Saturday, March 19, 2005

Countdown to the royal wedding - Part 6

As the great day approaches, despite my constant protests that I will not be attending the damn silly event, people, many through the medium of this journal, keep pestering me for tickets. I think that I should point out at this stage that it behoves me not to press your cases too hard. As a friend, I would suggest you are better off not going, although I have tried.

Just to see how the land lies, I approached Dave Linley, who has been given the job of looking after the spare tickets. Now, you may think from the publicity that he gets that he is one of the more down-to-earth members of the clan - works for a living, keeps his head down, and so forth. That is not my impression. I have yet to meet a chippie who has the full complement of brain cells, and he sadly fits that stereotype. I once ordered a customised mahogany tripod from him, so that I could take my own seat to the bloody garden parties at Buck house, and he asked me how many legs I wanted on it. I didn't have high expectations, and this proved to be the case. "Listen," I said with more than a little authority, "Zed wants to come. You know that she is European Bloggie of the Year, don't you?". "Euro-pissing-pean?" he riposted, "you think that lot mean anything to me?"

He has a point. Liz is not too fond of the continental cousins, particularly the Belgs. "Albert and his missus are conjoined twins, you know," she confides in me (this is borne out by the attached picture), "and who in their right mind is called Bert in our circles? Mum used to call Dad 'Bertie' just to get on his tits, because what with his stammer, he could never say it in less than 15 minutes."


So, there you have it. I will be happy to get you invitations to the royal enclosure at Ascot for the appropriate sum, I can get you on the honours list, but I consider it beneath me to beg for invites to what promises to be a right cock-up.

I shall be videoing the television coverage, and may even tune in if rain stops play in the Sri Lanka test match, but shan't give it much thought. I have to go to the castle in the evening, I usually smuggle in Liz's Friday takeaway from the Chinese in Datchet, and she doesn't like to offend the kitchen staff by having food delivered, so relies on my discretion. I won't be mingling with the guests though. Most of them will be out of their heads on Wincarnis or crack, and the remainder forced into playing fart lighting with Philip.

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13 comments:

Mark Gamon said...

I larfed so much I couldn't possibly comment...

Bugsy said...

Sounds like a good do .. you absolutely sure they've got Wincarnis?

Vicus Scurra said...

Yes, Jack, it is the beverage of choice of those for whom money is no object.

broomhilda said...

Don't let Boggins know about the crack lest he begin posting about manhole covers again.

Vicus Scurra said...

No problem, Broomhilda, no one reads this rubbish.

morphess said...

Reader of rubbish here.

I have to tell you that I’m concerned Viscus. Your opinions are obviously highly valued by the Von Windsor’s and given your intransient position regarding wedding versus sport I need to know, in fact I think we all do, that you will have your mobile turned on during the big day to deal with the inevitable last minute hitches.

Please reassure soonest.

Vicus Scurra said...

Yes, M, I will be available to turn out for New Zealand if they are unable to field a full team against Sri Lanka. I struggle to pick Muralitharan, but can be relied upon to hold my end down while Nathan Astle scores a quick 50.

morphess said...

Vicus, you confuse me with someone who cares. Also with someone who is Antiopdean.

If only one were back in Blighty one feels things might have been handled in a more subtle manner. However I am not bitter about my far-flung post. Not at all.

Damn you and all cricketers, or whatever sport you refer to, I have no time to follow this sort of inconsequential nonsense and anyway it’s way over sundown here and I have to go and take the Flag down.

M.

broomhilda said...

Vicus,
In the event anyone from customs comes around asking questions, I've been home all day.

(I knew my military training would come in handy)

zoe said...

i could attend that wedding like a piece of piss if i had wanted to ... it's all about connections, you see, connections :)

oh the joy. i'll ruin it all.

Vicus Scurra said...

Broomhilda, UK customs officers may not all have the intellect of Newton, but you might do better convincing them that you were at home all day if you were to desist from describing your sexual encounters with the Lincoln, Nebraska chapter of Hells Angels in the car park of the Denver branch of Walmart in your PUBLIC ON LINE WEBLOG.
Zoe, love, how can I say this in a kind and loving way? You are not fucking invited! The Windsors have done marvellously in their attempt to modernise, but still do not take kindly to women who so brazenly refuse to respect their menfolk. Perhaps if you were to rename your site "My boyfriend, can be a bit of a twit sometimes, honestly, but I really don't know what I'd do without him", then you might find a few more doors opening for you. I'll see if I can get you some wedding cake.

broomhilda said...

That was yesterday, not today!

zoe said...

vicus, if i changed the name of my blog to that, i'd be lying.