A regular reader (a Mrs Trellis of North Island) has expressed concern that my absence
from the wedding may lead to no one being on hand to prevent disasters happening
on the day. While I admit, with some modesty, that the current high esteem that the
British royal family commands worldwide is due in no small part to me, I cannot be
on call all of the time to all of them.
I will outline some of the steps upon which I insisted to prevent unfortunate results.
Originally, there were plans to have a full traditional ceremony at St Paul’s. I
quietly persuaded Charles to move to the private ceremony in Windsor. The plans,
including having Kylie Minogue as a bridesmaid, and the ridiculous involvement of
Dale Winton were getting much too bizarre. Further, Camilla’s repeated threat to
reply ‘Not chuffing likely’ instead of ‘I will’ could not be taken lightly. She constantly
fails to see that what some view as a robust sense of humour is regarded by others
as pure bad taste. Additionally, Edward, poor boy, has this strange fixation about
the current Archbishop of Canterbury. He is convinced that Dr Williams is Celtic
warlord, whose mission is to overthrow the foreign monarchy, and faints every time
that he meets him.
Charles will not be having the stag night that his irresponsible brother, Andrew,
had planned. I suggested that a quiet night in with a few trusted friends, a pizza,
a limited amount of alcohol and a ‘Police Academy’ DVD would be an appropriate kind
of evening. Fortunately, I did not have to be explicit about this and remind him
of my rescuing him from being found naked in the zebra enclosure at Whipsnade during
the early hours of the morning the last time he got married.
Security is a concern. That is another reason why Philip will not be attending. He
seems to think he has some feudal right to assault anyone whose face he takes exception
to. At his advanced age, the days when he could lift Jim Callaghan over his head
and slam him down three places away are gone, but he can still do some damage with
an unexpected kick to the shins, as dame Vera Lynn will attest.
So, what more can I do? I have carefully assessed all of the risks. At least we no
longer have to contend with the dear old queen mother’s endearing habit of yelling
out “Piss off, yo-yo knickers” every time she saw Camilla.
I don't know...it's all me, me, me with some people - and you didn't have to mention
the zebras, some things are best forgotten.
Thanks for the link though.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005 1:14:00 AM
you'd better teach that camilla woman how to walk properly now that she's going to
be queen. we can't have her galloping around as if she's on a horse all the time,
now, can we ?
Tuesday, March 22, 2005 6:53:00 AM
Mark Gamon said...
If you ask me, Charles may have been on something sorry on to something with the
zebras. Throw in a couple of golf buggies and a soundtrack of old Kylie singles and
you'll have to fight me off, so desperate will I be to get me hands on a couple of
Tuesday, March 22, 2005 11:39:00 AM
As I have said elsewhere, frankly, I'm just glad he didn't mentioned the badger debacle.
Least said, soonest mended.
PS:You are an ill person MarkG, help is the only course.