My Redneck Neighbor Doug's Interpretations On Various 'Bad Batch' Characters

My redneck neighbor Doug's interpretations on various 'Bad Batch' characters

So, it turns out my neighbor Doug, who lives next to me, is a MASSIVE Star Wars nerd. Hooray! Found this out earlier during a snow storm. He was thrilled when he found out my kids and I watch this show together, and had some...brilliant...insights on how he interprets the show. I'll be dropping some of the wildest descriptions here from time to time.

This was months ago, but damn it, it was so wild how this chubby Cajun Boomer described the show. I'm going to drop some of his best gems that he's texted me since January:

My Redneck Neighbor Doug's Interpretations On Various 'Bad Batch' Characters

Crosshair: "So that there's Daddy Warcrimes. All you need to know is he lives on beer and Slim Jims, has more guns then Jesus got faith, and that he does your mom on the weekends, and then you thank him for his service."

Hunter: "Aw man, we got Rambo up in this place. Daddy Rambo. He looks like he's got some hot wife with a huge butt who makes amazing biscuits, but he only showers on the weekends for reasons he won't tell you."

Wrecker: "I know, I KNOW, he's got some cool Star Wars name, but in my head, he's Julio. He looks like a Julio, ya know? Every Julio's been the nicest guy with a truck and a million friends. I swear. I bet he's a contractor and lays pipe like you wouldn't believe." ::winks::

Tech: "Hm, yeah, I know him. That's Ryan-from-Accounting, somebody's hipster dad. You know, everyone knows a Ryan who works in accounting, he's quiet, only drinks IPAs, and has a bitch wife named Laura who drives a Kia and is always yelling at him. Poor man. I hope Julio saves him from his bitch wife Laura."*

Echo: "Eh, Toaster Strudel. Homeboy looks like his daddy had an affair with a convection oven on shore leave and forgot to pay child support."

Omega: "Little Orphan Blondie. I hope she gets real parents or something besides those freaky alien things running the mall on the ocean."**

Admiral Rampart: "I hate this smarmy jack-ass already. He looks like my asshole nephew who got some fancy degree but can't keep a job in corporate because he's such a little ass, he talks down to the janitors and always leaves at 2 pm 'to beat traffic'. He's MBA-Rob."

*=I can't emphasize the vitriol Doug had in his voice when describing 'bitch wife named Laura'. I am so deeply concerned for Ryan-from-Accounting, wherever he is.

