By Boba Fett

First of all, I know what you're thinking: ?Isn't this guy dead?' I get that all the time. Do I look dead to you? Obviously I am very much alive.

Most of you numb-nuts' saw me fall into the Sarlaac pit and presumed I died there, but if any of you idiots ever read a little book called "Tales From Jabbas Palace," you would know that I escaped and eventually nursed myself back to health. It is one of the most horrific events of my life and I don't like to think about it, much less speak about it.

My life was screwed from the start. Some Jedi-asswipe cut my Dad's frickin' head off right in front of me when I was young. That was traumatic, alright.

I still wear his old helmet, you know, and I'll spare you some of the truly gruesome details of getting my old man's decapitated head out of it. All I'll say is that it took a long time and it still smells terrible.

So here I am, no money, no job and nobody cares. I thought it might be nice to be an accountant and mind my own business, maybe get married some day. Well, I didn't have any money for school or for dates, so it was bounty hunting or starve and a lot of masturbation.

Everyone thinks bounty hunters are rich and extravagant, well maybe "Dog the Bounty Hunter' has some cash from his hit TV show, but I'm eating mac and cheese for all threes and broke as a joke. I'm livin' paycheck to paycheck if you can call that livin' at all.

Everyone loves the jet pack. Oh, they think it's so cool and what fun I must be having. The thing sucks, alright!

There is a learning curve that takes time to get used to, I'm talkin' years. The jet fuel for the pack isn't the same kind everyone uses to fuel their ships. It's hard to find and expensive as all hell.

They should rename it the 'Death Pack' for as many times as I've crashed the damn thing. The fuel gauge on the pack is not accurate and when I'm chasing a bounty I'll run out of fuel and literally fall out of the sky!

I got a landlord up my ass every day of the week. Work is staggered at best, I get a per diem to go find these bounties, but it always runs out before the job is done. So before I even get paid, I'm in the hole. Bills need to get paid and my credit is maxed.

I tried to find another career and paid 400 credits for a work at home gig stuffing envelopes. The guy on TV said how easy it was and how he became a millionaire in a couple weeks. Well, I didn't make shit and had to go back to bounty hunting.

My diet is terrible: I'm on the road all the time and have to eat whatever crap is at the Space Mart. When you get really hungry you'll eat all of high fructose corn syrup and bad carbs and all that. I won't even take off all my armor at night now because I'm afraid I won't be able to get it back on I'm such a fat-ass.

My self confidence is really low and I stutter and don't do well when I approach women. On top of that, who wants to go out with a bounty hunter that is gone all time and poor?

All you guys see is the Glitz and Glamour of this lifestyle, but you wanna know why I hung around Jabba's palace so long after I delivered Solo to him? It was because I got evicted! That's right, I got evicted from my piece a' shit apartment. I had nowhere to go; nowhere. Not very glamorous, is it?

I gotta my shit together, maybe go on vacation and clear my mind. That's just the tip of the iceberg, I'm in therapy twice a week. It's not at all glamorous, I hate myself.