'You’d have to meet her’ sounds… ominous. Like, 50/50 chance she’s gonna stab me or adopt me. Should I bring snacks or, like, holy water?

And Lord of the Rings? Don’t even get me started. You’re preaching to the choir, dude. I live for the lore. Give me elves, swords, emotional trauma, and one guy carrying the weight of the world—literally—and I’m in.

Good media? Oh, buddy, we’re about to be best friends. I can identify the good stuff and the weird stuff. And yes, I have opinions. Strong, unsolicited opinions.

Yeah, you might wanna hit rewind on that sentence, because it started ‘mildly concerning’ and ended in full exorcism vibes.

Once. It was awful.

Is the salt going to help?