Today, January 6th, is the (theorized) birthday of one of the world’s most popular literary figures, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Since my birthday is just around the corner, I’m in the “birthday spirit” and wanted to brag about sharing my Capricorniness with such a dynamic character. I also wanted to fangirl-out a bit over one of my most obsessed over fandoms: Sherlock (BBC/PBS) staring the dreamy and talented Benedict Cumberbatch and the amazing Martin Freeman.
The series is back with season 3 as of New Years Day and last night was the second episode of this season. Season/Series 3 doesn’t premiere in the US until later this month on PBS but this is 2014 and I pay for internet access on this beautiful macbook of mine so I’ve been keeping up with the Brits just fine, thank you. This season is amazing! Ah-maze-zing!
Obvi, Sherlock isn’t dead. The first episode he reassimilates into London society and within his own circle of friends, some of which knew he wasn’t really dead and others who were completely distraught over his “passing”, like his bestie fo real-real, Dr. Watson. Last night’s episode was quite possibly one of the best episodes of Sherlock ever. Drunk Sherlock, a wedding, a murder mystery (duh) and lots of cut-aways. A truly fantastic episode.
Since I’ve sung the praises of this show’s artistic and thought-provoking aspects (kudos, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss) I’d like to jump into my fangirl fantasy crush on ol’ Benny. Crush doesn’t even properly express the hormonal reaction I have to this man and his performances but it’ll have to do for now. This man causes me some serious ovarian pain. Honestly, I want to bare his children; I want my eggs Benedict. (see what I did there? yep… gross).
Never has my lusting for Mr. Cumberbatch been as strong as when I watched the scene in which he swings through a window, breaking it, shakes the glass off his coat with a flick, ruffles his hair and then grabs Molly Hooper by the face and kisses her good and hard:
Ugh… This does things to me… Things I love yet are incredibly frustrating things. (Are you there God, It’s Me, Kate.) Oh, to be kissed like that…
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