Guest Poster-Dooku: The Music Man

Well, things seem to be turning out for the better of late. My old padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn has returned from the Æther after a long sabbatical and instantly we fell into our old ways. It was good to immerse myself back in our old music. Not only has he been inspired to write new songs, but he also knows how to make the damn coffee maker work. (Instant coffee is such deplorable stuff!) For days now we have been in this little recording studio familiarizing ourselves with our old music as well as working on a bit of new stuff. Very exhilarating, I must say.

Perhaps when we feel we are once again at our peak of skill, we should perform a rather overdue reunion tour of sorts. I hear the Durr-T Hip-E system still holds a festival every June in our honor. It would be a shame to disappoint our loyal fan base.

Unfortunately, at our age, it does take considerably longer to arrive at a professional level of performance than it once did. And although Qui-Gon is a master word smith when it comes to the lyrics, I however, now take a bit more time to come up with just the right sound for our new songs. I feel like something is missing.

It was then that a young gentleman who has wanted to kill me by the name of Anakin Skywalker appeared on our front door late one evening.

“Oh dear, I suppose you want the other hand chopped off now?” I asked rather coyly.

“No, no. Check it. I hear youz guys are getting the band back together and spit. So I hads ta speed on over here with my instrument. C’mon! I always wanted to be inna band. Let me join, man. I’ll make it worth yours while.”

“I’m afraid this isn’t a rap band, my young Jedi hooligan.”

“Shuh! I knows that. I gots my instrument right here.”

“And what, pray tell, is your instrument?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Tuba!!”

Oh dear. Maybe I should have cut off his lips instead.

Guest Poster-Dooku: The More You Know...About Yoda

Dear, dear me. It’s so unpleasant to bring up the ghastly underbelly of someone else’s seedy side; I almost hate to do it. But I am, after all, a card carrying member of the dark side so I suppose it would be in my nature.

It seems there is a general misconception of Yoda these days; one of a wholesome, grandfatherly gentleman who parcels out advice and offers help when needed. This, of course, is a façade. Master Yoda and myself go back a long ways and I can tell you with the utmost truthfulness that he is not the roll model most make him out to be. (Sorry old chap, but the world deserves to know the truth.)

You see, ol Yoda isn’t the Jedi he use to be. I dare say, his metaclorine count has been drastically declining of late. No wonder all he does is administer force wedgies. Such tactics require only a smidgen of the force to pull off. He has been reduced to nothing more than a nursemaid to other sub par Jedi. I hear he even has a blind bantha for a pet (or is it Obi-Wan. So hard to tell, these days.)

His past is nothing to be proud of either. Take for instance, this picture where he is partaking in smoking spice.

That’s just wrong. Everyone knows the best way to partake in spice is to bake it in brownies.

This, of course was a throwback to his earlier days as a beatnik. Ugh! Those clothes should be enough to warrant charges with the galactic senate.

He’s been a pimp...

He’s even used steroids.

And the worst offence of all, he’s been know to indulge in cow tipping.

I’m sorry to have to bring this to the forefront of all you readers out there. I know it hurts to discover the failings of a beloved roll model, but it’s for your own good.

I hope you can all rest well now.

I know I’ll need a valium after this.

Tally-ho!

G.P.-Dooku: The fine art of separatist hook-ups

Good evening to you all. And what a smashing evening it's bound to be too. Tonight I am finally getting out of this ho-hum home, putting on my best top hat and cape and sauntering over to a local brewing establishment to partake in some fine crafted elixirs. More importantly I will also be discussing the fine art of spotting, approaching and subsequently "closing the deal" on females of the separatist nature.

Now the first thing you must consider when trying to meet your average separatist woman is that they usually prefer to be alone, thus separating themselves from the common ruffians you meet at such places, thus their namesake.

Once you have your eye on a rather attractive separatist lass, you must walk up to her and engage in pleasant small talk while offering them a drink. I find a good glass a sherry or a well aged snifter of brandy to be remarkably receptive but a rum and coke or 'sex on the beach' will work in a pinch.

After the converseing pleasantries have been exchanged and the drinks have arrived, it is always a good idea to have them start by talking about themselves. This will put their mind at ease and allow you much needed time to remember their name. Case in point, I have just discovered that the very attractive woman I am talking to now is a button nosed cheerleader from the planet Hot-n-Tott. Oh my,oh my! They do have some nice separatists in that system.

After the first drink, I then regail her with my past conquests. --Jedi conquests that is. What do you take me for, a cad? I could see she was none too impressed so I ventured forth with other stunning tid-bits such as being the founder of McDookus, and the leader of the separatist movement.

Still not impressed. (And I really thought that last talking point would do the trick.) But no matter, I enjoy a spirited challenge. I then told her of my days in a rock band with my old padawan Qui-Gon. I was sure she would develop a high level of moisture over this but instead she began to yawn.

Oh dear me, time for desperate measures.




...and two hours later here we are!


















Now you might ask yourself, just what did I say, what did I do to bring this separatist minx around to my way of thinking? It's a trade secret, my friends but since you've been kind enough to listen to me prattle on I will divulge it to you now.

