posted 08-09-1999 09:04 AM

Took some TPM ignorants to their first ever viewing (these are girls 29 & 27). All the way there, they were saying, "this better not suck" and "let's go see Blair Witch" but I held strong and we saw.
They loved it. Here's what they thought: Pod race=cool, light sabers=cool, Darth Maul=kind of scary, Jar Jar=Not that bad!!, Palpy/Sid=intriguing, Ewan=better than Liam.
Thus, two more TPM fans have been born, courtesy of your leader and lifelong slackmaster, C Creepio of Creepiville

posted 08-09-1999 09:06 AM

Hey TarynS how's MD/DC treatin' ya? Better than it treated me I hope...

Last week of "work". You know what that means... Just cleaning out my desk and taking 2 hour lunches.

Come to think of it, that's not much different than what I've been doing...

Oh and Good Morning to all who've checked in!

posted 08-09-1999 10:44 AM

Ahhhh. I was thinking I was going to have to read through 100 posts from the weekend, but it ended up only being like twenty. People just enjoy slacking a little too much over the weekend .

posted 08-09-1999 10:44 AM

Did anyone else notice that the more they watch TPM the more they like Jar Jar and Anakin begins to grind on your nerves?

Subliminal messages maybe?

Slack on.

posted 08-09-1999 01:37 PM

I'll start it, and I'll use the SW/slack idea that I'm currently obsessed with:

Amidala Slacks Off

An EU Fanfic story by the Slacker Council.

It was a rainy morning. The day before had been unbelieveably exciting, with a space battle, a ground battle, and high-stakes political maneuvering. But the day had been won, the Naboo had retaken what was theirs, and peace and order was restored for a time to the galaxy.

Snug in her bed in a faded Theed University sweatshirt and plaid pajama bottoms, Amidala celebrated her hard-earned victory by taking s Slack Day. She ordered Sache to bring her a bowl of Froot Loops and the remote control.

posted 08-09-1999 01:51 PM

And the image disappeared. Padme sat on the edge of her bed, wondering what to do....

(I hope I didn't ruin it This has potential. Work with it, baby)

posted 08-09-1999 02:14 PM

WE INTERRUPT THIS STORY TO BRING THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION REGARDING THE STATE OF SLACK TODAY...

Very Dangerous New Virus!

There is a new virus going around, called 'work'. If you receive
any sort of 'work' at all, whether via email, internet or simply handed to
you by a colleague...

DO NOT OPEN IT. This has been circulating around our building for months and those who have been tempted to open 'work' or even look at 'work' have found that their social life is deleted and their brain ceases to
function properly.

If you do encounter 'work' via email or are faced with any 'work'
at all, then to purge the virus, send an email to your boss with the words
'I've had enough of your crap........ I'm off to the pub'.

The 'work' should automatically be forgotten by your brain. If you
receive 'work' in paper-document form, simply lift the document and drag the 'work' to your garbage
can and put on your hat and coat and skip to the nearest bar with two
friends and order three pints of Guinness (or rum punch). After repeating this action 14 times, you will find that "work' will no longer be of any relevance to you and that 'Scooby Doo' was the greatest cartoon ever.

Send this message to everyone in your address book. If you do NOT have anyone in your address book, then I'm afraid the 'work' virus has already corrupted your life. Please be careful.

posted 08-09-1999 02:19 PM

quote:

---

For my ally is the force, and a powerfull ally it is.

---

posted 08-09-1999 03:53 PM

Moaning, he opened his eyes, and then rubbed them in astonishment. What was he doing sitting on Amidala's throne? And what the hell had he been drinking???

Stumbling to the door, Palpatine noticed Panaka passed out in the corner, a bottle of Colt 45 tucked into his outstretched hand. Mysteriously, Panaka's pants also appeared to be missing. Replacing his military skirt, the words "blaster ass" were plainly written on his underwear. Palpatine subdued a soft chuckle.

In fact, the whole Throne Room had seen better days. In addition to the blaster marks pocketing the marble walls, the ornate windows had suffered damage from some dangerous "bottle rockets" Panaka's troops had been tossing around. That Gungan stripper hadn't calmed things down, either.

posted 08-09-1999 04:22 PM

Saturday, I went to have my hair trimmed. I was chatting with the hairdresser and she mentioned that she'd got so fed up with her last job, one day, she walked in and quit. Just like that: walked in and quit. And you know what she did, after quitting five years worth of job? Saw Star Wars.

