You know, I remember my school days quite clearly. Karl claims to have never have gone to school, and in a way that's true. He just scared the teachers so he rather ran the school rather than going to it.
Karl: Anna! Come over here, hmm?
Anna: You know Karl, I'm British. We're not even the same age. I really shouldn't be in this storyline.
Mary-Kate: Nor should I, really. I'm decades younger than you!
Karl: Oh dear. Well. I've got something more important than time paradoxes and such, hmm? See that girl over there?
Mary-Kate: That one?
Karl: The fatty, yes.
Mary-Kate: I'm just going to put my Margiela sunglasses on so I don't have to see her.
Anna: ..nevermind them not existing..
Margiela Sunglasses: We do exist! We're a real boy! We're a real boy!
Mary-Kate: Well now, mr. Martin Margiela sunglasses; you're going on my eyes.
Margiela Sunglasses: The hangover! The hangover!
Karl: Shhh! See that girl over there? She called me a snob.
Anna: I can't believe it!
Karl: Just because I'm wearing a Dior Homme jacket!
Anna: Horrible.
Karl: You know, we need to rise against this class warfare. It is so demode. Why can't they just leave the beautiful people alone? They don't get it.
And this is something that's quite true. "They" being the demode ones, don't get it.
You people who read this journal-thing-- diary? Anyway, you people who read this know what I'm talking about. It's horrible. It's so sad that only such a tiny fraction of people- and a tiny fraction of people "get" fashion. This...this...might be a tear. Don't tell.
Woman 1: Ohh! Let's buy this Chanel bag! It has lots of logos on it!
Woman 2: We must get this skirt! It's MARC JACOBS.
Woman 3: We must get this condom; it's BALENCIAGA.
Woman 2: But you're a lesbian.
Woman 3: It's BALENCIAGA.
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