The Freeloaders Ball, Westminster, Minute By Minute

Up-to-the minute cynicism and bile about two fairly standard dull English upper class knobs.
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Welcome to the first live minute by minute on Sabotage Times on this fantastic royal day. Like you, we are watching it on TV and pretending we are there or indeed wishing we were somewhere else. Just as you can guarantee the red white and blue spectacle will thrill Royalists everywhere so I can assure you this is likely to be full of spelling mistakes. Simon Schama has just announced on the TV that the Royal Couple are "just like us". However the likelihood of them watching my wedding on TV in a kitchen with an electrician cum musician from Middlesboro and an irate woman from Biggin Hill is slim.

Whilst the Wedding Guests are looking forward to a fine feast of Swan and Venison I'm wondering how long I can last on this old dark chocolate Easter Egg. Prince Charles has apparently been very involved in organising the day which is a bit like putting a shark in charge of a swimming lesson.

Whilst the BBC are praising various dresses Sabotage Times writer Alex Netherton has just been arrested at Marble Arch struggling to get his bazooka out of the tube station. Is it just us but do these slow moving motorcades look more like hearses than the white cars you often associate with posh weddings?

"Already a busy year for her majesty" says Huw Edwards of the Queen before telling us she's had a wedding to attend, a day out to Ireland and a dinner with an American President to deal with. Which is one hell of a workload for her £40million a year.

We are now joined at Sabotage Towers by a lady in tight pale blue jeans with white love hearts of them. Despite looking she's stolen her clothes from the dressing up box on Play School our friend looks a great deal more interesting than the Queen who looks like Lee Van Cleef made of custard.

The biggest disappointment is that Prince Phillip hasn't been miked up for the drive into the church. The old devil must be loving how dull his grandson is, making him look positively attractive, racist statements an all.

The Royal Photographer looks like she's walked out of a Page Three Studio. The women here at ST do actually keep saying "ooh that dress is beautiful" beneath the cynicism do all women really love this sort of thing?

Fat jester James Corden has just informed us that the Royal Couple will be dancing to a Bob Dylan song.

A little posse of children arrive and are immediately ushered to the area where Prince Andrew and his pals will be partying.

The last time a helicopter followed two cars moving so slowly down an empty road was the OJ Simpson chase in the White Bronco and oh how OJ's presence would have livened up today. OJ failing to make the cut, presumeably as he hasn't murdered enough of his own people like the rulers of Bahrain and Syria.

"First use of the word 'radiant'" rightly observes grumpy old man David @quantick on twitter. Meanwhile @dianainheaven is dismayed to see no sign of Go West at the Abbey.

The Bride is wearing white eyeliner, say our fashion experts. "An old Page Three trick" says our Charlie Baker.

Harry seems to be wearing body armour under his Michael Jackson jacket as he strolls amongst the CGI forest.

Now the music from The Omen.

Why is Roy Hodgson holding the brides hand?

Put a helicopter out the back of the abbey and some kids dancing manicly and you've got Channel 4's finale to My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding.

Is it too late for David Mitchel to appear as Dustin Hoffman and run off with her?

The Temple of Smug throbbing with joy.

A million twitter jokes about big organs fly around the world.

Elton John looking smart, which is unusual.

Prince Phillip. More medals than sense.

Good to see so many homosexuals at the event. Important to be open minded and inclusive.  Many different shades of white skin on show. Punctucated by the occasional murderous dictator from Sand land.

You can say what you want about Idi Amin but I bet his wedding music was better than this.

This will be the first time anyone can have thought about banging the future Queen without being branded a bestialist.

He's sporting that irksome smile his mum popped up with on her Wedding Day.

The Vicar could well have fashioned that hat from an All Gold Easter Egg box last weekend.

"She's got miner's fingers," says our Royal Expert from the North East.

The Vicar fancies a Twixt. We are in agreement with @dianainheaven that she's not got the most impressive upper rack.

Disquiet amongst commoners who are still waiting to see a Beckham. Nation of TV viewers confused by so much continuous live broadcast without a phone number to call in and vote on.

There's Rod Stewart. The Pope. Some black people. This is starting to look like a Where's Wally book. Princess Beatrix wearing a suede coat of arms on her head.

