“Why do we want to idolise her? There are so many people we can idolise: Lawyers, Doctors, Poets, Novalists, Charity workers but no we need a new slaggy morph, why? Why would women want to act like her, think like her, talk like her, look like her. Women are beautiful. You don’t want to look like Jordan!”—
Stranger 1: HOW DID YOU KNOW
Stranger 1: SHERLOCK Stranger 1: you swine ;) Stranger 2: sherlock’s my neighbor
Stranger 1: Mrs Hudson?
Stranger 1: Hows your hip?
Stranger 2: hahahaha
Stranger 1: those soothers dont work y’know :/
Stranger 1: trust me, im a doctor
Stranger 1: LALALAAAAA TOMORROW 8:10pm
Question to discuss: Sherlockians and Whovians: Give me your Tumblr URL. I NEED MORE SEXY ON MAH DASH
Stranger 1: i want a sherlockian!
Stranger 2: I’m afraid, I can’t help with that.
Stranger 2: I got a blog though.
Stranger 1: yeah either can i :/
Stranger 2: About my slightly bizarre flatmate.
Stranger 1: not bad
Stranger 1: haha
Stranger 1: a blog about your flatmate?
Stranger 1: do tell
Stranger 2: Yes. He takes me along for cases to assist him.
Stranger 2: I’m a doctor.
Stranger 2: And he’s a genius.
Stranger 1: and he’s a..?
Stranger 1: ah
Stranger 1: and does what exactly?
Stranger 2: Solving crimes. ….and doing strange experiments in our kitchen.
Stranger 2: Oh, and lots of running.
Stranger 1: ah
Stranger 1: do you have a url i can stalk?
Stranger 1: i’m sure the spy is interested too
Stranger 2: http://www.johnwatsonblog.co.uk/
Stranger 1: haha okay i was a bit slow but i get it now :)
Stranger 2: I have to go. Sherlock wants something….
Stranger 1: lovely to meet you
Stranger 2 has disconnected
Sometimes I get a bit angry
But you couldn’t tell, no you couldn’t tell
Unless you looked real closely
Sometimes I get a bit angry
But it’s alright, yes it’s alright
Cause I keep it out of sight
Inside, deep inside
I breast fed ‘til I was nine
Which my -QUACK-… doctor says is fine
And he also says I’d deal with anger better
If I wrote about myself in a poem or a letter
My mother was a -STUPID BITCH-… caring lady
She taught me all I know
Although I was a little slow, she never gave up
She never let me -SLUT- down
Although she spent a lot of time at the neighbour’s house
When my dad was out of town
I didn’t walk ‘til I was seven, or talk ‘til I was ten
But neither did Napoleon, according to my -QUACK- -fucking- doctor
Who has certificates in frames
To substantiate his -Dodgy Fucking-… claims
My father left my mother for the love of a -PONTANG!-… nother
And I have a -Bastard- brother who I’ve never really known
Because me dad moved up to Queensland
And he doesn’t have a -Bullshit You Fat Cunt-… telephone
In primary school I had trouble making -ASHTRAYS-… friends
An issue which has become somewhat of a trend
The origin of which I can not pretend does not perplex me
Although my -Quack- -Fucking- doctor says it’s cool
And that loads of -“Fat Prick!” “SHUT UP I’m NOT FAT”-… kids at school
Have problems with communication
And that of course some medication would be wise
And combined with more honest self expression
Could help me with my issues with emotional repression
And at a hundred and eighty bucks a session
I think I’ll take the -Theiving Wank BASTARD- chap’s advice
I quite like -Porn-… photography
And books on -GUNS-… history
And I’d like to be a -POLITICIAN!-… vet
And I feel as I get older I’m more in control of my violent tendencies
And when I die -KILLLLLLLLLL-… and when I die I’ll have no regrets
And I feel that all this writing
Is really -Poofy- exciting
And my -Quack-… -Quack- doctor would be proud
Because I feel a lot less angry
And I’m saying stuff out loud
And I’m letting anger out
Like today in our last session
When I taught the -Quack- a lesson
‘Cause he said I’m not progressing
Said I wasn’t moving forward
So I said, “Let’s see how you move without your fucking legs.”
And I tied him to his chair
And I pulled out my machete
And I listened to him beg
And then I cut his fucking feet off
And while he laid there bleeding I used his feet
To kick him in the head.
A friend of mine randomly got a drunk text from a stranger. She then did something that has earned my respect and awe. A transcript of her conversation follows. Some of this may be familiar to you.
Warning:VERY LONG. Also, words that I don't like have been bleeped out. Use your imagination.
[Transcript] Drunk Person:"tortyly drunk riht now. straight men everwhere."
Erykah:"Oh, thank God! I finally made contact! Listen, I need your help, but you're in great danger."
DP:"ni**a say wat?"
