Not that long ago, at a Starbucks not too far away, Chewbacca tried to order a Venti Caramel Macchiato.
“Welcome to Starbucks, sir! What can I get for you today?” The young female barista said rather enthusiastically.
“I’m sorry, sir. Could you please repeat that?” The barista leaned over the counter.
“Grrrrhh! Grrrh! Grrrr!”
Chewbacca pointed at the menu.
“Um… do you want a tall black coffee?” The barista furrowed her brow.
Chewbacca shook his head then pointed at a different section of the menu.
“Oh… um… do you want a frappucino?” The barista grew anxious.
Chewbacca shook his head again. He looked agitated.
“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t really understand you. I don’t speak Wookie.”
The barista said sympathetically.
“Oh… how rude of me. I am sorry, dear girl. I often forget that not everyone speaks my native tongue.”
Chewbacca suddenly spoke perfect English.
“That’s… okay, sir.” The barista was dumbfounded.
“I will have a Venti Caramel Macchiato with extra whipped cream. Oh and a chocolate biscotti.”
Chewbacca smiled slightly.
“Okay, sir. Your total is $11.50.” The barista wrote CHEWBACCA in black sharpie on a cup.
“Do you per chance accept Wookie bucks?” Asked Chewbacca.
“Um… no. No we don’t, sir.”
The barista looked annoyed.
Chewbacca cried out in anger then quickly hopped back into the Millenium Falcon and took off at light speed.
The next day, management posted a sign that read: ‘WE DO NOT ACCEPT WOOKIE BUCKS!’
Eventually, Chewbacca sued Starbucks for discrimination and was awarded 10 million dollars and free Starbucks coffee for life.
Hey, you! Why are you reading this? Are you bored or something? Did somebody or something force you to read this? I sincerely hope not but whatever.
As long as you are reading this I might as well tell you about the time I found a green Twinkie underneath my living room couch. It was a warm spring afternoon and I was engrossed in the latest page turner by R.L. Stine. I suddenly had a craving for something sweet.
So I dashed off into the kitchen and browsed through the pantry. My eyes fell upon a bag of half eaten tortilla chips, a mini box of cornflakes and two cans of cranberry sauce. I walked back to the living room disappointed but still hopeful.
Something then urged me to check under the couch. I don’t know what exactly but it might have been the Twinkie fairy. I struggled to lift the couch at first but then successfully flipped it over onto its backside. When I looked down at the carpet I immediately noticed the divine presence of the still wrapped Twinkie.
The plastic wrapper came off quite easily. Just as I was about to shove the golden cake into my mouth I noticed it was not so golden. In fact, it was a bright shade of green. I sniffed it for a minute… it smelled fine. I bit off a quarter sized piece of it and chewed slowly then swallowed. It tasted all right.
I then took a much bigger bite into it and the cream filling exploded into my mouth like a strong ocean current. That’s when I realized the cream filling is what turned green and rancid and thus infected the rest of the Twinkie. A steady stream of green vomit poured out of my mouth and onto the carpet!
I cleaned up the pile of puke as best I could and replaced the couch over the stain. It has been exactly seven years since I last looked under the couch.
I’m pretty sure the stain is still there.
Mojave is a decent movie without a plot. It’s more of a character study than anything else.
Oscar Isaac gives an interesting performance as a murderous drifter. Garrett Hedlund gives a lackluster performance as a successful artist in the midst of an existential crisis.
Both men encounter each other in the Mojave desert and quickly become enemies. There’s really not much else to this movie.
I can’t help but wonder if a lot of crucial scenes were cut due to time constraints. Both characters just seemed too underdeveloped. They are like two halves of the same whole. Unless, that’s what the director and/or writer was going for.
I give Mojave three out of five stars. ⭐⭐⭐
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We were meant
To do battle
With the Ego
Insane anomalous disclosures scraped together those hostile fortresses of which there is no basis in truth.
Forget them, forget us. Red realities keep our minds infused with diagonal yearnings. Lust is somewhat of a must.
You are such a beautiful creation, such a beautiful person.
You deserve something compatible, someone compatible with your emotional intelligence.
The world darkens now. Light emerges then shines down upon my everlasting love for all things impermanent.
The more I see you, the happier I become.
People dig graves