Dear Nincompoop: The Journal Of Sherlock.

[bubiza]

Before we continue, I would like to point out that this is a journal.
J-O-U-R-N-A-L.
And don't expect me to get all close to you.
Oh, look. I'm doing it already. Referring to you as you're real. Great.
Well, Mum said I should have a picture of me in here, so I can look back on this later.

The name's Sherlock, by the way. My parents decided that hey, they could raise their own Hounds of Baskervilles!
What a great idea. Not.
So, here is the rest of my family:

Mum:

She's absolutly crazy, and used to be a hippy. Sadly, she still inflicts these traits on us, and our meals normally consist of musli cakes and Miso soup.

Dad:

Dad is also crazy. Since he lost his job he decided not to take life seriously and goes around wearing stuff he finds in trashcans. And has a habit of embarrassing me.

Mycroft:

Mycroft is my older brother. See what I meant about my parents thinking that it would be cool if we were all named after the characters of Sherlock Holmes? Anyway, me and him don't really get on. He's seven years older than me, and has some posh job somewhere, and still lives with us. But really, he's stupid. I can outsmart him if I want.

Watson:

Watson is the baby of the family, and is a year younger than me. We get on, but not like super-duper-best-friends. He's kinda like, y'know, clever, but not amazingly intelligent.

So there you go. My amazing family, you journal-who-I-seem-to-be-talking-to-although-you-are-not-real. Maybe if I hide you somewhere, then I won't have to write like this. Nobody shall ever know.
From, *ha!*
Sherlock
PS: I feel like an asinine nincompoop, signing off like that. >.<

[bubiza]

Oh, yay. Looks like I'm writing to you AGAIN.
I hid you behind the bookcase in my room, but Mum decided that my room needed tidying. So she was moving stuff around, and found YOU.
"Sherlock, how could you neglect your diary like that?" she cried. I swear she was almost crying.
"It's a journal. And it doesn't have feelings." I replied.
"Everything has feelings, Sherlock. Even diaries." And with that, she walked off.
WHAT. LE. FUDGE?
Anyway, she also told me that I have to give YOU a name. Whoop-De-Doo.
So you are now called.... Nincompoop. It suits you very well.
After our little chat about your journal rights, I went downstairs to get some food. I met Watson there, who was eating a bacon butty with mayonnaise. He's always had a strange taste in food, but can't stomach Mum's cooking. Me and him, we have an alliance, and keep normal food hidden, and just eat it. Otherwise we'd be eating beans and musli and other rabbit food. Mycroft eats at wherever he works, and has caviar and smoked salmon and other posh things that sound disgusting. I filled in Watson about the entire conversation about you, and he cracked up laughing.
"Why must our parents be nutters?" he asked. I honestly don't know.
Anyway, it turns out that HE has to keep a journal too. And Mycroft, too, although he's trying to get out of it.
"Well, good luck with that one." I muttered. But Mycroft is a lucky duck, bearing in mind he's an adult, and can move out of the house whenever he wants. For me, it's years away.
At dinner, Mum happened to raise the subject about how we must care for our diaries, since they Cost Money and Have Feelings and we should Think About The Trees And The Time And The Effort gone into making them. And how we should Give Them Names And Treat Them Like Another Member Of The Family.
Well, good luck with that one, Nincompoop. You can be the goldfish of the family. And if you're not careful, I'll flush you down the toilet.
Sincerely,
Sherlock.
PS: We're back to school tomorrow. Yay. Not.

[bubiza]

HIYA! :3

Welcome to the Journal of Sherlock! Thanks for clicking and reading and feel free to post comments and ways to improve. By posting comments, it makes me feel that I'm not just writing this for the sake of it. And if not a lot of people comment, then I might stop writing.
In fact, do this nice little form:

Code: Select all

Userame:
Rate out of 10:
Who's ya favorite charrie?
How do I improve?
Are you a stalker? o.O
Any Extra Info that you feel like talking about:

See? It's nice and easy to do stuff!
And here's a picture of a dancing cat, because I heard chu like cats...

So, yeah, fill the form or do your own or just do nothing except post ponies.

[bubiza]

~THIS SPACE IS RESERVED IF YOU WANT ME TO ADVERTISE YOUR STORY/DIARY/CAT.~
Rules:
1. Send me a PM please, so this doesn't get full of spam and makes it harder to read.
2. I''m only going to advertise your diary/story/cat if you've read mine and commented a couple of times. And I'll read yours, because I'm kind.
3. That's it for rules... Now let's continue with the Journal.

