Well Disney, you finally did it; you finally figured out how make me so utterly sick of Star Wars, and it doesn't come out for another three months. Everywhere I look there's something related to Start Wars: toys of every shape and color, books, soft drinks, cereals, R2-D2 in the center aisle at Meijer holding macaroni and cheese dinners. I half expect to see lightsaber-shaped tampons (please do not show me these: I don't want to know). What started as a dull murmur of excitement has given way to a marketing avalanche that even George Lucas couldn't envision. And I'm sure this fully armed and operational marketing Death Star hasn't even warmed up to fever pitch.

Not to mention the collectibles.

I'm done.

I'm tired. I'm tired of Disney expecting every child of the 1980s to come crawling in slavish devotion to every little throwback they produce. I understand they're trying to make back their investments on The Muppets and Star Wars and every last little character and franchise they've got the rights to flog.

I've hit my limit. No more. I'm done trying to keep up. You've taken something that was special to me and made me numb to it.

We're though. My inner child can't take this any more.

Just be sure to release The Force Awakens it on Netflix. I might have company over to see it at some point. cough