Like drinking something thick and sweet

[gement]

Ribena, perhaps. (Ever had that stuff? Pure toothrot.)

One good late-night Forever Knight binge (I even watched the third episode during the correct CBS time slot) and it's worked its magic. Again, the years of shame and apology are washed away, and I have no idea why I ever looked at the ground when I said, "Yes, I may have been a rabid fan of that show..."

Aside from the ham-handed scripts and School of Lestat acting, of course. At midnight, alone, when I can yell at the screen, even those somehow add to the experience, like the dregs in a cup of Turkish coffee. (Don't drink the cup.)

But I remember again that, actually watching him, even with his whining excuse for a conscience, I didn't hate Nick. He's kind of cute. Even if he is almost wearing a neon sign over his head reading, "I AM ALLERGIC TO SUNLIGHT, GARLIC, CROSSES, AND THE SIGHT OF BLOOD, DON'T YOU GET THIS YET?"

As a side note to my dear annissag, I have now seen the infamous "Flintstone vitamin" incident you once told me about. I get it now. It was a garlic pill. It's much funnier as a Flintstone vitamin.

Lacroix can still be my daddy any day, though. Some things never change.

Edit: There were a couple things I wanted to say, but the entry is already quite long for the non-Knighters in the crowd, so I put them in a comment.

Comments

Re: hating Nick

[gement.livejournal.com]

It was one of those things that happened in retrospect. In retrospect he was such a self-conflicted hypocrite that I couldn't remember how I had ever stood to watch him, just like I couldn't remember Janette's hair looking like anything but a deranged gothic crow's nest.