When Star Wars Galaxies comes out, y’all know where I’m gonna be.

Hot desert sand
Got no ‘saber in my hand
‘jes a Colt 45 like Lan
Hangin’ in the Can-
TINA
Bitches ‘cuz the game is on
I’m gone
Gone on-line
When I’m not in line
For Episode III
You’ll find me
Near Mos Eisley
Chillin’ with Boba,
CHILLIN’ with BOBA

Two scorching suns
You can make your runs
Smugglin’ guns
Outrunnin’ garrisons
I couldn’t care ‘bout
None of your rebellions
I’ll be lighting a cigarette
Gettin’ down with the Fett
No sweat, no threat
Gettin’ bred
With that chick
With the tentacle head
I’ll be
Chillin’ with Boba,
CHILLIN’ with BOBA

I said
Chillin’ with Boba
CHILLIN’ with BOBA

[Pause]
I will now take questions from the audience.

“How do you plan for your character to earn a living in Star Wars Galaxies if all you do all day is hang out with Boba Fett?”

I consider the art of professional gigoloism to be a tatooinian trade secret. What I GOT is the special sumthun’. You and your wookiee-assed bitches wouldn’t even KNOW how to get down in THAT groove. Next?

“How will you know where to find Boba Fett once the game starts?”

Me and Boba are prepared to chill wherever and whenever the chillin’ is good. I refuse to entertain the possibility that my man BOBA would not SEEK ME OUT for the hardcore, no-prisoners CHILLIN’ that I and only I can provide.

“What kinds of things would you and Boba talk about?”

What the hell kind of cherry-assed question is that? He’s BOBA the jimmykicking FETT, you son of a bitch. We’ll talk about … BOBA stuff. Someone kick the squid out of my press conference. I’ll take one more question, because I’m sick of all y’all.

“Are you worried that chill will be a hotbed for other players, stragglers, and those less inclined to provide an ample chill milieu? That is to say, that the very power of the chill itself will draw crowds who would by their very presence disrupt the sanctity of said chill and create a potentially unchillable situation with Boba, or, at the very least, an ambience of far-reaching unfavorable chill conditions?”

The chill will not be televised. Not be televised. Not be televised. When I get down in the juice with Boba F-dawg, the chill will be REAL. That is all I’m sayin’.


Victim Pic Small

[A note from the author: I’d consider paying good money to anyone who could put the ‘Chillin’ With Boba’ lyrics to music. Serious chill music, something Mace Windu would listen to while rolling in his landspeeder with the top down.]


Score: 6.0; Total Votes: 2426 as of 2009-12-09.


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