I see that now I once again have to change my password… Thank you for that again Sherlock…
You would see this all as flattering and assume that I’m a lovesick teenager writing about you. Sherlock my writing is nothing more than what happens on a case and what I pull from my writings to give the readers.
I simply choose sections that may hold more interest to them than the entire case would as I can assure you, that none of them have the attention span to read it all- sorry Greg; I know you’ll read this; but you know it’s true- the way I do to transcribe it all.
And now that you’ve mentioned the tearing off of my clothes they will talk. Bravo Holmes. Bravo.
And lovely. I am so glad to know that you know my girlfriend’s mind, Mister Holmes. Thank you for that insight. But may I remind you that it is people you know that think we are a couple even as they do not know me and so they think that you, Sir, are gay as well.
But I forget! You’re asexual- you can’t be gay! Right…
I think I should just give up on owning a computer with you around, Holmes…I can’t keep my password private and I can’t seem to keep you off of it…Lovely…
John, really all this is quite flattering. But if you want people to not talk I would advise you to not write about me like a love sick teenager. People will talk about this more than me tearing your clothes off at the pool. Imean what if your most recent girlfriend saw this….honestly. She already thinks your gay by the way.
P.S. Your security is still rubbish.
“’It it wonderful!’ I exclaimed.
‘It is obvious.’”
“To Holmes, as I could see by his eager face and peering eyes, very many other things were to be read upon the trampled grass. He ran round, like a dog who is picking up a scent, and then turned upon my companion. ‘What did you go into the pool for?’ he asked.
‘I fished about with a rake. I thought there might be some weapon or other trace. But how on earth-‘
‘Oh, tut, tut! I haven’t the time!’”
“Lestrade and I walked behind him, the detective indifferent and contemptuous, while I watched my friend with the interest which sprang from the conviction that every one of his actions was directed towards a definite end.”
“Sherlock Holmes was transformed when he was hot upon a scent as this. Men who had only known the quiet thinker and logician of Baker Street would have failed to recognize him. His face flushed and darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, while his eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. His face was bent downward, his shoulders bowed, his lips compressed, and the veins stood out like whipcord in his long, sinewy neck. His nostrils seemed to dilate with a purely animal lust for the chase, and his mind was so absolutely concentrated upon the matter before him that a question or remark fell unheeded upon his ears, or, at the most, only provoked a quick, impatient snarl in reply.”
“I did not wonder at Lestrade’s opinion, and yet I had so much faith in Sherlock Holmes’ insight that I could not lose hope as long as every fresh fact seemed to strengthen his conviction of young McCarthy’s innocence.”
“…finally returning to the hotel, where I lay upon the sofa and tried to interest myself in a yellow-backed novel. The puny plot of the story was so thin, however, when compared to the deep mystery though which we were propping, and I found my attention wander so continually from the action to the fact, that I at last flung it across the room and gave myself up entirely to a consideration of the events of the day.”
“…’Lestrade, being rather puzzled, has referred the case to me, and hence it is that two middle-aged gentlemen are flying westward at fifty miles an hour instead of quietly digesting their breakfast at home.’”
[I have to force him to eat anything at all half the time…]
“’It is really very good of you to come, Watson,’ Said he. ‘It makes a considerable difference to me, having someone with me whom I can thoroughly rely on. Local aid is always either worthless or else biased.’”