DIARIES/STORIES/CATS THAT I RECOMMEND FOR YOU TO READ:
TIAJNAD series
2030: The Year of the Dog Slaves

[honeybug]

Userame: ...Pacothebleedintaco.
Rate out of 10: 8.73740925843535
Who's ya favorite charrie?: Mycroft. He's fit. LOLJK. I think teh mum. She's a fantastic nutter.
Are you a stalker? o.O: yes, yes indeed. I KNOW YER NAME, I KNOW YER SKYPE.
Insert your favorite meme in the space below: nyan cat. >.>
Any Extra Info that you feel like talking about: I liek chu. >.> ^-^

[bubiza]

Userame: ...Pacothebleedintaco.
Rate out of 10: 8.73740925843535
Who's ya favorite charrie?: Mycroft. He's fit. LOLJK. I think teh mum. She's a fantastic nutter.
Are you a stalker? o.O: yes, yes indeed. I KNOW YER NAME, I KNOW YER SKYPE.
Insert your favorite meme in the space below: nyan cat. >.>
Any Extra Info that you feel like talking about: I liek chu. >.> ^-^

Thank chu Paco! ^O^

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,
I sound like an idiot, but I can't risk Mum getting mad at me. I'm sure she has physic powers of some sort. For instance, last night she told Mycroft to start writing in his diary. She doesn't understand that we have journals, not diaries.
Anyway, today was the first day back at school. I saw some of the people who I would consider acquaintances. I don't really do friends.
Well, here they are.

Angie

Angie's a tomboy, and not like the other girls. She's amazing at sports and a bit of a scatterbrain, really. Oh, yeah. She's also a punk.

Diesel

Me and Diesel have known each other for years. He's good at hacking into things, and doesn't exactly talk much. Which therefore makes him a good companion when I need to solve things.

So that's about all the introductions, nincompoop.
School was the usual. Lessons, homework, talking about nothing, all the teachers yakking on about Mycroft. It's really annoying. When he was at my school, he was a Prefect, and then Head Boy. He was also the head of half of the teams, and won awards for the school for loads of sports events. The teachers just use him as an example.
"When Mycroft was here, he never handed in his homework late."
"When Mycroft was here, he was proud to represent the school."
I'm surprised they don't get a Mycroft Award for those who act like Mycroft. And the downside is that because he's my brother, they expect me to be exactly the same as him. Sadly, my skills don't extend to PE, and just to Maths and Science, in which I'm ahead of everybody else. But don't worry, nincompoop. I'm rubbish at everything else.
After school, me, Angie, Diesel and Watson walked home together. They don't mind Watson, as he can do an amazing impression of Mycroft. He had us in fits of laughter.

Dinner tonight was something that didn't look edible. It was supposed to be stew, but there were a variety of interesting objects inside. Mum and Dad brought up the subject again about our journals. They seriously need to stop taking this so seriously.

From,
Sherlock.

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,

Mycroft has a girlfriend.
She's called Penelope, and is incredibly posh.
This is Penelope:


Mycroft has had some really weird girlfriends before. Such as this girl who called herself Raven Princess.


And then there was Charlie, who could have been a man, but we're not sure.


Mum and Dad love Penelope. They say she might be The One. But they said that about Charlie. And Raven Princess.
Me and Watson don't like Penelope. She's stuck up, and says that she knows Mycroft through work. Although, thinking about it, he might work for her.
After school today, Angie and Diesel came round. That was when we found out about Penelope and Mycroft. Dad was like, "Hey guys! This is Penelope! She's Mycroft's new girlfriend!"
And we all looked at her. She looked back at us and stood up.
"Salutations. My name is Penelope." she said, in some really posh voice.
"Salutations to you too." I replied.
"You need elocution lessons. Mummy and Daddy have sent me to them since I was five, so I can learn to speak properly, unlike the common people."
For some reason, Angie found it really funny when she said "Mummy and Daddy." Watson did too.
Diesel, however, decided to talk, which is rare for him.
"Gawdon Bennet! Hello ter yew an' all, Penelope. Me an' me friends 'ave just come 'ome from school, an' it's nice ter meet you. OK?" he said, in a perfect Cockney accent.
And she just looked at us in disgust. It was priceless.
Mum and Dad shooed us away, telling us that Penelope was Very Important to Mycroft, and that he was Happier Than He Normally Was, and that we Shouldn't Ruin Moments Like This, nor Tease People Because Of The Way They Speak.
I'm feeling a bit peckish, so I'm going to get something to eat.

Later...

Me and Watson have just found out that Penelope is staying the night. So that means that I have to sleep in Watson's room on the floor. I'm not happy about this.
I mean, I don't mind sharing with Watson, as we get on quite well, but I do mind that Penelope being in my room with my stuff. I bet you anything that something is going to be broken tomorrow.
What is she sleepwalks?
What if she snores?
What if she wants revenge over what Diesel did?
Why is she even sleeping at our place anyway? From what we've heard, she lives in a manor house down the road, and has five bedrooms to herself. She doesn't need to sleep here.
Therefore, I have decided that there's a mystery that needs solving. I live up to my name, and love mysteries.
Well, unless it involves Penelope sleeping in my room.
Watson also loves them, and serves as my sidekick. So we've decided to work out what is going on.
He's looking around for clues, like any good sidekick does. Meanwhile, I'm thinking of all the possibilities. So far, I have a list of posibilites.
1. She loves Mycroft so much she can't be in a different building from him.
2. She's planning on murdering me and Watson after what Diesel did to her.
3. She's trying to manipulate my parents into liking her, so she can marry Mycroft and then kidnap him.
4. She's lazy and can't be bothered to go home.
5. Something fishy is going on at her house and she's staying here.
6. She works for a top secret organization and there's a plan involving us and something else.
7. She wants to make us breakfast tomorrow, so she's staying and planning on working on it through night.

