I have two brothers. One is cool, generally calm, generous, caring, and values family beaucoup. The other is snide, selfish, sarcastic, and doesn't really care all that much for any of us. I love the first brother. The second one? Not so much. I mean, I love him, coz he's my brother. But dude: he is Darth Brother to my other brother's Yoda. My mother is a kinder, gentler version of Grand Moff Tarkin. Or maybe the Emperor. She adores Darth Brother beyond all else. And me?
I'm Princess Leia in the bad dress and ridiculous hair, hanging out in the detention center on the Death Star, and today, my life was a garbage chute of epic proportions.
Where the hell is Luke Skywalker when you need him?
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