Anyway, back to story:
Sabe bit into her pizza, wincing as her teeth crunched through the slightly singed and very stale crust. She'd eaten worse. She was damned if she could remember what, but she'd eaten worse.

This place she thought with disgust as she moved through the wreckage of the Crab Shack, is a pit. An entertaining pit, but a pit nonetheless. Music she couldn't identify, the bass turned so high it drowned out the lyrics and most of the other instruments, saturated the air, flashing colored lights pulsing, drilling the eyes. The floor space was choked with moving bodies, bouncing more or less in time with the backbeat. Anyone seeking refuge from the battering motion lined the walls, nursing drink and more stale pizza. The occasional passed-out party added the finishing touch.

And it wasn't even five'o'clock yet.

Sabe craned her neck over the mass of heads. In the middle of the dance floor, she saw Obi-Wan with a girl on all sides, dancing with each and every one like she was the only one in the room, an idiot grin on his face. The frenzied, slightly bloodshot look in his eyes reassured Sabe not at all. Then again, a drunk Jedi might be . . . educational to observe.

Rabe, one of her fellow Handmaidens, ambled over with a drink in each hand, stepping delicately over a comatose Jar Jar.

Sabe accepted the drink and took a long swig. "Who's he dancing with?" she howled over the noise, angling her mouth right by Rabe's ear.

Rabe didn't have to ask who she meant. "All of 'em, I think."

posted 08-09-1999 04:26 PM

Or had she? Palpy rubbed his bleary eyes in astonishment. Amidala's normally perfect hair was sloppily pulled into a pink scrunchie that even Palpy recognized as having been out of style for several years now. The scrunchie was dingy, as if she had found it underneath a dresser. (Which, in fact, she had.)

Sache, hurrying behind, leaned over with a red lipstick to quickly apply the traditional dots and lip-slash, but Amidala irritably slapped away Sache's hand, causing the lipstick to leave an unsightly gash across the handmaiden's face. Palpy chuckled to himself.

"Dammit, Sache, give it a rest. I'm slacking today." Amidala pulled the Theed University sweatshirt that she had slept in over one of King Veruna's old t-shirts. She was dressed in sweatpants with paint stains and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers. "Palpy, what the Tatooine are you doing in my throne room?"

Palpy began to reply when Amidala turned to Sache, who was still rubbing the makeup from her face, and said, "Can you go get me a juice box from the fridge? I'm parched."

Sache ran out, not sure what had become of her Queen.

Palpy smiled wearily and began his spiel. "Well, your Majesty, I was just guarding the throne from the hordes of drunken revelers rampaging through the palace..."

Amidala cut him off. "Bantha poo-doo," she snapped. "I know what you're up to. You're going to become Emperor, convert my former husband to evil and wipe out the Jedi." Sache returned with the juice box. Amidala snatched it and added, "But never mind that now. Slacker City, here I come!"

posted 08-09-1999 04:50 PM

"Here kid," I'll show ya how it's done, he mumbled, inhaling what remained of Jar Jar's whisky & soda, and knocking the empty glass over.

"Wizard," Ani cried, and got to his feet. After getting to his feet again, and then for the third time, Anakin finally staggered uncertainly to the dance floor. "Use the Force, Ani" Kenobi whispered in his ear, as he launched into the Kenobi groove.

The dance floor was spinning, and those damn strobe lights didn't help. Still, Anakin felt bold and brave... courageous. "Hey, chick!" he should. Sabe wanted him, he could feel it.

"Hey kid," Ric shouted from somewhere deep in the dance pit. "You catch on pretty quick! Score that babe!"

posted 08-09-1999 04:53 PM

Ric Olie was having as usual, an interesting conversation.

" So, you're green huh ? "

" mmmm...yes "

" Short too... "

" Your questions, have a point do they "

Ric became flustered " Just trying to make conversation. "

The engimatic green creature snorted...

Ric tried again.

posted 08-09-1999 04:58 PM

She stared for a few minutes at Obi-Wan as he danced around like a chicken with it's head cut off.

She dicided to take a look in the kitchen to see if the chefs were following Naboo Kitchen Rules and saw Jar Jar pinned down in the Corner. Jar Jar yelled in terror "Meesa in big doo doo"!

Just then Anakin ran into the shack.

posted 08-09-1999 07:38 PM

quote:

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Hey kid," Ric shouted from somewhere deep in the dance pit. "You catch on pretty quick! Score that babe!"

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