Number seven seems unlikely, but I have to think of everything.
Watson's just came back, and he's found Mycroft's journal.
"We could find out how he met her." he suggested.
Brilliant. Except...
Mycroft's journal has a lock.
Me and Watson never got a lock for OUR journals.
"You need to crack the code, Sherlock. And reasonably fast, or Mycroft will notice." Watson said.
As if I didn't know already?
So, nincompoop, I'm going to try and work out this code, so we can get on with this mystery.
Sincerely,
Sherlock.

[bubiza]

Dear Nincompoop,
Me and Watson are officially scared.
Dad has just come back from a walk and found a sheep costume covered in paint stains.
And he's wearing it now.
Why must my parents be insane, frugal hippies who think it's acceptable to go around dressed as a sheep, and think that journals have feelings? Why can't they be normal?
But we're not here to discuss the sanity of my parents. We're here to work out what Penelope is up to.
All we know is that she snores. Loudly. Otherwise I'd be asleep.
We can't work out the code of Mycroft's journal, either. For some stupid reason, Mum and Dad gave him an electric journal, so the code could be anything. Watson's tried PENELOPE and CHICKEN and MYCROFT IS AWESOME but it's none of those.
But it's a good job I'm a detective. I'm taking a closer look at his journal.
The rules of passwords: Always use gloves to avoid detection. Otherwise your fingerprint is visible on where you've touched.
Oh. Right.
It seems that Mycroft does use gloves when doing his password.
So now we're stuck. Mum and Dad don't believe in computers, so we can't use anything to hack into it.
Unless....

Five minutes later I'm on the phone to Diesel.
In the bathroom. What? It's two in the morning. I can't exactly ring him out in the open.
And it doesn't help that the bathroom is tiny. And there's no where to put YOU, nincompoop. Except in between my toes.
Finally, Diesel answers. This is how our conversation goes. He's in black. I'm in that navy color.
Diesel? I need to talk to you.
It's too early...
Penelope's sleeping in my bedroom. And it's important.
I don't care. Tell me tomorrow. Oh, wait. Later today. Since it's two in the morning.
This is a matter of life and death, Diesel. Started by you.
I haven't done anything.
You did, with the entire Cockney accent thing.
Let me sleep...
Me and Watson think that Penelope's going to murder us. And we need your help.
What do you want me to do? Become a stunt double? Look, call the Police.
Diesel, we need to know how to hack into an electronic journal.
Um... Why?
Because it will contain the clues into what Penelope is doing in my room, snoring her posh little head off.
You need to... Oh, I'll need to see it. It depends what model it is.
I don't think I can wait, though.
Oh, whatever. I'm coming round, OK? Leave your window open.

So, fifteen minutes later, Diesel jumped through our window and poking at this electronic journal.
"Have you cracked it yet?" Watson asked.
"No." he replied, still fiddling around with it.
I sat there looking out of the window, trying to work out what was going to happen next.
Finally, Diesel cracked it.
"I brought this USB device, which corrupted the diary by rewriting the HTML code inside." he muttered.
"Right." Watson doesn't really understand computer talk. I sort of do, because of the detective work.
Well anyway, Nincompoop, I'm going to have a look at this electronic journal and see what we can uncover.

Later...

We're still reading Mycroft's journal. It's pretty boring.
And he's only done three entries. I shall write them in green.

Mum's making us keep these journals. A twenty-two year old shouldn't need to keep one.
So I'm going to be brief.
In my family there is a bunch of loonies. Mum's a hippy. Dad gets stuff out of trashcans. Sherlock solves mysteries. Watson helps him. None of my family are sane, except me. They have no talent. Well, Sherlock kind of does. He's pretty clever, I'll give him that.
Got a kebab today, instead of dinner. It was bean muffins. Yuck.

Today was work. I couldn't be bothered to write anything yesterday. Mum's gone mental. She thinks that journals have feelings. Yeah, right.
Anyway, at work today, nothing much happened.

At work today there was a new boss. Her name is Penelope. She's very nice, and kind, and the best boss ever. I really like Penelope, and I think she's amazing.
There is nothing bad about Penelope whatsoever.

"Somebody's in love..." Diesel muttered.
"Yeah..." Watson replied.
I kept silent. You see, I have a theory forming, but I need to see more evidence.
I'll write more later; I seriously need to sleep.
Sherlock.

[• DEFY THE CAPITOL •]

Userame: ╬JesusFreak╬
Rate out of 10: 9.... because you haven't written much yet, but I'm sure I'll change it to 10 once there's more entries!
Who's ya favorite charrie? Uh.... Sherlock, of course.
Are you a stalker? o.O DUH!
Insert your favorite meme in the space below: What's a meme?
Any Extra Info that you feel like talking about: You are AWESOMESAUCE!