There is yet another article in the press about the privacy of the Windsor Mountbatten family.
It is not as if the problem is unknown. For several years I have only communicated with them via mobile telephone, as the land lines are notoriously insecure. It is impossible to have a conversation with any of the official residences without Special Branch, MI5, the News of the Screws, the Daily Mail, Al Fayed and sundry seedy lawyers (tautology, I know) listening. There is so much noise in the background that both parties have to shout to be heard, which then causes, at least at that end, other people to start yelling about shutting the fuck up. This is not to mention the fact that there are so many extensions on all of the lines that the chances of some idiot not picking one up and starting to dial somewhere else are remote.
They are all in Scotland just now. It is impossible to venture outside without being eaten by midges or getting drenched, so they sit around playing Scrabble or some such. I have employed a lady to act as dictionary umpire for them, so that my days are not spent on the telephone telling Camilla how many ‘f’s there are in philistine or whether ‘Beckham’ is allowed. You will be surprised that they choose Scrabble, but I suspect that the counters in those games more intellectually suited such as Ludo have long since been mistaken for smarties by Philip. It is amazing how patient they are. Edward once spent 37 hours on his move, and scored 8 points. You will understand why I regard the many hours in May and June each year turning down invitations as well spent. At least it keeps them out of trouble, although in the days of Diana she would often be on the point of physically assaulting them, usually Philip, who would never tire of asking here how to spell ‘yo-yo knickers’, ‘Carling’ or ‘squidgy’.
20 comments:
Nah. Can't think of anything to say, as I have no interest in the subject. Just wanted to be first here.
I wouldn't mind a listen to those tapes. Not the Royalty ones; we've all heard enough tampon references to last a lifetime. The MP who is reportedly blond and has difficulty keeping his girlfriends a secret.
Actually, he's so wordy his phone bills must be phenomenal! Er...ah...quite...yes, yes...um, I forgot what I was going to say.
Vicus, I'm sure all of your loyal Brit readers (AMToNW) are fascinated with all this inside information on the royals. But you also have to think about your colonial audience. We demand posts that we are able to comment on intelligently. Ok, we demand posts that we can comment on.
The thing is, Carmenzta old cabbage, when I don't post these I get many complaints from all over the world. What's a chap to do?
I understood him, again. This is twice in a row. I'm not sure if I should be frightened at the downward slope my intellect appears to be taking, or if I should simply sit back and enjoy the moment.
Decisions...decisions...
Pammy, I think you should start panicking... NOW!
tytfesw - Annual nude celebration held at the playboy mansion.
"Old cabbage?"
Carmenzta. Please select your endearment of choice. I will choose whether to use it.
Ah...so nice to see two of Murdoch's orcs getting a legal kicking
One of the reasons I despise him so much is that after Diana's death Murdoch implied in an interview that regardless of public feeling, everybody was fair game for exploitation by his papers and that he would have been OK with the pap tactics. I have no particular sympathies towards the royals but everyone, regardless of status should be afforded a degree of privacy. It wasn't the theory, although that's still abhorrent; it was his deliberate misuse of a moment which to many was extremely poignant and the way in which he said it that struck a bum note. It's obvious that his scum organisation hasn't changed its M.O. I wouldn't even crap in his minidishes or wipe my arse with any of his sorry excuse for newspapers. I might catch something.
There. Got that off my chest.
Richard dear, don't beat about the bush, tell us how you really feel.
Vicus,
You mentioned counter-eating royals and I had this strange flashback to a candy commercial circa 1966-68 or thereabouts with Rolf Harris eating several chocolate-covered caramel counter-shaped candies (or caramel-covered chocolate counter-shaped candies; try saying that three times quickly) while NOT singing 'Tie Me Kangeroo Down, Sport.'
I suppose that was slightly better than when I scanned your post rapidly and thought I saw John Phillip Law's name and did a quick "Whatinhell?"
ccuiusnj: the North America Harvard's U.S. Navy counterpart
Poor Diana, she must have gone completely mad whilst trapped playing scrabble with "the Germans".
Is this annual confinement of Royal Persons mandated by an Act of Parliament?
I wonder how many times Philip has placed ascent and regicide on the scrabble board?
Vicus,
How about "dear"?
hqwmk - Sound made by my disgust with the endearment "Old Cabbage."
Carmenzta, as a colonial you must try and understand the irony behind the allocation of our endearments. Were we to call you just "dear" this would appear in many quarters to be sarcastic. By and large, the less appealing the endearment, the higher the regard the subject is usually held. The ultimate accolade to work towards among the brassicas would be cauliflower. Brussels sprout doesn't bear thinking about and would probably result in a visit from the Home Office.
Carmy, I'd settle for Cabbage if I were you. The things that bugger has called me in the past , well, I wouldn't repeat them here, That's for sure.
I agree, don't go with brussel sprouts. What about a nice nectarine?
God, I love brussels sprouts - so much easier to eat than full-sized cabbage.
That didn't come out right, did it?
Pamela, old wellington boot, you just don't get it, do you?
Carmenzta, sweetie, don't go worrying your pretty little head about it.
Tom, I don't believe I have ever called you anything for which I don't have photographic evidence to support.
FE - if you are referring to your use of English, then certainly there is some suspicion of ambiguity. If you refer to the workings of your digestive tract, then I profess a complete indifference.
Vicus you once addressed me as your old cauliflower. Given my place of residence I would have thought Brussels sprout would have been far more appropriate. Yes it will make one fart but otherwise it makes a quite acceptable endearment.
I feel that I must point out that the streets of North East Hampshire are strewn with wenches aching to receive even a glance from me. Those of you who receive any sort of endearment from me should be grateful and not quibble about the form of words I use. You could probably retire on the proceeds from selling these words on ebay.
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