rest of the students, the teacher had, "Ok class, all together now, repeat the phrase you learned at the beginning."

In unison the class said, "Mainly on the plane the rain in Quarain falls."

Ever seen a grown man cry like that I have not. Not even Windu. At least not yet. When for tricking me into taking this class Windu pays, maybe a different story it will be.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Long Hot Summer

About to end, Summer is and glad I am. Now almost nine months there will be when sweat so much Kenobi will not. Like a fountain he is. Especially bad it is since rarely he bathes. Go into detail about his odor I will not. But say this I will - stepped in things that smell better than Kenobi, I have.

When stand the smell no longer we can, Windu and Young Skywalker tackle him and hold him down while thoroughly with the pressure washer I spray him. Wild he becomes - loudly he yells, and desparately he struggles. Wet we all get. Like bathing a St. Bernard, it is.

In addition to Kenobi's lack of hygiene, developing among the Jedi during the Summer, another disturbing trend there is. Around the Temple in little more than their underwear a lot of the Jedi walk. Of course, as said before I have, all the way down to his tighty-whities Kenobi goes. But now when warm it gets, too far behind Kenobi, the other Jedi are not! And tell you let me, a pretty sight it is not! Better left hidden, some secrets are, if what I mean you know.

To institute a "Naked Day" at the Temple, Windu wanted. Lunatic. Fortunately, that idea the rest of the Council shot down quickly. Want to look at Windu's "love handles" we did not. Like a jelly doghnut he is - soft in the middle. Less time in front of the mirror, and more time at the Temple gym, he needs. Put down the moisturizer he should so that do some sit-ups he can.

Of course, look so great without clothes I do not. Used to point, some things did. Now droop or sag they do. Spare you the details I will. But, look so good when almost 900 years old you reach, you will not! Hmph!

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Going to Eat That, Are You?

On a diet I am. Trying to eat healthier I am. No more Ben and Jerry's ice cream, Ho-Ho's, Quarter-Pound McBurgerbras with cheese, late-night pizza; no junk food of any kind do I eat. Trying to eat lots of vegetable, fruits, whole-grains, and fish I am. Killing me it is!

"Oh, but if this way you eat, longer you will live," my doctor tells me. Maybe live longer by eating this way you can. But want to who would? Besides, lived almost 900 years I have. Living in the bonus round already I am!

A meeting with Jar Jar I had today. About something important he actually had to talk. A very serious conversation he had with me. Significant points about the security of Naboo he had. But what he would taste like with barbecue sauce, all I could think of was.

If get my hands on a bucket of Kamino Fried Chicken soon I do not, be responsible for my actions I will not. Serious I am. Know what I will do, I do not.

Monday, September 12, 2005

A Monkey I Am Not!

Bananas I like, but eat them I will not. Every time eat one I try, a monkey joke someone makes. A monkey I am not!

Like to see a monkey do my job I would! A hard time handling a lightsaber he would have. Met a monkey who could fight a Sith Lord I have not!














What?!!


OK, well, sit on the Jedi Council a monkey can not! Much too serious that is. Only the most qualified of Jedi...










What the - ? My chair that is!!


To find out what was going on, I had to. So Young Skywalker I asked.

"All day around the temple this monkey walked, and notice no one did?"

"Yo, that was a monkey? We all thought it was you, G."

What?! Force-wedgies for everyone! Hmph!

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Young Skywalker's Big Smelly Shoes

Ever noticed have you, how big Young Skywalker's feet are? Noticed I have because his humongous shoes he leaves all over the Temple. Never away he puts them. At least, since so big they are, trip over them I will not. Blind you would have to be not to notice them.

Gun boats, his shoes are. Of that nursery rhyme, 'The Woman Who Lived in a Shoe', it reminds me. Have plenty of room for all her younglings in one of Young Skywalker's shoes, she would. That is, if succumb to the fumes, she did not.

Tell you let me, worse than Kenobi's sock drawer Young Skywalker's shoes smell. And saying a lot that is. For instance, a canary we used to have. Once, under the canary's cage, Young Skywalker left his shoes. Instantly, the canary died. A chance it had not.

