George Lucas Handling Dumb Paparazzi Questions Just Made My Day

Before you go pounding into the keyboard about how much the hatred for George Lucas has been cobwebbing itself in your stomach over the years, let’s just take a step back and appreciate George Lucas as the mega-rich, slightly senile old man that he is for a second. I actually think he’s kind of sweet in like a plate of gingersnaps and some Metamucil type of way. The nice old lady with nine grandchildren who works at the gas station I frequent (for Fresca) kind of has the same begrudgingly blasé attitude.

Did you see the way he shut down those autograph hawks? Is that what they’re called? Let’s shift gears for a second, autographs are fucking stupid. What do you actually do with a signature from someone famous once you have it? I’ve seen people put more effort into masking their farts in a public bathroom than George Lucas puts into signing his name on these shitty posters, so how is this worth money? Unless you got George to autograph the actual film stock from the scene where Jar-Jar makes a Gungan splash into a sea of borderline racism (I guess it’d be a memory card for this one, but whatever), I could care less who scribbled sharpie on your poster – you’re not invited to my BBQ.