There's nothing you smoke or shoot up that hasn't been brought to you by an "adopted" Indian boy.

In the prequels chocolate's made.

That's a highly provocative statement.

2031: Leaving Mos Eisley: a stormtrooper sinks into alcoholism and depression as he begins to realise those were the droids he was looking for after all.

Tarkin: Outmoffed

"Indian" counts as a disability in Hollywood.

I demand a movie about whoever got to ride around in Boba Fett's cool ship after Boba Fett got his stupid ass killed.

Han shot first.

"You know, Tarkin, you're a pretty good Moff. But you'll never be a Grand Moff."

Yeah, it's really… *looks up Wikipedia for whatever records Oasis may have done after that. Jesus, that many?*

That whole story left a bad taste in the mouth.

Good, but not that good.

Oh goody, now I'm gonna be humming "Centipede" all night.

Look left. Look right. Good teenagers!

Can he dance?

Ain't nobody got time for that.

Then she posed nude for Playboy and made a softcore lesbian porno. We didn't realise how good we had it back then!

*cranks up Aerosmith*

ENTERRR!!! *spits oatmeal*

Posted from the badly listing deck of the San Telmo.