I’ve said it before, and I’m going to say it again. Everyone don’t worry, forget about soldiers losing their limbs in Iraq, push aside your fears of failing to make that mortgage payment, and hey, who needs a bloody pension anyway? There’s going to be a Royal wedding, hoorah!
Hopefully, I’ll receive that section paper I applied for, anything to escape the media bollocks, and a year’s worth of guesswork by salvating Royal correspodents, who are all brown-nosing for an invite to the big bash. Yes guys, we’ve got a whole heap of extra nauseous column inches to put up with, so you better make plans now if you want to avoid the gushing drivel.
A venue we have, so that’s one item out of the way, but that’s the least of our worries. To add to the media melee, and the rumour mongering, it will be nothing compared with the fashion frenzy that is about to unfold. Dresses, shoes, morning, evening and ’20 past 12′ suits will all have to be handmade by Filipino monks that haven’t been born yet! Ladies-in-waiting, who are hired just to wait, will still be waiting long after the ceremony is over. And the next guessing game to come is; where will the newlyweds go on their honeymoon? Who gives a shit! And let’s not forget about the mug-fest that will invade the shops. My guess is that they will be on sale before Christmas, with the hope that the sales will outdo the ones made for Charles and Diana. I mean Jesus, there’s already five books out about the bloody subject, with a promise of more to come. Let’s face it, it’s just one big fundraiser for England isn’t really!
The Queen has extended the Royal invitation to meet the in-laws. The bride’s parents must think they’ve won the European lottery five times over! And what better way to meet Kate’s mum, than invite her up to Balmoral to shoot something feathery! After blasting a range of flappers to pieces, they can sit down and discuss the the prenuptial agreement, once a physician has checked Kate’s capability for firing out a son and and heir. Day two will be totally taken up with more ‘gell’s talk’ – hair, flowers, bridesmaids and page boys, and the invite list, followed by a rough tot up of how many sausage rolls and spam sandwiches they might need. After a quick update on security, and a lesson on how to set a landmine, it’ll be off to maim a beater in time for tiffin at 4 o’clock precisely.
What won’t be discussed however, is the Bowes-Lyons mental health history. My, how embarrassing, what would the neighbours think if that got out? Oh it is out, oh well, brace yourselves… The Queen Mother had two nieces, but they were far to spazzy to be part of the Royal family. They were severely handicapped and hardly spoke a word. After a certain amount of private care, their spazziness still remained. What to do? Let’s pack them orf to a Royal psychiatric hospital under cover of darkness, someone made so bold. Hoorah, came to reply, and in 1940/41 Katherine and Nerissa Bowes- Lyon were shipped off to Earlswood hospital, and that’s where they stayed FOR DECADES! Such was the shame of the Queen Mother’s family that they had a ‘handicapped’ child in their midst that Katherine was even listed as dead in BurkesPeerage in 1961, despite living on for many years after that date! “No – it doesn’t work, get rid of it.” Makes yer proud to be mental and British!!! Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerp.
Right I’m off, don’t want to be late for lift practise…
Comments
Powered by Facebook Comments