Back from the Ashes

I really do wonder if many of you can read. I write in English most of the time, and I gather most of you speak English- so one would hope that you can all read the entries on this blog. Yet, a few of you apperently cannot read English, as evidenced by delightful comments such as "this doesn't sound like you" in reference to Bob Dylan's post. Of course Bob Dylan does not sound like me, because I am not Bob Dylan. Obviously someone cannot read bylines.

Yet another "reader" said that I wrote a poem about Rei Kawakubo a long time ago. Again, there is this wonderful thing called "bylines", which if you had bothered to read you'd realize the poem was by Rei Kawakubo. Golly goose. Are you all morons? How do you even breath, hmm?

Thank you to You Know Who I Am for her comment. I love you too, dear. Even if you're also creepy (and have tourettes). And thank you to Ronald and R- is there something about the R's today? Your comments entertained me.

So! Where have I been? I've been busy with a swan, to be honest. I'm sure you've all read my quote about how a swan captured me- I think one of those British newspapers published it, I don't really pay attention to their names. I pay attention to how they smell.
Anyway, after I talked about the evil swan who captured me as a child, I decided to go find that swan. I went back to Germany and went to the pond where that swan lived, and there it was- white and mean looking. It must've been 80 years old by then, yet it was still alive. It glared at me. I glared back. It glared harder. I glared even harder, until I realized that he probably couldn't see my glare very well since I was wearing my dark sunglasses. I took off my sunglasses.

"It's young Karl!" the swan exclaimed.
"It's you," I said.
"Where are your lederhosen, Karlie?" the swan said, in that silver-white voice of his.
"I do not wear lederhosen! I wear suits!" said I.
The swan leered at me.
"What business do you have here, young boy?" said the swan.
"First of all, I am not a young boy anymore. I am certainly not old, yet I'm not this young boy you are talking out. I don't even like children. They're obnoxious. I have a daughter, you know. What sort of young boy has a daughter? Apart from those in the British tabloids, of course. She's chic like me. And she's not a swan."
"I would hope not", says the swan haughtily; his head held high above the water.
"How have you been?"
"Not bad- but it's such a horror- every time a swan dies, they play a swan song. It is always the same one. The one by Saint-Saëns- on cello. All weepy and so on."
"I know the one."
"It simply gets repetitive- frankly, I loath the fact that Saint-Saëns wrote the piece in the first place! Before that swans just died like normal creatures- no music or anything. Then that dreadful man wrote that dreadful piece of music."
"I'm not a big Saint-Saëns fan myself."
"Oh, if you were I, you'd want to hunt the man down and throttle him with your beak."
"He was very clever though, no?"
"Oh yes- virtuoso kind of music. Violin concerto, organ symphony, and so on. But so emotionless. I mean, that's the only music swans play- Saint-Saëns. I do wish for...something else."
"Mozart?"
"Sounds the same."
"Schubert?"
"Non, non!"
"You're meant to be a German swan."
"Ja"
"Why not Schubert?"
"Too many fat German ladies sing him."
"Paganini?"
"Show off."
"Ysaye?"
"Belgian."
"Beethoven?"
"Oh dear...I actually rather like Beethoven. Drat."
"What were we talking about anyway?"
"Don't worry about it, you're only a guest star."

In other news, I've been recording vocals- sounds like I'm a singer- for the "Totally Spies!" movie. I play the villain. I thought to myself "Now Karl, if I were a 12 year old French girl, would I like this movie?" The answer was "no", because I'm better than everybody else, but maybe if I was normal. Actually, maybe not, but I did it anyway. I like villains, who doesn't? They get better outfits.

Things that are Demode

I just read Anna's post. Actually, I had it printed out then sent to Paris for the double C for Chanel labelling then sent back here. Pretty amazing what you can do these days, hmm?
I would just like to say: why wasn't I in the Devil Wears Prada?

I don't mean me but a person representing me, like that little actress representing Anna. She was too human. I bet there was blood flowing under her skin, even. But no- no Karl in this movie. I was excluded from Robert Altman's fashion movie as well.

So those movies are demode. Demode demode demode.

How can you have a fashion movie without Karl Lagerfeld anyway?

By the way, I am wearing my Dior Homme shoes made especially for me out of unicorn skin. (Take that PETA). I bet they're better than Anna's. Though I did send her some Fendi shoes made out of fur.

I bet my brand new Dior Homme collection that they're better than Anna's. (Which is a bit like betting a dead cat or a LV bag, or Armani's tanning product).

I do have an idea for a movie about me though. It will be the tale of a young boy growing up in a Castle in Germany. Like Hannibal Lecter apart from it's better. If you know who Hannibal is you probably have bad taste and are therefor demode anyway, hmm? I was subjected to listening to some creature who works at a certain non-Vogue magazine talking about him.