Coiled up in an armchair with his black clay pipe between his lips

It was a stormy night, the house rocked with wind
My trusty sidekick Watson walked on in
"Wassup Holmes!" "Whats-on?" "Theres a man here to see you"
"Jimmy Mortimer, it's a pleasure to meet you"

Yup, so it took me four days before my stone-walled cell reached a temperature that fitted a living enviroment. Putting your trousers on while you're still wearing your slippers is difficult, but I made it damnit. And thankfully Tor the janitor had already plugged in my radiator before I came back which I'm really glad he did, though I'm still struggling with the whole "a man locked himself into my cell when I wasn't there"-thing. Ah, anyway the only dark secret he found out about me was that I had knitted a little cap for my teddy bear. And anyway, Tor the janitor is a really nice guy, always good for some chatting. And he has one elven ear, I'm not kidding, it looks better than anything in LOTR ever did. No wonder I like him.

Yesterday I watched The hound of the Baskervilles with Richard Roxburgh as Holmes.

Ah-one, two, three, four... *deep breath*

Why is it that in all newer Sherlock movies Holmes is always shooting up junk like it's coming out of fashion? I imagine it's the movie makers that are shocked to discover that Holmes used cocaine and morphine, and they think "Oh! That explains everything! We must tell this to the world!" and make him a mopy junky. If they're suddenly so interested in the Canon, why don't they try to read it for once? It's there, it's clearly written that Holmes would never, ever use drugs while on a (stimulating) case.

And Holmes would never panic in a mud-pit. So thar!

( I'm all warmed up now )

Why do I still watch all the Holmes movies I can find? It always disappoints me. Well, except The great mouse detective which is awesome, everybody knows that.


This is to this day my favourite Holmes illustration; By Sidney Paget for Silver Blaze. When I was younger (so much younger than today) I was bored and used to look up in the encyclopedia at random names I half-remembered, and when I got to Sherlock Holmes, this was the picture I saw. This is the picture that made me read the stories.

Well, now I plan to go brush my teeth (ZOMG NEARLY OVERSLEPT FOR BREAKFAST), go for a walk, take a shower, and then go back to my Wire in the blood book (how they managed to make such a great TV adaption from such a lousy series of books I will never know. It didn't stop me from reading until 3 am though *ashamed*.

Tales of the cat sanctuary

Don't get your mind blown, kids, but this is officially two posts in one day! Whoa man!

Actually I just met someone that made a big impression on me, and thought I'd advertise a bit.

You see, since I rarely have someplace to go on my (almost) daily trips, I usually stroll down to the cat sanctuary, though I haven't been there in a while now since the shifts are full and everything is running smoothly, but I still like to catch up with the newest adoptees.

So anyway, today when I arrived, no one on shift at the time, there was this little guy sitting by the window. There's a basket by the best window, and it's usually occupied by the bossiest of the cats living there, so I was surprised when I saw a black-and-white kitten. He seemed excited to see me, and when I walked up to him he immediately started tartin' up, you know, like kittens do; Flopping on the back, streeeetching, paws in the air, wavin' around like he just don't care (sorry, that was the Backstreet Boys).

So when I put my hand on the glass, bam! he struck his head against the window, trying to get to that sweet, sweet headcuddle. He kept doing this, so I started playing with him with my mitten instead, lest I should give him a cracked skull.

He was so sweet and affectionate that I kept talking and playing with him, though I started to lose sensation in my legs in the cold. It was just heartbreaking to leave him.

If he isn't adopted by the end of next week, I don't know what people are looking for in cats. And I've had some discussions about this, like with another adorable guy, Fenris. He had just been weened and was the craziest kitten you ever saw - he had recently found the joys of Jumpin On Stuff, and his biggest goal was to leap from the countertop to the table. He tried all day, until finally, he landed on the table (which was covered with paper and bills and books), slid gracefully clean across it, and landed in secretary Wenche's lap (along with all the said paper, bills and books). He was just so great that when I discovered he had fall asleep in my bag, I most of all wanted to gingerly get the bag, run to my cell, and cuddle and play with him till his head was spinning. And then get him back, of course. Anyway, a bit later that day somebody phoned and asked if we had any kittens up for adoption, and of course Fenris was discussed. It ended with the caller saying no, and do you know why?

He wanted something younger. If he wanted something younger than Fenris, he'd either have to buy a cat mother along with the kitten, or a fetus!

People are just idiots.

Maybe someday I'll show you a picture of Fenris, I have it on my mobile, but I don't have the technology. Why yes, I am in the stone age.

And when will people get that we are volunteers? Geez, all the time I've had to explain, no, this isn't a job as such, we don't get paid, sadly we have to make money in other ways. I mean, if they paid me money for this, you couldn't have pryed my fingers from the door of the sanctuary.