Elton John, Furnish, Testino, Prince Andrew.. looks like the Archbishop's had his way with the guestlist.

Now a speech from The Rock.

Multi-cultural and comedic: the royals pay tribute to The League of Gentlemen



Fashion experts here at ST towers now talking about painting nail polish onto toes when they've pulled their toe nails off. Royal singing failing to captivate. This is like ITV's half time analysis during a big match. Might take my jumper off. Could do with a Red Bull and some pain killers.

There's a good interview with Gavin Friday in last week's Irish Sunday Independent  in case anyone's interested. Also Pat McCabe and a photo of Johnny Giles.

Back to the Wedding and a greying James Whale look-a-like is encouraging arsonists the world over to set everything alight. Meanwhile at our gaff the bloke with the Ducatti opposite has fired up the engine and all the car alarms have gone off. Hopefully he'll be about to kamikazi Whitehall.

Ah shit I've dropped the Easter Egg on the kitchen floor. The girls here think the couple are in love.

The Queen looks fucking miserable and Prince Phillip is wondering whether he unhooked that woman in the cellar.

This bit's like the credits from Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy only without the interesting spy stuff and Alec Guiness. Fuck my shoulders ache. How can you have a hangover when you don't drink?

Most weddings are boring, this must be excruciating to be at. How many single blokes will be there wondering about who the Wedding Slags are says @harryflowers.

In France a dark power crazed Prime Minister bags himself a Super Model. Here a bloke with a head like a deodorant thats been rolled around a hamster cage is marrying a girl who looks like all the other posh girls from the Kings Road.

How many of these fuckers in gold capes are there? It's like Father Ted Gets The Midas Touch.

Quick scan of the celebrity guests. Starting to feel like ITV's An Audience With... In a minute Freddie Starr will hopefully burst out and throw maggots at Faith Brown's cleavage.

And there's a peripheral royal family member some of us at Sabotage Times have had actual sexual knowledge of.

These lovely young boys, not only providing choral beauty but also important in attracting sponsorship from some of Andrews American friends.

Lee Van Queen staring out Clint Eastwood. She does nothing. That's why I prefer African Royalty. They do whatever they want in style. She just doesn't do anything she doesn't want to. It's fucking Royal laziness. Has she ever eaten a courtier and stored their head in the fridge? No.

Someone's autograph book from Ebay. Sale ends today.

Everyone looks so glum. Queen and Prince Phillip are bickering. Princess Ann and her fella have just realised they've left the stable doors open. There's Kenneth Clarke asleep.

No sign of Sue Barker yet. This soundtrack won't be flying off i-Tunes. Strictly White People Sing High Pitched Drones.

Alex Netherton isn't in jail he's in Portugal. "Sat in ma cups in Portgual, and it's just occurred to me that Eugenie and Beatrice really are an overweight couple of heifers.  They always say that the royal family only costs us the price of a Mars bar each.  Seems they've given those fifty five million Mars bars to those two to munch on."

They're coming out, which make them the first of the Royals to do so.

I wish they'd make Wills and Phillip wear those Scarlet Royal Army outfits and send them to Helmandland for a few months.

The Royal Bell Starts. the Royal Bell Ends in three hours.

Wills has put the wrong hat on now. Doesn't match at all.

This will be the Jackal moment hopefully.

Leading Maverick Publicist @markborkowski has dropped us a line to draw attention to a new movie about Will's mum. he wrtes "Love you to do something on Keith Allen’s new movie premieres in Cannes in three weeks? Want to know more – would Sabotage Times do something on it – this has gone up"

If only some anarchists on horse back would ride in and battle it out sword to word with the Household Cavalry. Who incidentally look amazing when they're racing up and down Rotten Row of a morning.

They're now going past the park where one of the loaded photographers shagged one of the Spice Girls in a bush. And where the George Best of Polo, Henry Brett, got wanked off on a bridge. I'm really hoping I've got that memory right.

You start to see why Di and Dodi crashed. The Royals rarely travel on land at faster than 10mph. The Queen there. Glad it's over and she can get back to wondering whether Arsene Wenger will bring in some experience into the spine at Emirates.

I've got to say this procession looks pretty good I just wish they weren't cutting back on incubators and school books to pay for it.

