I Must be Wearing a Shirt that Says “Please Ruin Lord of the Rings For Me”
the commune’s Thelma Reynolds is not listening 

I’ve checked through my entire wardrobe twice, but as far as I can tell I don’t own any clothing that has anything to do with The Lord of the Rings. I do own an ornate little waistcoat I wouldn’t be embarrassed to wear to a Hobbit wedding, but that’s about as close as it gets. Which is confusing because my brother Dave acts like I’m wearing a “Please Ruin The Lord of the Rings For Me” tee shirt.

The other day we’re hanging out and talking about the trailer for the third Rings movie, The Return of the King, coming out in December. And out of nowhere Dave blurts out “Man, there’s going to be a lot for them to cover in that third movie! I don’t know how they’re going to do it; it’s going to have to be like eight hours long! Frodo hasn’t even been captured yet...”

Thanks a lot, dickcheese. Anything else you’d like to ruin for me before you punch out for the day? Any bands I like breaking up or anything? See any of my ex-boyfriends hooking up with supermodels? Moron.

Dave, being Dave, claimed that he’d assumed I was familiar with the story from reading the books or watching the 1970’s animated film. As if I he wouldn’t know either way. We’ve spent our entire lives living in the same house! I know how many times he’s eaten tacos. Does he think I snuck off and read 1,800 pages of Tolkien while he was out taking a shit?

But that’s just Dave. You’ve got to let Dave be Dave, or else he gets sulky and locks himself in the bathroom all day.

I can never take Dave too seriously since he thought the Ring Wraiths were way scarier when they were riding those black horses in Fellowship than when they had the flying dragons in The Two Towers. Not that the horses weren’t scary, mind you, but Dave should realize he’s fucking insane. He can go ahead and have the dudes on the dragons chase him, I’ll take my chances with the ones on horseback and I’ll make sure they put something on Dave’s tombstone about how he thought the horses were scarier.

Sure, the horses were definitely scary, but Jesus Christ man, these are flying dragons we’re talking about here! Forget the Ring Wraiths, I’m terrified of those dragons solo. They could kill you accidentally. Just think about it for a second. What do horses eat? Hay, grass? Salt? Junk like that, maybe dog biscuits if they’re really hungry. Dragons eat knights and possibly other dragons, that’s it. No contest there. They could bite your head off and then set you on fire, just because they liked the way it smells. What’s a horse going to do, kick you?

Ooh. You’ve got me shitting bullets there, Dave. Look out, because if you go stand in front of that horse for like a half an hour and make no effort to get out of the way, he might kick you. I know when I can’t sleep at night it’s because I’m thinking of nature videos I’ve seen of horses in the wild, stealthily wandering up to their prey and sort of half-assed kicking them in the head. Chilling. I was a fool to think the dragons were scarier.

Thankfully Dave has kept his mouth shut about what’s to come in the third film ever since the lamp-throwing incident. If the Ring Wraiths are riding coked-up Tyrannosaurs Rexes or something in Return of the King, I don’t want to know about it until they’re up there on the big screen, biting the spare tire off the back of Frodo’s Jeep. And no, Dave, I haven’t read the script off the Internet and I’m not going to. Just shut up.

Time to Renew Your Smut License
The latest hoopla is over these two college coaches who porked Lady Disgrace right out on the national stage. One had a thing for underage college girls, for the other it was strippers, but those are just two ends of the same Madonna/whore complex. Some would hesitate to compare seasoned professional strippers to the Virgin Mary, but they haven’t spent much time with underage college girls.

Astral Spies
Many have feared the observation of their innermost secrets by extra-terrestrials perched upon the moon, using telescopic devices. No doubt, several popular songs have been written on the subject. Extra-terrestrials on the moon? Well who do you think lives there, Smurfs? Don’t be crazy.

A Return to Niceness
Pundits have linked our present reality to a swan dive from the values of the Great Generation, though few have had the guts to tell those geezers that every generation calls itself that, even the flappers.