I simply told her I had an enormous....











....stamp collection.


Think about it. You'll come around to it eventually.

Well, back to the trenches.
Cheerio!

Guest Poster-Dooku: Top of the World to You!

Well, dear me. I did so hope to have some other people contributing to my topic questionnaire with a bit more enthusiasm than was shown. Only one person chimed in and with a rather odd request at that. Even worse, the request was from that rather precocious Yoda fellow. I still don’t understand for the life of me why he insists on provoking me. Doesn’t he know I am his superior when it comes to sword play and his rather sub-par Jedi skills, not to mention my exquisite culinary skills.

But tish-tosh! Who am I to disappoint my audience…Even if it is not brought forth with the good natured spirit than was intended.

Master Yoda suggested that I jump off a cliff and although there are precious few cliffs in Coruscant, there was that one time I did go bungee jumping off one of the Jedi Temple towers. I must say it was quite exhilarating but I don’t think I shall be doing it again anytime soon. Not that I was afraid mind you, but I seemed to have lost my best top hat that way.

Silly of me not to have taken it off in the first place, but I do have appearances to keep up, you know.

Any other topics you wish to discuss out there? Any at all?

Oh, how about this one then. It seems our friend Yoda was at the local J.C. Portkins the other day and came across this Dolly Parton manikin. I’m not so sure what he was doing to it but it does seem a bit…unseemly, don’t you think?

Turnaround is fair play, ol chap.

Well, that’s it for today. I’m off to kill some Jedi and play a game a cricket afterwards.

Tally ho.

Guest Poster-Count Dooku: Home Alone

Oh dear me, it’s dreadfully quiet around here. Now that my old padawan Qui-Gon has gone off into the Æther once more and that rather repulsive little Jawa has gone off to some pedestrian game show contest. What a droll little man.

And although I do enjoy their luxury apartment and the fact I can now go to the bathroom with the door wide open, there still seems to be a lack of…how should I say it…interesting activities for me to attend to.

So I am turning to you kind folks out there to help me decide just what subject I should post about in the coming weeks.

1. Give pointers on the fine art of Sith lawn bowls.

2. Talk smack about Yoda

3. Go out, get drunk and pick up some separatist chicks.

4. Make a delicious cream puff

5. Talk smack about Yoda

6. Choke the weasel (if you know what I mean)

7. Choke an actual weasel.

8. Crank call Darth Sidious

9. Discuss top hat accessories.

10. Show the proper way to house train a wookiee.

11. Dance Dance Revolution

12. Lance that troublesome boil on my backside

13. Talk smack about Yoda

Well, that’s it for now. I do hope some of you would drop me a line and tell me what I should do to pass the time here. Watching the telly can be so dreadfully boring. Especially when the only channel you get is the Jawa Discovery Channel. (How terribly peasant)

Cherrio!

A Little Extra Help

One thing I don’t need is help with making the brownies. Normally Qui oversees most of the actual brownie construction. He knows how to blend the right amount of fudgy goodness with the woop-dee spiceness. But since he’s taking a sabbatical in the Æther, it looks like it’s up to me to oversee the mixing and baking.

Now, being a business minded Jawa, doing anything in the kitchen large scale just ain’t my forte. In fact I think I’d rather mud wrestle Hutts than cook in the kitchen, but since I’m the only other person beside ol Qui who knows the secret recipe, it looks like I’m gonna be Betty Crocker for a while.

Boy I hope QG comes back soon.

Not just for the baking but Dooku is driving me nuts. Oh, he cleans up after himself….sometimes. And the walls are thick enough that I don’t hear him snoring, but since Qui Gon has left he’s always underfoot wanting to help with something or another.

And thus, the time he decided to make the next batch of brownies.

“Here you go, ol chap. I thought I would help you out and mix up today’s batch of your delectable dank delights.”

“Wha-? Dooku…you made today’s brownies? But you don’t know the secret recipe.”
””Oh hogwash! Why, I should say, my own recipe has made many in my generation quite euphoric in its day. Qui-Gon never understood the subtle layering of intricate flavors like I did. Here, have a taste.”

“Hey, are those seeds? How much of our ‘spice’ did you put in there?”

“Oh, stop being such a baby and have one.”

So, throwing causion to the wind, I ate one of Dooku’s brownies. It was a bit dry at first and a twig got firmly lodged between my front teeth…but the taste was appealing.

I stood there for a few moments waiting for my body to react.

“There there, my boy. I told you they were good.” Dooku chimed in.

I wasn’t sure yet. Still I waited; his eye always on me.

Mesmerizing….turning….twisting…

“There…now don’t you think my recipe is better?”

Oh yeah….that fudgy goodness is hitting me now….

???

No no, mr. T.V. man…I don’t need a hand…I need a tan and a fan….

Hamana-hamana-hamana-hamana-hamana-hamana-hamana-hamana….

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!

Time to move on

(...not sure if I should be advertising for this...so soon after the Ithorian incident ....but here goes...)