If not entirely welcome.

Well today was quite nice. I saw the new/final Harry Potter at the cinema which was brilliant! And also met up with the dance girls for Nando's. It was nice.. But I don't know, I just feel so apart from people. They want to talk about cute waiters and other amusing stories and I just want to talk about the psyche of a serial killer and fawn over thom yorke. No. One. Knows. Ah. The walk home alone was great though. There was a complete downpour whilst I was walking down High Street and the brightest rainbow I have ever seen appeared.

Yesterday I walked around London for 12 hours in the company of a lovely German girl I met through tumblr. She was just there for a day and she wanted an 'unofficial' tour of the city. It was lovely. We admired nice shops and bought heavily in Primark (twice) and walked through some gardens and smoked a couple of spliff in Hyde Park.. Oh the satisfaction of walking past the police patrolling on their horses with a big bag of weed in your pocket. Ah, seriously though, it was really nice. It's just strange to think that I will probably never see her again in my life (unless I decide to backpack across Europe or something). Huh.

Now I'm just lying here feeling ill, watching Brett's perfect depiction of Holmes in The Sign of Four and contemplating the impossibility's of love. Goodnight.

N.B isn't it just WONDERFUL that Tom won The Apprentice!!!!!!!!! Ahhhhhh, I am so happy for him!! I know it sounds really cliché but I knew from the beginning he'd win! I mean literally, as soon as Lord Sugar applauded him for his analysis in the board room after that first task I literally turned round to my Dad and Sister and screamed 'HE'S WON IT!' Yay, Tom!
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Yes I'm pissed off at my dad for throwing my gin away and yes I am drunk.
But hey, as an add on to all og thixn if you want mme to go then acxtually asdk me. I didnbt organise this, so you have to ask me. That's how it woerks.
Hareyy potter and the philosophersd stone.
I want twa.
I thinl thatb luther is greater than sherlock
At the present moment
Sherlock will always be my number one
But ultimately he's fantasty
Luther petrifies me. That uncomfortable, uneasy feeling, that's what I crave.
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and this is a dirty song called skip divided...

no, it won't let me embed it so let's just post a dirty picture instead.

now we could either go for this option

or this one

or this one

i don't mind which one, they're all poifect

sexualising all things yorke is a far better way of spending my thinking time right now opposed to what i should be thinking about. that stuff's boring and monotonous and more boring and doesn't make me feel better, at all. whereas obviously dancing, shirtless, sweaty, head swaying, red jeans, head band yorke does.

....... steadily moving on

wow my belly hurts, probably because i haven't eaten for like, a day. which for me is torturous.

there's a doughnut sat right next to me but it doesn't appeal to me at all because the last doughnut i had was disgusting (which is surprising considering it was from waitrose). no, i think i'll go downstairs and make myself a pot noodle or something, god i hate those things. actually no, i'll think i'll have some cheese, which apparently gives you nightmares when you have it before you go to sleep but my nightmares can't get much worse at the moment so /

i have to finish my song for tomorrow cos i've got my singing lesson and i actually need to have something to show/play. i love my singing lessons more than anything because the lessons give me a deadline/goal/target of when i need to finish songs. it gives me the structure for songwriting that without the lessons, would be a complete free fall. i'm very much like thOm in the sense that we're both really bad at finish things and we rely on other people to finish them for us or make us finish them. i don't even know why i call them singing lessons though, i mean i go with my guitar and play her my song, but apparently my guitar playing is good enough to be ignored and doesn't need fiddling around with. it's just i have difficulty with pronouncing certain words/letters and also with my breathing, by which i mean i don't do it, i think i can go i whole minute without stopping for air. you don't realise the bad habits you have until you hear yourself back on record, it really opens your ears/eyes.

sherlock holmes died on this day 120 years ago (if my maths serves me correctly, which it probably doesn't because i haven't done maths for about three months). well i say died, he didn't actually die, he supposedly fell of the cliff bringing down his arch enemy professor moriarty with him. the professor was the one who fell, holmes just slipped a bit and climbed back up the cliff edge and hid under a rock. so now i'm going to go and watch this very episode - it is rather amazing, and go to sleep

night

The Adventure of the Resident Patient..... SPAM!

It's by far my favourite Sherlock adventure.

Oh and this is here because I find it awfully amusing.

Brett beats Cumberbatch any day of the week.

There's some things which just can't wait until the morning

Jeremy Brett & Audrey Hepburn in War & Peace (I never actually read it. Or watched it. But for reference I think it's nice).

I find the way he wraps the scarf around his head amusing every time.

I want that hair colour. Now.

So fucking true.

He's become a very smart dresser recently!

Oh, these two..

It's the "Bom bom bom" after he says it which I love even more.