Today, tired of Young Skywalker leaving his freakishly-huge boots all over the place, I was. A lesson I decided to teach him. So, appropriate precautions against the odor I took, and inside one of his shoes I hid (Yes, that big it is). Then, when about to put his shoe on he was -


















BOO!

Hee hee hee hee! A new pair of Spider-Man underoos Young Skywalker needed after that. Hee hee hee hee!

Dealing With the Fuel Crisis

Too expensive, speeder fuel is now. Afford to drive my airspeeder I can not. But take the bus I will not! Like I do not being in physical contact with that many people at once. Besides, smelly the bus is. And want to know why so sticky the floor is, I do not.

Fortunately, many younglings at my disposal there are. Only two or three of them at a time to tote me around, it takes. "Special training it is," I tell them. Ah, the minds of Younglings. So gullible they are.

Of course, as motivated as others, some are not.

"Master Yoda, my legs are tired."

Whiner. "Go faster you must, Harvey, or more tired your legs will be. Longer to make the trip it will take, if slow down now you do."

"But my arms hurt."

"Then hurry you better. Sooner to the drycleaner's we get, the sooner that put me down you can."

"I have to pee."

"Only 17 more blocks to go, we have. Go when we get there, you can."

"When do we get to eat?"

"If get home in time we do not, no time to make dinner will there be. Have to eat bantha brains and wookiee snot we will. Want to eat that do you? Hmm? Then go faster you must." (Actually fed those items to younglings I have not. But know that, Harvey does not. Besides, motivated by his stomach, he is. Missing the dinner bell someday, his biggest anxiety is. Threatening his dinner, the quickest way to get him to do anything is.)

As see you can, very motivational, I can be.

Friday, September 09, 2005

Adventures on Reality TV

On that TV show "Survivor: Tatooine" I was recently. There too, a lot of my fellow bloggers were. Been keeping up with our adventures on this blog, have you?

An excerpt from my latest post there, this is:

Difficult to do a challenge with a love-sick bantha following you around all the time, it can be. Think I'm his mother or something Bob must, because stop following me he will not! Blind he is, so know how he can tell where I am, I do not. Tell you I can, crowded in the cave it has become.

Asked the show's producers to take Bob away, I have. But evil they are. They think that funny it is. So take him away they will not! Stupid producers!

Anyway, another stupid challenge they gave us. Build a wind-surfer and surf across the sand, we were supposed to. Next, what is? Cross-country skiing through Mos Eisley?

Read more here, you can.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Get Caller ID We Must

Every day at the Jedi Temple phone calls we get from this female:


Reba the Hutt, her name is. Married to Bubba the Hutt she is. The same thing every time she asks.

Reba: "Is my old man over there?"

Me: "No, Mrs. the Hutt, seen him I..."

Reba: "Well, he better not be! I told him to stop hangin' around that Kenobi feller."

Me: "Yes, completely I under..."

Reba: "You tell that no good son-of-a-Wookiee that he better get his butt back home if he knows what's good for him."

Me: "But seen him I have no..."

Reba: "He needs to be home and be a father to these five kids. You think I can raise these brats by myself? I need some help around here, you know."

Me: "Of course, that..."

Reba: "Here we are, none of the cars in our yard run, the roof on the trailer is leaking, the TV is broke, so I can't watch Oprah, and does he care? He's probably out with that Kenobi idiot at some monster truck show or wrestlin' match or some such garbage. And here I am, gotta put up with all this crap, and I'm out of beer! What kind of husband is that?"

Me: "Hard for you.."

Reba: "And the yard! The yard looks terrible. It ain't been mowed in months. I mean the grass is so high, I ain't seen the dog in three days. I can hear him howlin', though. That no good man of mine needs to get back home so he can find that dog before it dies from starvation in our yard."

Me: "Yes, terrible that..."

Reba: "I mean it's still a week until we get our regular check from the government, and he's out spending what little we got on his loser buddies when he needs to be home trying to trade our food stamps for chewin' tobacco."

Me: "Yes, well..."

Reba: "I'm getting sick of his garbage, you understand? He needs to take care of his family. Try to make a better life for us, maybe get us moved into a new double-wide. We've been in this dump for six years and he ain't even took the wheels off yet. What do I have to do..."

