Mood: Reports of slight drooling
Back in my college days, in the days of my guitar-strumming, pot-smoking, NIN-loving, star-gazing, stupid-friend-having first boyfriend, I was introduced to (among other thing) Liquid Television.
This was back before TRL and Ashanti and Bam Margera and all the shallow MTV shit that the kids love these days. This was back when the Real World was new and Julie the virgin wanted to be a dancer and Eddie Vedder hadn’t yet lost his cool. Or his flannel.
Liquid Television was weird and confusing and slightly dangerous. (Remember the bubble sound?) Especially when it came to an assassin named Aeon Flux. I’ve lost count of the nights I spent mesmerized in the blue glow, curled on a cracked leather couch in the basement of first boyfriend’s house, surrounded by all the paraphernalia of his rock band…guitar stands and keyboards and crumpled bits of rejected wrapping papers. And Aeon Flux with her big, big guns.
So I am DEFINITELY looking forward to being mesmerized all over again, come December, (only in front of a silver screen this time) as the ever-fabulous Charlize Theron brings an even sexier Aeon Flux to town.
Be still my heart.
-Lo, who was done for as soon as she heard about Charlize dyeing her blonde hair black.