This is perhaps the saddest picture I've ever seen. It must've been taking whilst they were filming the final Sherlock Holmes story "His Last Bow". I know this as Sherlock retires to beekeeping at Fulworth in Sussex, October 1903. (I've already decided Sherlock is going to be my topic on Mastermind should I ever appear on there for whatever absurd reason). It's sad as they never got to finish the filming or producuction of the last stories before Jeremy Brett died. And so therefore we can deduce that this picture must've been taken in the very last few months/weeks/days of Jeremy's life, as he filmed right up until he faced death's door.

I Am A Wicked Child

Radiohead even manage to do folk right. I love them so much. They're literally all I care about. Apart from Sherlock of course.

Breaking news: my lavender & chamomile candle has just burnt out. Fuck my life. Actually, it's OK because there's still the other ones going. Phew for a minute there I lost myself.

Fittttttttt

jonny greenwood doesn't age. thom yorke is telling me i'm all he needs... but actually it's about my head isn't? apparently the new term for 'lost sheep' is 'lost lamb'. it's cold in this basement. i wish thom would put the heating on. but oh no. he has a planet to save. i need a cup of tea and some lightened candles. sherlock is just over there waiting for me. oh, and btw, hello again sociability! it's been a while! now fuck off you're scaring me.

I might shoot VR into the wall at this rate..

I'm bored. So far today I've had 5 pointless lessons at school, felt in the cusp of a bitch fest and watched Lord of the Rings.

Oh yeah, and it's my birthday today.

Cried

Most 16 year old's get a Tiffany's bracelet or moped for their birthday. I got a Jeremy Brett autograph. I'm scared to touch it, it's actually my most treasured possession.

STOKED

It's 21:11, I have a Willow remix blasting out and now I've got a headache. Retreat retreat! I'm going to be bed with a cup of rosy lee and some Sherlock.

Steve's cartoons for The Guardian are the best.

Chemistry exam didn't go that badly.

Not gonna lie, this is pretty fucking hot.

I'm going to marry Adele.

I'm too tired to type about how annoying these bitches are. Ha, I feel like Kanye when I say that! Obviously I'm referring to Ricky Gervais' awful puns at the Golden Globes: while introducing Robert Downey Jr - "Many of you in this room probably know him best from such facilities as the Betty Ford Clinic and Los Angeles County Jail." I mean talk about a low blow. Leave the frankly overrated Sherlock alone!

Suppose the only relevant news is that I'm having a party at my place on Saturday. I'm gonna say BYOB just cos it's easier, but they'll be quite a bit o' toxic substances there I would imagine.. so yeah, don't really give a shit who wants to come. Just so long as you're not the absolute cunt. Oh, and no haters please. Should be a laugh, usually is.

You know when RDJ Sherlock is sat in the restaurant waiting for Watson and his wife to be... Yeah that's how I feel...
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Me and Benedict Cumberbatch are going to get married one day.

3 REASONS TO LOVE FAN VIDS:

Four months late, I know.

You watch this for a minute thinking 'No... this can't possibly be Ladytron...' but then the oboe comes in and it's like 'oh yes! I remember now!' and then you hear the vocals and it's none other than Bryan Ferry (although I personally like to pretend it's Thom Yorke) but yeah, I had never heard of James Small until I found out Jamie Hince from The Kills had kindly made the promo vid for his collection. Both artists talented in their own right of course.

From Noel Fielding to Louie Spence, it seemed like everybody was at the W Hotel party celebrating James Small and the premier of this short film.

I love this picture of Agyness Deyn and Florence Welch together. It seemed like the party.

Still, Kate Moss had been there. And had I of known at the time that she would go on to later throw the ONLY copies of The Kills' 6 new songs for the new album into a swimming pool, I would of suffocated her. But yes, this is all in hindsight and rather retrospective.

-

Last night I indulged in Sky Arts 1. I watched 'David Bowie at 50' or whatever it was called for an hour, my God isn't he still so dandy? I then watched Andy Warhol's Factory People which was basically a load of 'once-upon-a-time-NY-cool-cats' rambling on about how high everybody was when they went to the 'Factory' and how unapproachable yet genius Warhol was. Still, it was interesting. Then I watched a Sex Pistols reunion gig from a few years back. My problem with that was the idea of there being no Sid. I know Sid isn't the entire cusp of the band, however, he played a massive part in their look, attitude and reputation. (Notice how I didn't say musicality, yes, Sid Vicious was a shit bassist). But nevertheless, Johnny Rotten is still as impressionable as ever, and still as much of a fucking cunt. God I salute him. Then finally, due to the whole drug, rock n'roll, punk, cool kid fuelled night I put on Velvet Goldmine when I went to bed. He he, I woke up feeling so trashy.