Me: "YeswellseenhimIhavenotbutgivehimyourmessageIwillifseehimIdogoodbye!"

*Click*

Get caller ID, we must.

Shivering I Am

Cold it gets in the temple. Always messing with the thermostat, Kenobi is. So always blowing at full steam, the air conditioner is. Hang meat in here, you could.

But good my circulation is not. The shivers I get. A nice even temperature I need. Apparently, care Kenobi does not! Just this morning, losing the feeling in my toes, I was. Helping, my Scooby-Doo slippers were not. Turning into a Yodacicle, I was.

"Kenobi!" I yelled.

Running in he came. "Yep?"

"Mess with the thermostat again, did you?"

"No."

With my cane I whacked him.

"Ouch!"

"Lie to me do not! See the orange, Cheetos-encrusted fingerprints on the thermostat I can! Take me for what kind of idiot do you?"

"I dunno. What kinds of idiots are there?... Ouch!"

"Told you before I have to leave the thermostat alone. Do what you are told you can not?"

"It's too hot in here! It's the middle of Summer for cryin' out loud!"

"Kenobi, around the temple in your tighty-whities you walk. Possibly be that hot you can not. Poor circulation I have. Even care, do you?"

"OK, OK! Gosh, I'll turn it up. Sheesh!" Kenobi said as the thermostat he started to adjust. "Uh, uh-oh."

"What, Kenobi? What it is?"

"I think the thermostat is broken."

"What? The thermostat you broke?!"

"I didn't say I broke the... OUCH!"

"Call Young Skywalker. Fix it he can. Call me when fixed it is. And touch it anymore do not!"

"Where are you going, Master?"

"Going to sit in the fridge I am. Warmer in there it is. Oh, before I forget, in case see you again soon, I do not, something to give you I have."

"What is it?"

"Lean closer."

"OUCH!"

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Proper Wookiee Care

"Get your Wookiee spayed or neutered you should." Hmph! Easier said than done this is, tell you let me! Know what he is talking about, that game show host Bobba Parkair does not. Like to see him wrestle a full-grown Wookiee all the way to the vet, I would!

Sense where you are taking him, a Wookiee can. Tell him you can that taking him to get ice cream you are (Wookiees love ice cream), but believe you he will not. Your number he has. Fooling him you are not.

Half-way to the vet's office, try to jump out of the air speeder he will. That is, if already torn off your arms he has not. Expect lots of biting and scratching you can.

Taken Chewbacca to "get fixed" yet, I have not. But taken him to get his shots, I have, and trouble enough that was! Into my airspeeder I lured him with Twinkies. Resist Twinkies, he can not. Eat them while still in the wrapper they are, he will. But after a while, where we were going he figured out. Then crazy he went! Completely torn up, the interior of my speeder was. Scratched up pretty bad, I was too!

Like to get shots, he does not. A big baby he is. Face down droid armies he will, but take a needle in the arm he will not. His hand I had to hold as his other hand over his eyes he held. Then, a Wookiee biscuit the vet gave him, and 'what a brave little soldier he was' he told them. Brave he was not! The scars to prove that, I have!

Sunday, September 04, 2005

Guest Poster: Mace Windu [Topic - Realness]







So I was having a heart-to-heart conversation with Yoda the other day. I was pouring my heart out, man. I needed his listening ear, his big pointy listening ear.

Yoda and I go way back. But we don't get to share our feelings very often. So I wanted to really bond with the dude, I mean connect on a spiritual level with the man. I wanted to bond in a way that only two sensitive men can, you understand?

There could be hugging, there could be crying, there could be some real, honest soul-bearing. But it was going to be real. I mean really real. Not like the "real" in the reality shows on TV, where people pretend to be real then claim they were not being real but that they were being "in character", like that Omarosa person. That's not real, man. Where's the crying? Where's the hugging? Where's acknowledgement of each other's prettiness?

That's not the way it was going to be between Yoda and me the other day. I was going to have some real realness, some honesty - honesty so honest that all your insides hurt from telling so much truth. I just knew that Yoda and I were going to share.

