ASK LE FANTÔME @asklefantome - Tumblr Blog

Bonjour! What is your Hogwarts House?

What the devil is a Hog Wart?

Have you ever cringed at your older works? Like music you’ve written when you were a child or during your angsty teen phase?

First and foremost, I should like to clarify that my “angsty teen phase” appears to be a lifelong affliction from which there is no hope of escape.

And yes--unequivocally. “Too many notes,” as one particularly fussy critic once put it.

Yet I rarely make a habit of throwing my childhood works to the wolves of self-criticism--it is difficult to penalize a younger version of oneself when one was, perhaps for the last time, wholly and truly innocent. When music was one’s only resort and sole salvation.

But good God, it is an overture, not an entire symphony in and of itself. Absolutely exhausting.

Hello M. Fantome! I hope nothing has happened to you during your, um, very ambitious project. I'd like to ask you a question: I've heard rumors that you love Tostino's Pizza Rolls, especially when you're high. Is that true?

Good morrow.

Warmest thanks for your concern. I have emerged relatively unscathed.

The other parties, however...

Messy business. Loud. I rather dislike that sort of cacophony. Unless, of course, I am the cause of it.

As for the latter half of your inquiry, I’ve not the foggiest idea of where such a notion originated. It is utterly, blatantly false.

....I only love them when I am high. Good God, I am monstrous, but not to that degree; do you think me inhuman?

To whom it may concern:

All missives penned here shall cease for a temporary hiatus; I cannot say when. precisely, I will return, but rest assured, I cannot keep my mouth shut for overlong.

In the meanwhile, I will set off to parts unknown to complete a particularly ambitious...project...of sorts. As a forewarning: pay no heed to the news reports. They will undoubtedly prove either false or egregiously exaggerated.

Until circumstances resolve themselves into an environment more suitable for regular correspondence, I remain--

Your obedient servant,

O.G.

Do you like horses?

Very much. I am rather fond of most animals. They do not judge; they do not mock. They simply love. ....I cannot say as much for wolverines, however. Nasty, noisy buggers.

Do you like having your hand held? Are you a hand-holder?

Do you like a trail of Madagascar hissing cockroaches slowly sidling up your spine?

What is your ideal glass of wine?

Empty.

Step on me

Now, now. None of that, I say.

It's nice to see you back Erik! I'm glad you're still kicking about!

Kicking, stomping, flailing, screaming--the usual.

Ever injured your hands from practicing piano/violin/organ too long?

Oh, quite often. I do endeavor to take care so as to avoid injury, but among my many laudable virtues lies a rather spectacular temper, which occasionally vents its fury upon the keys, strings, and my fingers. Such instances are generally an...exorcism, of sorts, a futile attempt to rid myself of an overwhelming passion--fury, sorrow, longing......alcohol intoxication...

Monsieur Fantome, If you hate the English so much, why did you learn to speak their language? Your obedient friend, Ravenclaw0429

I am solely to please Shakespeare.

Hello Mr. Erik. How do you feel about receiving hand-made woolen socks from a complete stranger?

Would “complete stranger” be a clever linguistic mask for “Nadir Khan?” Because Daroga, I swear upon my last remaining thread of patience, if you foist another pair of those thrice-damned tangles of wool you call “socks” my way, I will personally shove them down your trachea. And before you protest, I present the evidence:

You take a sick pleasure in this. Do not deny it.

*hug*

I would sincerely rather not.

sup I hope you're doing well. I am I jst went to see an epic near perfect opera in a local haunted theater. apparently it was built on a pauper's graveyard. OUR ghosts don't demand salaries. One of them takes a box though. box 9, actually. cool stay out of too much mischief

Your ghosts are abominable failures, then. A perfectly laudable enterprise, post-mortem extortion. Who, I ask, shall the constables send after you? Ghost constables? I think not. Complete and utter immunity from prosecution. Your ghosts would do well to wise up and demand at least a modest monthly salary along with a box. It is simply a matter of common sense.

My I inquire as to how you get phone reception let alone wifi so far underground? Asking in case the woes of my everyday drive me subterranean as well.

I am nothing if not exponentially resourceful. (Read: foolishly stubborn to a fault.)

Make love to me

No. Shan’t.

Are you participating in the Area 51 raid?

Solely if the extraterrestrials in question agree to spirit me away from this godforsaken rubbish bin of a planet, yes.

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