For the first time in my life I began to dislike the royal family this weekend. I’ve always been indifferent to them. They are basically harmless, posh lottery winners who are trained to wave from balconies in my opinion. But as they stood on the royal barge reminiscent of that scene on Jabba The Hutts space barge in Return Of The Jedi (when he is condemning Luke Skywalker and co to a slow death in the belly of the Sarlacc) I began to think what is the point of them. A day later when the queen was doing a crystal maze task in front of Paul McCartney and Madness outside Buckingham Palace my mind was made up.
Apart from sailing across the The Great Pit Of Carkoon on a space barge me and the Royal family actually have got a couple of things in common. We both live in a house that we don’t pay for (I live at home with my parents) and we both want to sleep with our cousins. Maybe I’m jealous. When Prince Charles’s parents told him to move out it was into Clarence House when mine told me to move out it was into a Camden bed-sit with no central heating. I’d probably be more ok with them if I got invited to some of the parties, guys I’ve been writing a series of hardly read blogs for the last seven years here, where is my invitation?
The Windsor family had faces on them for the whole day like Cliff Richard had dropped his colostomy bag on the royal barge.
However if this weekend proved anything it’s that I am overwhelmingly in the minority. Sadly the majority look like they have escaped from a wheelie bin full of bunting kept in a mental hospital. You know the type they show on TV like it’s the first time in weeks they’ve been exposed to daylight, waving a flag, manic and shouting, with a dildo with the queen’s face on stuck up their arse. What has happened in your life to get to the point when queuing up in the freezing cold rain to wave at a Queen on a boat is something you want to own up to on national television whilst wearing a Union Jack bowler hat. It’s not like they even get any thanks for it. The Windsor family had faces on them for the whole day like Cliff Richard had dropped his colostomy bag on the royal barge. The only time they cracked a smile was when a boat carrying the royal philharmonic orchestra sailed by and serenaded them with their own national anthem which is tantamount to us commoners sniffing our own farts.
If I’d asked for a flotilla to celebrate getting a new job for my birthday I’d never hear the end of it from my friends and family. I’d get a book token and have to be happy with that. But the queen can have a flotilla, that’s fine we will get in contact with Pageant Master, yes Pageant Master there is a guy who walks around calling himself that. He’s mates with Dungeon Master and Games Master. How do you even get that job? Do you train at school firework nights, work your way up to village fetes and eventually get a call from the royals to organize a flotilla.
I don’t know enough about the pros and cons of having a royal family to nail my colours to the mast on weather it’s worth keeping them. If ever pressed on the matter I say they are good for tourism because I heard that once. It does seem like a slight waste of money. At the last few royal events I’ve been willing Prince Harry to unsheathe his sword and behead the queen and name himself king and get the British Empire going again. If we are going to have a monarch he should be ginger, drunk and dress like a Nazi on his day off or have nothing at all. At least it would be entertaining.
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