Boy, was I disappointed.

Here's how the conversation went -

Mace: So when I was moisturizing for the fourth time yesterday - no, the fifth time, yeah, the fifth time. Or was it the fourth time? No, it was the fifth time. I remember now, because I usually soak my feet during the fifth time. Anyway, it occured to me when I was moisturizing that I wasn't paying enough attention to my exfoliation regimen! I mean, here I am, moisturizing all the time, but almost ignoring the exfoliation aspect of skin care! So I .... Yoda! Are you sleeping?












Yoda: Hm? No, no. Resting my eyes I was. Listening I am. Go on you can.

Mace: What was I talking about?

Yoda: Talking about moisture-farming the foliage on your skin, you were. Continue you can. Listening I am.

A little later...

Mace: ...and I started thinking, how shiny is too shiny? Is there such a thing as too shiny? My head has such a beautiful gleam already. Could I upset the balance? Do I dare take it to the next level? Am I emotionally prepared for that? I mean it was just so... Yoda!










Zzzzz

Yoda: Huh? Yes, yes, shiny your emotions are.

Mace: You were asleep! You were even snoring!

Yoda: No, no. Mistaken you are. Snore I do not. Having a bout of Hay Fever I am. Noises my sinuses make. Go on. Listening I am.

A few seconds later...

Mace: ... I realized I was feeling guilty about being such a pretty man, like I didn't even deserve my own prettiness! I mean, what a break-through, you know? I ... Yoda!


















Yoda: Why Dolly, know you were so frisky I did not. Hee hee!


Mace: Yoda! Wake up!















Yoda: What? Awake I am. See, open my eyes are. Been listening I have. Stay awake I will.















Zzzzzz


I give up, man!

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Mashed Potatoes, Kenobi, and Scrabble

Playing Scrabble with Kenobi I was today. But first, like to tell you about a great product you should know about, I would...

< commercial endorsement>Been very hot it has. Buckets, I sweat. Stained under the arms my robe can get. Very embarrasing it can be. That's why Force Guard w/Extra Sith Protection I use. Strong enough for a man it is, PH balanced for a tiny green person it is. Now the confidence I have to raise my arm when smiting down the Dark Side I am.</commercial endorsement>

Pay for the Dolly CDs some way, I have to. Expense it to the Jedi Order I can not, especially since caught me that one time the Order's accountants had.

Anyway, playing Scrabble with Kenobi I was today. Had a labotomy first I should have so that fair it would be.

"Spelled k-a-t, 'cat' is not, Kenobi."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Kenobi, sure I am."

"But it sounds like 'kat'."

"Spelled with a 'c' it is."

"Oh! Good! I have a 'c'!"

"No, Kenobi, spelled 'kac' it is not either."

"This game is hard! How d'ya come up with big words like that?" he said. Pointing at the last word I laid down, he was.

" 'Surf' you mean?"

"Yeah, you gotta dictionary for a brain or somethin'?"

"Kenobi, I really think more reading you should do."

"I read!"

"Talking about the back of your Cap'n Typho cereal box, I am not. Talking about actual books I am."

"I got lots of books."

"Count, coloring books do not. Books with words that you actually read, I am talking about."

"I just got done readin' a book with actual words this mornin'!"

"Really? Good for you! Called what it was?"

"What?"

"Called what it was? The title what was?"

"Um...Wonder Wookiee, Issue 45."

"A comic book, known I should have. Actually read the words did you, or just look at the pictures did you?"

"Uh, well, I uh,"

"Mm hmm, just what I thought. Kenobi, turned into mashed potatoes your brain has."

"Mmmm... mashed potatoes."

"Focus, Kenobi. Besides, talking about the good creamy mashed potatoes I am not. Talking about the gritty, tasteless, instant kind I am. Want your brain to be gritty instant mashed potatoes do you?"

"No?" To think about this for a few seconds before answering he had to. Still, sure he was not.

"Of course you do not, Kenobi. That's why assigning you to read this book I am." A book I handed him.

"You're givin' me home work? I'm a grown man! I don't have to do it if I don't want to!"

"Of course, right you are, Kenobi. Your choice it is."

"Good."