**= 'The mall on the ocean' describing Tipoca City sent me. That is how I refer to it now.

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MANDALORIAN LORE OF THE DAY: MESHGEROYA (A.K.A. BOLO-BALL OR LIMMIE)
bolo-ball A popular sport known as limmie outside the Core.
Climbing the ladder to one of the concussion missile bays, he found himself looking up at Rex as the clone commander leaned over from the gantry above. Rex, even without his distinctive blue-and-white 501st armor, was easy to spot among the ship's company. He had his helmet clipped to his belt, and he was sporting another new hairstyle. Instead of being shaven to a fine polish, as when Pellaeon had last seen him, his scalp was now covered with short fuzz of blue-dyed hair cut into stripes. "Very ... different, Rex," Pellaeon said. Ahsoka leaned over the rail beside Rex, although she had to stand on tiptoe to do it. She twitched her striped head-tails. "Nothing wrong with stripes, sir." "Bolo-ball final," Rex said. "I'm somewhat partisan. Bylluran Athletic." Pellaeon had no idea how Rex-bred on Kamino without any of the usual sense of geographic or species tribal-ism-decided which team to support. Bylluran was a Sullustan team. But most teams had fans who'd never been within ten parsecs of their home ground, and some couldn't even breathe the same atmosphere, so maybe that was ... normal. Stang, he's like any other being. A normal human male. It's hardwired in all of us, this need to ally and belong. "So, Rex, what do you think of the upgrades?" Rex replaced his helmet. "I can't judge the new concussion missiles until I see them take out a city or a capital ship, but I'm not convinced that the improved laser recharge time was worth the expenditure."
The parade ground was a platform edged with a low retaining wall and a border of manicured bushes, all trimmed to regulation height-there was such a thing, Scorch was certain-and it didn't see many parades. More often than not these days, it stood empty except for the occasional impromptu game of bolo-ball. The two veteran sergeants stood in the center of it with heads slightly bowed, oblivious of the commandos approaching. - "Meshgeroya," Besany said. "The beautiful game. That's what they call it here. Bolo-ball. Limmie. The ground's thawed enough to play." "They haven't got enough players for two teams." "Oh, that won't stop them." "Good grief, is Laseema going to play?" Scout seemed horrified. "And Jilka?" "I think they're going to be line judges. Parja's refereeing." "What line? It's just grass and mud out there." Besany and Ruu laughed. Meshgeroya was a Mandalorian obsession and certainly seemed to get a lot of boisterous energy out of their systems. When Ny looked out of the window, she was surprised to see Kina Ha and Uthan "What's shereshoy?" "A lust for life. Grabbing it and living it for the day, because you don't know if you'll be around tomorrow." "Shereshoy. I like that word." "If you ever see a Mando in orange armor, that's what the color means." Skirata held the last chunk of cookie to his nose and inhaled again. The aroma was obviously evocative. "You're a good woman, Ny." "You're not so bad yourself, Shortie." So this was shereshoy in action. The snow had melted, the sun was struggling to get noticed, and that faint promise of winter's end had sparked an impromptu game of meshgeroya and modest feasting. Ny liked that. Her life had always been spent deferring gratification, waiting for that mythical one day to come when she and her husband could spend good times together, but now that day had passed a few thousand times and would never come again. Ordo, sweat-streaked and visibly pleased with himself, halted the game to hand out mugs of ne'tra gal. Ny decided now was a good time to learn to enjoy the Mandos' sweet black beer, their crazy obsession with bolo-ball, and their eccentric hospitality that could, in the same heartbeat, take in both friends and traditional enemies. There would also come a time when she would have to come to terms with their ruthless, more brutal side. But that time could wait.
Beviin stopped the speeder in front of what could only be a cantina, its doors parted and the smell of cooking and brewing wafting onto the street Above the entrance was lettering Jaina couldn't read, and—helpfully—a few words of Basic: UNIVERSE TAPCAF-NO STRILLS INSIDE-BARTER ACCEPTED. Jaina followed Beviin inside. He took off his helmet, laid it on the counter, and ruined another stereotype for her: he wasn't some granite-faced thug but an ordinary gray-haired man about her mother's age, with the kind of face that looked on the edge of a big smile all the time. And the Fett-inspired
image of Mandalore that she'd nursed for so long kept crumbling. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she found herself in a cantina full of armored Man-dalorians, not all human, helmets stacked under tables. They were watching a big holovid screen in intent, reverent silence, mesmerized by a bolo-ball match. "Meshgeroya," Beviin whispered, as if he was interrupting an act of wor-ship. "The beautiful game. Our other national pastime."
The bolo-ball provided a neutral distraction. She was almost caught up in it, so deafened as the room turned from total silence to explosive yells of "Oya!" when the favored team scored, that the sensation that ran up her spine and made her hair bristle caught her by surprise.
"Come on, Kad'ika." Ny lifted Kad onto her hip. "Let the big kids play with the ball now." Fi tossed the ball in the air and headed it as if he was checking that he could still do it. "Love us, love our game." "I'll get used to it ..." Even Vau joined in. Ny watched, waiting for the crunch of old bones whenever Skirata and Gilamar were tackled by one of the clones. The lads were big, fast, and exceptionally fit, far too fit for the veteran sergeants. Ny could see a little midlife crisis raising its graying head there. But maybe the crazy old barves just loved playing meshgeroya, and the risk of a painful trouncing from the youngsters wasn't enough to stop them. The shouts and indignant appeals for penalties sent Mird into an excited frenzy. The strill slapped its whip-like tail on the ground and squealed to itself, occasionally racing around what seemed to be the edge of the pitch in its imagination. Kad watched the game intently, fist held to his mouth. Vau went for a high ball and headed it down between two bushes that seemed to be the only goal. He roared truimphantly. "Offside!" Corr protested. Ny had no idea how he worked out where the goal was, let alone whether Vau had broken some rule. She didn't really get the game at all. "Ref, that was offside." Parja allowed the goal, pointing imperiously toward a nonexistent center spot. "Wasn't. Play on." "Devious old men one, fit young upstarts nil," Vau said smugly. But he looked seriously out of breath.
"It's all they can think about," Mirta muttered. "I'm glad it's only once every five years." "What is?" "Galactic bolo-ball tournament. It's taken over the HoloNet." Wrong again, then. Jaina's misfortunes weren't as riveting as a sporting event. Life didn't center on her small circle, another reminder that there was a wider world she seldom saw. "Where's Fett?"
MANDALORIAN LORE OF THE DAY: MESHGEROYA (A.K.A. BOLO-BALL OR LIMMIE)

MANDALORIAN LORE OF THE DAY: MESHGEROYA (A.K.A. BOLO-BALL OR LIMMIE)

Sources: Star Wars: The Clone Wars novelization, The Clone Wars: No Prisoners, Republic Commando: True Colors, Order 66: A Republic Commando Novel, Imperial Commando: 501st, The Complete Star Wars Encyclopedia, Vol. I, Legacy of the Force: Revelation

Just want to send a special thanks to the Republic Commando series for kindly reminding me that clones aRE CLAUSTROPHOBIC BECUASE tHEY SPENT A MAJORITY OF THEiR TIME IN A BACTA TANK


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10 months ago

Soresu Negotiations

“Get help,” Palpatine said. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at the Chancellor. “...yes?” he said. “But he’s also something else – something I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.”

“What?” Palpatine asked.

“A politician,” Obi-Wan replied, turning back to Dooku.

Anakin groaned, then sat down.

“Here we go,” he said.

Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.

“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.

“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”

“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”

“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”

“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”

Dooku was silent for a moment.

“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”

“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”

He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”

“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.

“...no they don’t,” he said.

“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”

He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”

Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.

“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”

“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”

Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.

“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”

“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.

“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”

He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”

“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”

“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”

Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.

“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”

Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.

“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.

“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”

He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”

“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.

“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”

Dooku’s brow furrowed.

“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”

Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.

“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.

“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”

He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”

“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”

“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”

“This plan looked a lot better this morning,” Palpatine muttered.


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11 months ago

love this animal. the majestic whores

Love This Animal. The Majestic Whores

Years of cross country have prepared me for this very moment

“You can run, but you can’t hideeeeee!” The monster chasing you calls out. But the monster doesn’t know that you are a marathon runner and so you just keep on running.

I have a headcannon that after the umbara arch Dogma went into his I-just-realised-everything-I-have been taught-is-a-lie-phase and then began making videos on the holonet about why the Republic is corrupt and after its fall he went straight to dissing the empire.


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Fuck pong krell

The Biggest Fool Of Them All

The biggest fool of them all


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117 By Peter Gutierrez

117 by Peter Gutierrez

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weird autism dude

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