y body craves for the touch of mashed potatoes, the soft white flesh of the vegetable sliding over my body. i havent slept in fifteen days. only the beautiful rapturous gooey white semi solid plant matter inspires me to continue living. sometimes i like to imagine that the mashed potatoes have accepted me as their loving partner. oh can i dream.
petition for a doctor who episode where the doctor travels back in time to meet arthur conan doyle and accidentally happens to mention how popular sherlock holmes is even 130 years later and poor acd almost breaks down crying
"Doctor before you leave…just tell me one thing." "What’s that?" "My books, the Sherlock Holmes books…do they die out?" "No, Arthur. People love them. They carry on for hundreds of years." "Damnit. God damnit. Fuck."
Didn’t Arthur say he’d be annoyed if his only legacy was Sherlock?