As sweet as pie with arsenic in the crust, darling.
I don’t give clues to impersonators.
Oh, ouch! Resorting to name-calling? Such wit! Such dry, scathing wit! I don’t think my heart will ever truly recover from this, no no no.
But really sweetheart, if you’re going to insult me, can’t you do better than that?
I was wondering when you’d find me, love. If you really are Sherlock, that is, and not one of these neanderthals. As for the recklessness, well. I thought it was obvious that everything I do… I do it all for you.
Well? Where’s the “Welcome Back Jim, We’ve Missed You Ever-So-Much” party?
A bit of neither. It’s like watching monkeys trying to be smart. Cute until you remember that they’re dirty, smelly primates.
Oooh, expletives. Are we crabby today, sugar?
Any animal? Well I’ve never been a fan of those big, bad crime lords with their exotic animals coiled around their feet (I’m a showoff, but that is trying just a smidge too hard), so maybe a dog. It’d have to be a tiny little yipping one, though; Sebastian hates those.
Won’t be here for long though, just to answer a few questions and then I’ll be on my way. Hope you all are having a terrible day so far. ♥
NOW, I don’t have to listen to him giggle and ask me why people ask him such odd questions. He’s such a queen, with his “prissy little suits” You anons have provided me with endless ways to annoy Jim. Thank you.
As always.. Ask me anything! I’ll try to answer them to the best of my ability unless it’s personal.. I’ll answer everything anyways.
Seb, honey… You do realize I can read this, right?
I suppose I’ll be off to pay a surprise visit to an old friend, in that case. As always, it’s been fun! ♥
xoxo - JM
You think I’ll just tell you? But where would the fun in that be?
No, of course nottt. Wouldn’t bother with him if that were the case. He’s got a few things that keep him from being too, you know, ordinary.
Not “special”. Just endearing!
No, no, no. I don’t care at all, as long as I get something out of it.
Sometimes he gets this very angry look on his face — but it’s not the kind of look that he uses when he finds out I’ve used up all his shampoo, or misplaced his rifle, or that one time when I forgot about him and showed up for dinner two hours late. It’s the look when he’s pissed off and worried, not about me (I hate that look), but when he’s scared for his own life and too much of a “man” to show it. I find it endearing. Sort of like a proud animal about to have its skull crushed in by a boulder.
It’s adorable. Your banter is oddly entertaining. I knew someone would get under his skin eventually.
You know I always do.
Oh, but playing nice is so stale.
Not for free, sweetheart. Your offer?
But I thought we were connecting!
I would wonder about their state of mind. Then I’d get over it and give them my number.
Is it that obvious?
A nice face isn’t too bad, either.
Oh, you again! I knew I recognized that snark from somewhere. Shame about you not being Sherlock, but oh well. Can’t always get what you want. And as for the couch… hm. I’d say I’m a man of my word, but I’m really not.
Oh nooo, have I disappointed you? If I wanted someone to play riddle games with, I’d go looking for Sherlock. Unless of course, you are Sherlock hiding behind that silly gray mask — in which case, feel free to ask the question again, dear!
Poe wrote on both.
Gwine to run all night, gwine to run all day! Camptown ladies never sang all the doo dah day — no, no, no!
Met the ghost of Stephen Foster at the Hotel Paradise! This is what I told him as I gazed into his eyes: ships were made for sinking, whiskey made for drinking, if we were made of cellophane we’d all get stinking drunk much faster! HAHAHA!
Aww~ I don’t particularly care, love — I’ll take it as a compliment anyways. But hmm, besides Irish… I find all the ones I can imitate to be the sexiest. I know, I know, a little egotistical of me to say, but I wouldn’t be where I am today without some good old fashioned narcissism.
Not a huge fan of jam… or being called Jimmy boy.
What, you mean besides Sebastian? Just kiddingggg. I’ll admit I’m a sucker for homemade potato soup.
Depends on the woman! But in general? I don’t pay much mind to gender. I usually just lump boring women together with boring men. And most of them are… you know, boring.
It’s been entertaining, this chatting business, but unfortunately I’m on a tight schedule today. A few important
and painfully dull meetings to attend, wouldn’t you know. Not to fear! I’ll be back. And if you want to bother Sebastian with any uncomfortably personal questions, his blog is right here~ Anywho, toodles!
xoxo - JM
If you weren’t a gray, anonymous face on the web and I wasn’t a complete psychopath bent on helping the world along on its mission to destroy itself, this would be the part where I’d ask you out to dinner.
Oh, honey. I’ve noticed.
So you know what I’m getting at, then!
You started it, love. Calling my suits prissy, theoretically or notttt~
I like the way you think, Anonymous. Alas, I don’t think even the great Sherlock Holmes would notice the cute nickname, seeing as how it already sounds like I say “Jawn” with my accent. Oh well!
What? Who, me? Sarcastic? But my dear, sweet Donna! Haven’t you heard? Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit! Or, perhaps, wit is the highest form of sarcasm as Daniel Pericart once said. Hmm.
… No. And of course I know thaaat. But what would ever give you the idea that I would want to associate my name with the doctor and his — well, his jam fetish?
Hah! Good one.
No, no. After the incident with the cat, Sebastian and I both agreed it’s probably for the best. And of course~! Sebby, Seb, Sea Bass, ‘Bastian, Sebastard, Sebastian with a lisp, Sebastian with an overly flamboyant lilt, Sebastian backwards… It’s become a bit of a hobby of mine, looking for different ways of saying his name to bother him with.
No, not particularly! He’s not much of my problem anymore. But good luck trying to find something to match them with…
Whoops! Fixed it just for you, sweetie! You’ll have to forgive me for the error, it had been late and I was a bit tired after… well goodness, that’s actually really none of your business. Anywho! Oh please, do stop with the “I have no home for my dark and heartless soul” ordeal. You’re sounding much too ordinary and I was just beginning to like you. Though, I admit no one should have an uncomfortable couch. Perhaps I’ll install a new one for you the next time you’re out. Not guaranteeing it won’t be rigged with something unpleasant, but that’s half the fun of receiving unexpected presents in the first place!