All the slags fancy Prince Harry.

I once had lunch with Patrick 'Lord' Lichfied who was sort of Royal and had some fantastic stories. I was a bit nervous about meeting him but as soon as I arrived at his house he strode over, shook my hand and said "James how did you manage to create and sell so many magazines whilst doing all those drugs?"

I replied "You should know, you were having a great time in the 60s."

He said "Yes but in the 60s we were trying to out-do the 30's."

A top bloke all round. Said it was a nightmare doing the Royal Group Photograph as every time he said 'Maam can you shuffle over' fifty different Maams shuffled over. he would have been here today, but he's snuffed it.

Who organised all the mini-busses wonders our Charlie Baker? Last time we saw a procession of 12 seaters like that was in South Yorkshire at dawn during the Miner's Strike. Which brings us back to Kate's fingers.

I don't want any of you who are into this to ever complain about lack of doctors, bad roads, shortage of decent teachers etc etc ever again.

Crowds of women enjoying the spectacle from the side of the Mall live. All over Britain there are men at home enjoying the freedom of the house. Eating off last night's dirty plates. Walking round in sports kit on they forgot to wash last weekend. Spankwire openly displayed on the computer. A diet of biscuits and white bread. Not a fucking fragrant candle or scatter cushion in site. Desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of some Royal Milf that doesn't look like something you might back at Cheltenham.

It is #FollowFriday so a big shout out to @deadbloke who is at Doncaster Races and @gdimelow our sorely under-followed TV writer.

Piss break. For them and us. Simon Schama pretending this event is something that wasn't invented in 1919 to increase Royal Popularity after the German's and the British Upperclasses murdered millions of young British men in Northern France.

“See if you can guess which saucy royal wedding guest invited me into their bedroom to eat crisps and watch dodgy videos five years ago?” asks Sabotage Times writer and novelist @russlitten.

That piss lasted longer than some of those hymns at the abbey. Haven’t washed my hands, CSI will have a field day with my keyboard.

“These are the Irish Guards” says Huw Bland of the BBC. There also seems to be a mob amassing on the Mall. When are the students going to attack? So much for fucking Chumbawamba reforming.

Son of Chelsea midfielder John Hollins now doing propaganda for the Terminally Dull. He’s asking a six year old girl if she thinks Prince William is handsome. It’s sick.

Switched to ITV to see what Andy Thownshend makes of it and shocked to see a reporter in Hyde Park, surrounded by people who look like they can't believe they'd missed the coach home after a good day at the seaside, who utterly fails to understand the meaning of the word 'electric'.

I'm now going to have a crack at hanging over to GARETH DIMELOW any minute now as I fuck off to bed. Before we work out how to give Gareth the keys to the back end , so to speak, here's a comment from another reader John:

"This coverage is pretty detailed. If we end up with a steadycam following them into the royal bedroom for some awkward, soft-lit missionary sex, I might have to switch off." Here's John's sign off and details if you want to get him in on a project or something: - author, copywriter, copy editor and manuscript consultant for script and prose.

Isn't this guy on BBC1 normally presenting Watchdog or something where he outs Cowboy Builders and Rip Of f Merchants who take advantage of unsuspecting old people? Whatever is he doing on this... come to think of it that is a master bit of casting from someone at the Beeb.

Look how we've gone all blue. Now we're in black type again. That banner is wrong "Check Mate. Congrats Kate you've taken The King." You don't take the King in Chess. You capture or corner it.

There's now a row in our garden here. Not sure whether to watch the crowd of Royal Sycophants swarming towards the palace or go and watch the row in the garden.

Bystander just said "Kate's a treasure for the country now". If that's the case she'll have to improve her chest says a very juvenile person Im pretending isn't me.

In the garden I reckon one of our writers is probably going to chuck her boyfriend soon.

Spitfire, Lancaster, Hurricane now. Come on boys. Bomb the bastards.

How often can a ginge say he's pulled a good looking brunette and then had a mob chanting praise at him for it. But that's what Strachan managed at 'Boro when he got Kris Boyd down from Rangers. Let's hope this wedding turns out better. That's it I'm out of here.

Less Sucessful Union of The Brunette and Ginge