I hope that Sherlock is terrible on Sunday if only so I don’t have to deal with the fact that he dies and that we’re left with the thought of widower John talking to the skull and sitting by the fireplace all alone with the violin propped up on Sherlock’s chair and spare cups of tea just moulding away and forgotten and how exactly are we supposed to sit through the millennia before the third series comes out
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The roadway was blocked with the immense stream of commerce flowing in a double tide inwards and outwards, while the footpaths were black with the hurrying stream of pedestrians.
Umm, sounds busy.
That awkward moment when the page is blank.
“The pills are making Carl’s hands shake and want to do things.”
um.
“Usually the highest-ranking authority in the field during a Recon mission is the team leader.”
This means clandestine orgies, right?
“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.”
If only my sex life was like Bingley/Darcy femslash.
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