When I woke up I watched The Shackles of Sherlock. Don't get me wrong, I completely understand Conan Doyle's personal pursuit to be known for more significant things than Sherlock. But ultimately Sherlock brought Doyle fame and fortune, his 14th century novels did not. And for a man in circumstances such as his, perhaps selling out ever so slightly by providing the world with the addictive sleuth of a substance that is Sherlock Holmes was maybe an OK thing to do....

Moving on, today I caught up with some peeps and went to Tesco all before cooking dinner. This time it was roast pork with pears & parsnips. Twas most delicious. Now I'm besotted with Alice Glass pictures and learning about the 88 modern constellations. Oh but actually, I want to relive the return of Sherlock Holmes - The Empty House.

Sherlockian Express

I actually agree Moffat. The idea of crossing Doctor Who and Sherlock together is a bloody awful one at best. Anyone who disagrees is just extremely superficial, even more so then the likes of me.

Also, Benedict Cumberbatch wipes the fucking floor with Matt Smith for Best Drama Performance. If he wins the National Television Award on the 26th, it'll be the best birthday present ever. If he doesn't, then it's a fucking fix.

The dream to end all dreams

It started of with me missing the cue for my ballet dance in the show. I risked it by going to the loo the dance before ours without of putting my shoes on or anything! I couldn't find a suitable cubicle to part with my brother so I gave up and scrambled to adjust my lipstick and assemble the ribbon on my shoes. It ended in me storming from the wing and packing my stuff up in the dressing room, claiming that I'd had an epiphany on how utterly shit dancing is. (To be honest this isn't that far off from what actually happened).

I then subsequently left the dancing part of dream and entered the title of being a consulting detective. Oh yes, I was Sherlock. I had a faithful Watson, who was a lady and profoundly quiet. Moriarty tracked my every move and it wasn't long before me and my companion were hiding behind the pillars in a museum. We raced through empty exhibitions and pranced around exotic fashion designs. We ran from a security guard at this point and hid. We managed to shake Moriarty and his minions away however it wasn't long before he caught up with us again. This time we were on a roof of a rather tall, skyscraper of a building. There was a helicopter circling above us and I received a phone call. I must point out though that at this point I have left a part out. Between the museum and the roof I was somehow back at school. Desperately trying to fade into unknown territory. I realised I had left my phone at the museum somehow and needed to get it. At this point I remember ditching school and racing on a motorbike with a group of us down a fancy looking highway. We were soon caught up but nevertheless I got my phone and escaped. Now we return to the roof. So Moriarty phoned me up and gave me another choice; he said I could either give him our car, give him my dad OR to quote, "If you're feeling generous, give me the car and yourself to kill". After giving it some thought I decided to go with the first option, content with the fact I knew I could persuade my dad to give away our old Fiesta.

The rest is history but one odd thing which should be mentioned is that I'm pretty sure I end up marrying Moriarty. But to be honest, considering the Moriarty in my dream was played by Andrew Scott for the majority of it, I have no objection at all.

“No one ever gets to me. And no one ever will.”

“I did.”

“You’ve come the closest, now you’re in my way.”

“Thank you.”

“Didn’t mean it as a compliment.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Yeah, okay I did. But the flirting’s over, Sherlock. Daddy’s had enough now.”

I would've literally given my left arm to see The Secret of Sherlock Holmes at The Wyndham Theatre, 1989 with Brett. If ever I find The Doctor, it will indeed be my first request. My second will be to go onto Brett's personal timeline and avoid the premature death he suffered four months before I was born.

Because his name is better than yours.

Have I Got News For You becomes even better when BC is the host.

Oh. My. God.

Aww, these two! It's meant to be!

Only Sherlock could stand next to a corpse and still look adorable.

Strangely, I love this colour on him!

"Lennon... Sorry Paul!"

BC with some of the Misfits cast at the Miu Miu store launch! Oh my God!

But no, I'm not one of those crazy teen girl stalker fans you get at all. I just think Benedict Cumberbatch is slightly AMAZING.

Funny one

So today I went into town for a bit with my dear friend Jenny, we were both quick to retreat from the sales so ended up back at mine for a bit of ravioli and Ugly Betty.
A delightfully quaint day was soon interrupted by a rather icy night. I met up with a couple of the guys only to find confirmation of my doubts of dislikeness from my nemesis. (It's OK darl, I hate you too). But yes, apart from the absolute cunt putting a downer on the mood ever so slightly, it was a rather good evening.
Planning on going out again tomorrow with whatever people, I really dislike being antisocial, it's so in my nature you see.
Now I am watching The Boscombe Valley Mystery and am admiring the way in which Sherlock can extract the entire truth from anyone.

I should mention I have had a drink or two, so excuse the foul offences.
This reminds me that I need to catch up on Upstairs Downstairs tomorrow. Such a beautiful revival of a classic show.
Pip pip.
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