E:"Listen, my name's the Doctor. I'm a time traveler, or I was. I'm stuck in 1969 with my friend and I need your help to get my spaceship back."
DP:"u hav a spceshit?"
E:"Yes. It's a big blue box that says 'Police Call Box' on it."
DP:"dat doesnt sound liek a spceshp. gay."
E:"Hey! Don't diss the TARDIS!"
E:"No. TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. You see, I'm a Time Lord from ANOTHER planet called Gallifrey."
DP:"y u not there now?"
E:"Well...A long time ago, there was a war and all my people died except for me. I'm the last Time Lord. So I travel through time and space lending a hand wherever I can."
DP:"woahhhh. thats relly sad."
E:"Yes, it is. But now is no time to cry. You're in a lot of danger and you need to help me."
DP:"waot. how r u in 1996?"
E:"I'm in 1969. And it's really complicated."
E:"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff."
E:"Well, try and keep up! Never mind the wibbly stuff. All that matters is that they've taken it! The angels have the phone box."
E:"Have you ever seen like a statue of an angel? At a church or a cemetary or something?"
E:"Well, they're not angels. They're creatures from another worlds. Aliens like me, except they're very, very bad."
DP:"dat maeks sense. they alwys creepeed me out. i thought theyre jus statues tho."
E:"Good eye, you've got. But they're not. They're only statues when you're looking directly at them. Once you look away, they become deadly."
E:"Listen, Lonely assassins, they were called. No-one knows where they came from. They're as old as the universe, or very nearly. They've survived this long as they have the most perfect defence system ever evolved. They are quantum-locked. They don't exist when being observed. The moment they're seen by any other living creature they freeze into rock. No choice. It's a fact of their biology. In the sight of any living thing, they literally turn to stone. And you can't kill a stone. Course, a stone can't kill you either. But then you turn your head away, then you blink, and oh, yes it can! Notice how they always look like they're crying in the cemetaries? They're always covering their eyes?"
DP:"dats nuts! ya, ive seen dat."
E:"There's a reason for that. They're not weeping, they can't risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest curse. They can never be seen. The loneliest creatures in the universe. And I'm sorry, I am very, very sorry, it's up to you now.
DP:"but wut can i do? tis was all thrustted uopn me!"
E:"The blue box, it's my time machine. There is a world of time energy in there they could feast on forever. The damage they can do can switch off the sun. You have got to send it back to me!"
DP:"ahhhhhh!!! im scrrd! idk wut 2 do! im srsly gon hav a pnic attck."
E:I'm afraid I can't help you any further. I'm stuck in 1969, but I think you're clever enough to think of something. FIND THE BLUE BOX AND GET IT BACK TO ME! The angels have it and you NEED to find it or it's all going to be over."
DP:"dont go doctr! help me!11211!!"
E:"They're coming. The angels are coming for you. But listen, your life could depend on this. Don't blink! Don't even blink. Blink and you're dead. They are fast, faster than you can believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink! Good luck!"
DP:"ik! angels hng out in gravyards rite? ill check thar 1st."
E:"Wherever you feel the need to look. I have no idea because I'm trapped 42 years in the past. Wherever you do go, just remember DON'T BLINK."
DP:"omfg. holy shit. i'll find teh box and teh angels and ill text u wen i find it. goodbi doctr. uve liked changgged me life."
giggling-cunt (kudos if you get the reference)
g-g-r-e-i-n (props again if you get it)
Ebonilocundralescolden (the name of my Time Lord persona, aka the Dreamer.)
“Imagine what Tony would think, standing there on his brand new feet on the brink of the beginnings of man kind as we know it, if he could look forward just a few short….hundreds of millions of years, to see one of his decendants. An Israeli Jew by the name of Jesus having a nail hammered through his feet, the very feet that Tony provided him with, as a punishment for having a sort of schizophrenic discourse with a God who was created by Man to explain the existance of feet in the absence of the knowledge of the existance of Tony.”—Tim Minchin (via mostlyminchin)
“Fuck the motherfucker, and fuck you motherfucker
If you think that motherfucker is sacred
If you cover for another motherfucker who’s a kiddy-fucker
Fuck you, you’re no better than the motherfucking rapist
And if you don’t like the swearing that this motherfucker forced from me
And reckon it shows moral or intellectual paucity
Then fuck you, motherfucker, this is language one employs
When one is fucking cross about motherfuckers fucking boys.”—Tim Minchin, on the Pope. (via snapeshapedhole)
“This is my body and I live in it. It’s [twenty-one and ten months] old. It’s changed a lot since it was new. It’s done stuff it wasn’t built to do. I often try to fill it up with wine. And the weirdest thing about it is I spend so much time hating it, but it never says a bad word about me.
This is my body and it’s fine. It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.”—Tim Minchin | Not Perfect (via saradactylmichelle)