My wife: so our cat does this thing where she breathes out heavily for a few minutes, like she’s gonna cough up a hair ball, but nothing comes out. Just air.
Vet: can you describe the sound more?
Me: have you seen lord of the rings
My wife: please, not this.
Me: you know Gollum?
My wife: ignore him, please.
Me: Hungry again? Looks like someone wants second dinner!
Wife: for the last time he’s not a hobbit.
Professor: Can anyone here give an example of a tragic figure in literature?
Professor: Interesting choice. What makes him tragic?
Me: He has fond memories of sucking eggs with his grandmother, but then he lives under the mountain so he doesn’t have access to eggs anymore. So that’s pretty sad.
The gunman holds the barrel up to my head. “All you have to do is read the words on the paper in front of you, and you’re free to go. Just say them.”
I stare down at the words. Tom Bombadil is Eru Ilúvatar’s avatar in Middle Earth.
“Just pull the trigger,” I say.
Honestly if I’m ever reading my kid Lord of the Rings and they actually say “Shut the book now, dad; we don’t want to read any more,” I have no idea what I would do.
My friend: hey did you bring some protein bars?
Me: Lembas? I have some here.
Friend: I don’t think I know that brand, but sure. Can I have one?
Me *handing bar*: Of course. A single bite will sustain you for a who-
Friend: Why is this Larabar wrapped in a leaf?
Satan: So you’ve been sent to hell for eternity.
Me: Damn. What’s my punishment.
Satan: You’re gonna be stuck with Greg. He’s a huge Lord of the Rings fan with a ton of theories about it that he wants to share with you.
Me: That doesn’t sound that bad.
Satan: They’re all really edgy and stupid.
Greg: What if Frodo killed himself, and the vision of him sailing to Valinor is just his final wishes as he dies?
I awake in an alternate reality in which only I remember Tolkien’s books. I sit down to write them and become rich and famous. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit,” I type. I cannot remember the next line. This is going to be a struggle.
People think that technology is eroding privacy but my phone always wants to correct cirith ungol as “critic unfollow” which tells me that technology knows nothing about me.
Jeweler: okay so I have your engagement ring ready, but you said you had something in mind for the box?
Me. Yeah. I need you to make something that fits with the line, “A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.”
Jeweler: a box without a hinge or a lid? what kind of box is that? i have no idea what that means.
Me: figure it out. that’s what im paying you for!