Well I'm fortunate enough to be blogging this evening, due to my mother burning some oil in a wok, and smoking us all to within an inch of our lives, and receiving mild smoke inhalation and streaming eyes. It was, however, an event to liven up my usual monotonous routine of university research, facebook loitering and watching and reading Sherlock Holmes.
Which brings me to my new animalistic want for Benedict Cumberbatch, a unusually old style name that a girl like myself can only dream of, plus a voice that takes me by suprise everytime he opens his mouth, and can only be likened to the rich smoothness of coffee. Believe me, if beverages from Starbucks could speak, my God, they'd all sound like him.
xxxx
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