The game's afoot

It's been full-on infatuation mode again. Since my birthday, I've been utterly besotted with the man bearing the most satisfying British name this anglophile has ever been privileged to utter: Benedict Cumberbatch. After nearly a full year had elapsed between my viewings of the first 20 minutes of the BBC series Sherlock and the last 70 minutes, I was both surprised and knocked out by the panther-like sexiness of this sharp-eyed creature. He possesses cheekbones to rival Cillian Murphy and talent as shiny as my own narcissism for adoring his gorgeous curly hair. That dark velvet Alan Rickman-esque voice sends shivers through my spine and girly parts, and the fact that he's going to be starring in movies for two of my absolute favorite geek franchises just slams the ovaries with desire on a daily basis. If I ever find out he's done any kind of Shakespeare, I'll have to stalk him for real.

Ben, sweetheart, where hast thou been all my life?

*UPDATE* He played Titania from MND. Oh, how I love a man in drag.
PS: Holy shite, he's really a redhead? Omg the narcissism never ends for me.