It's the PBS guys who don't do anything for me. But I've loved RDJ for a long, long time.
This! The PBS guys in that picture would be funny, to me, but not at all sexy. (Although I do think they are wonderful in the show!)
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, nail polish, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
It's the PBS guys who don't do anything for me. But I've loved RDJ for a long, long time.
This! The PBS guys in that picture would be funny, to me, but not at all sexy. (Although I do think they are wonderful in the show!)
I need to be awake in less than six hours. Have I started packing my suitcase? Not so much.
I can imagine Cumbersquat tied up with very little problem. Freeman looming over him with gloves and a crop, no not at all.
I can imagine Cumbersquat tied up with very little problem
Mmm, yes.
Wait, was there a second sentence?
(And yet, in spite of my above post, I'm firmly in the RDJ IS PURE SEX camp when it comes to comparative Sherlockery.)
Due to relentless onslaught from tumblr I have come to really fully appreciate Martin Freeman, but I just don't think his Watson is sexy. Not like Jude Law is sexy, no.
However, I'm totally psyched for The Hobbit.
The stainless D-ring is an oversight I'm willing to forgive.
It could be nickel plated in that era.
The Boy agrees on the nickel plating, and also commented that rich folks would definitely have very fine leather goods, and a collar for a mastiff would easily fit a man's neck.
Then I *almost* got him to commit fic by speculating on whether Holmes was pantsless and whether his junk was, ah, similarly confined. But then he stopped. I think it was because I kept chanting, "Watson! Say 'Watson'!"
what are they doing for the pinched nerve? Just drugs?
Pretty much, yeah: Ativan for relaxants and Vicodin for the pain. They gave her exercises, but she's never going to do them.
Time for a wheelchair; even if she manages this, she's never gonna be fully mobile again.
Thanks, everyone, anyway. I am home with a glass of Two-Buck-Chuck and the box of (mediocre) Russell Stover candies my dad gave me for VDay. And The Good Wife on the telly woot.
And no exercise was had, at all. Pretty much a wasted day.
I'm pretty sure you got more than enough exercise with the stress alone.
I'm so sorry, Consuela.
Would you have any interest in going out and doing something frivolous either Sunday or next weekend?