Dr. Thorpe: This guy doesn't look menacing, he looks scared to be Chewbacca. He looks like he just came across a mirror and went "oh shit!"
Zack: I don't remember Chewbacca having a head almost the same size as his body. Is this like the Chewbacca version of the leprechaun?
Dr. Thorpe: Well, I don't remember Elvis having a face on his torso, either. This must be some horrible new trend in Halloween costumes.
Zack: So many costumes don't have pockets or any good place to store things you need easy access to like your keys or pepper spray. It was very nice of them to give Chewbacca a purse. Now he won't have to worry about getting raped by a slot machine in the parking lot.
Dr. Thorpe: Pardon me while I savor that delectable mental picture.
Zack: Chewbacca struggles for his keys in the poorly lit parking lot. There is an ominous jangling. "Who's there?" The jangling gets louder. Chewbacca finally finds his keys and just as he gets them into the door on his Escort he is taken from behind by a slot machine.
Dr. Thorpe: His plastic head is a terrible contrast with the furry body. It looks like Chewbacca wanted to get all dolled up for a party so he put too much pomade in his hair and it dried into a shellac-like shell.
Zack: I don't think it helps Chewie's appearance that his fur appears to be the exact same material used on bath mats.
Dr. Thorpe: He's looking a tad baggy, too. I'd tell him to go on a diet, but I have no idea what or if Chewbacca eats. There were lots of references to him being a glutton, but I never saw him eating anything.
Dr. Thorpe: Does he eat roots and berries, or what?
Zack: I think his planet was like all giant trees or something. So he probably ate birds.
Dr. Thorpe: Nothing that I can imagine him eating seems right. Fuck you, George Lucas, your fantasy world fails to convince at every possible level.
Zack: Yeah, you never really saw Chewbacca eat or drink anything. Really you never got much of any info about him. Like maybe he's just a wild unintelligent animal who evolved a natural ability to fix spaceships because he eats engine grease or something. Or maybe he was just some exotic blanket that Han Solo bought and it turned out he could fly a spaceship so he stopped using him to keep warm.
Dr. Thorpe: You'll notice that he does a lot of standing around. Even in Episode III, when his planet is at war, he mostly just stands around doing nothing. Maybe all the other Wookiees can talk, but he's just sort of a half-retarded idiot savant who can fix spaceships but just yells and stands around all day.
Zack: Yeah, he's like a Wookiee with severe autism or aspergers or something. They all know how to fight wars and write books on tree bark or whatever but he just howls at people and then fixes an engine with his uncanny mechanical knowledge.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
Ignore the hype. Find out how these games will likely go right or wrong.
Doing some reps on the water bottle huh. I prefer bench press myself. Just kidding - stay hydrated.
Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.