"Your choice it is. Read this book you can, or get sprayed more with the pressure washer you can."

"But, do you know how many times I've tried to get through that book? It's so long! And all the big words! It's impossible!"

"Faith in you I have, Kenobi. Get through this you can. Besides, know what happens to Curious George how can you if get to the end you do not?"

Due next week, his book report is. Looking forward to that, I am not. Really time for me to retire it is.

Friday, September 02, 2005

A Better Pill I Need

Very tired lately I am. Doing much smiting down of evil minions, I have been. Very exhausting it can be.

So taking multi-vitamins I am now. Shaped like cartoon characters they are. The grape-flavored ones I like best. I think the healthiest for you, the grape-flavored ones are.

Maybe take those pills they advertise on TV, I should. You know, the ones for "male enhancement". Some kind of extra-strong multi-vitatmin that is? Enhances your energy does it? Smarter it makes you? Better looking? Some kind of super power maybe? Come in grape-flavor does it? All I know is, very happy the man in the commercial looks.

Also, this powder they advertise that supposed to make you "regular" it is. Know about that I do not. I think a regular person already I am. A little short I am, and green, but too irregular that is not, is it?

I think maybe stick to my cartoon vitamins I will.

Fed Up I Am

Why I bother I know not. What I do, no one appreciates. Fed up I am. Very hard I work around here.

For instance, care enough to regularly discipline Kenobi with the pressure washer, who else does? Go through the trouble of keeping everyone in line with Force-wedgies, who else will? To smack Windu's head when too much of a girlie-man he is, who bothers? Hard work it is to force the Younglings to keep up the yard. Very exhausted I got the other day watching them dig that irrigation ditch. Yet force the Younglings to finish it, I did. See? I give and give, and nothing back I receive.

But grateful are these doofuses for all I do to for them? Of course not! Not once, thank me for a single Force-wedgie a single Jedi has. Instead, all I get, attitude is. Ingrates!

Just once, like to hear I would, "Master Yoda, to thank you I want for pointing out to everyone what a doofus I am. If done that you had not, still a doofus I would be."

Instead, Kenobi blowing spit wads at me during Council meetings I get. Short jokes I put up with. Called "Green Riddle Monkey" by Young Skywalker, I am. Moved by my unselfishenss, these people are not.

Evidently use the pressure washer and administer Force-wedgies a bit more I must. Move them to gratitude, that will.

Hmph!

Thursday, September 01, 2005

The Dark Side These Things Are

Very pervasive, the Dark Side is. Which explains why so popular reality TV is. Anyway, for your benefit, compiled a list of five things that are the Dark Side I have. Avoid them you must.

The Dark Side These Things Are:

Eating With Your Mouth Open. Listen, Kenobi, fall for the "Like seafood do you?" question anymore I will not! Disgusting that is. Eat it you should. Wear it you should not. Have to look at it, I should not.

Anything That Says "Starring Mary Kate and Ashley Olson". Turn to pudding your brain will after one of their movies you watch. Also, always together in the same movie or television show they have to be. This is because so little they weigh that both of them to equal one whole person it takes.
Besides, if seen one of their movies you have, seen them all you have. The exact same plot they have, just a different city they take place in. Take my word for it, you can. Seen all of their movies, I have... uh, for research! Yes, it that is. For research on the Dark Side, it was. Judge me not!

Country Line Dancing. Yes, a fan of country music I am. But tell you let me that no good reason for so many rhythm-deprived rednecks to dance at one time, there can be. Come from that, no good can.
Besides, unless branding cattle or breaking in a horse you are, wear a cowboy hat you should not! Fooling no one into believing a cowboy you are. Also, say your name or be bigger than your head, your belt buckle should not. My feelings on the matter those are.

Printing Out Your Emails. Nothing like printing out your emails says, "Know how to use a computer I do not." You see, when to you emails come, in a handy place they can be seen - on your computer! Died a senseless death, many noble trees have because willing to learn your computer you were not.

Talking On Your Cell Phone In the Bathroom. Want to speak to you while taking a dump you are, I do not! A solitary activity that is... except for some people in nursing homes, but the point that is not. More than willing to wait I am.