...way out on the corner of fucked up and evil...

Jonathan and I have invented a shiny new sport - tandam television watching. Watch TV with your loved ones even when you're miles apart! Basically, both parties get in front of their respective TV's and have the other party on speakerphone.

We've been trying it out all afternoon, and I'm proud to report it's a resounding sucess. I mean, how else am I going to get the chance to squeal 'Aw, he wants sex!' during that one scene in the Bruce Partington Plans and have Jonathan instantly know what I mean without us being in the same room?

Incidentally though, 'the Bruce Partington Plans' is not anywhere like as slashy as 'The Devil's Foot'. "I thought I knew my Watson," all together now, awww!

The debate of the day relates to Holmes' oyster rant in 'The Dying Detective'; I maintain that that speech would be funny no matter who said it (leaving aside obvious hideously unfunny exceptions like Hugh Grant, Graham Norton and all Americans, especially Jim Carrey), while Jonathan claims that nobody could be as funny as Jeremy Brett in that scene. All votes will be considered, except those that disagree with me.

Incidentally, does Holmes have some condition where he can't just say 'Mycroft'? All the way through the Bruce Partington Plans he refers to him as 'my brother Mycroft'. It gets annoying after a while.

You know, I really should be revising. I'm in very real danger of failing my exams this year. Oops.

If you could travel back in time, what would you do?

Aside from blasting Chinky Chinkerton with a laser gun when she asked me to work on the EU project with her, I'd like to travel back in time to when it was socailly acceptable to own a haram of boys. Ancient Rome or something. Maybe Greece or Venice. Wherever people were big with the boy-molestin'. And I'd warn myself not to watch Queen of the Damned, and not to cling to some foolish hope that it might not be as shitty as it looked.

Amassing an army of dinosaurs would be pretty cool, too. I could rule the world with them.

Oh, and I'd castrate Graham Norton's parents. Or maybe just kill them. And destroy their bodies, to prevent any chance of cloning.