Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Countdown to the Royal Divorce Part 18

You will be distressed, and rending your raiment, (I can write that but don’t ask me to say it), to hear that I have been less than well these few days. Nowhere near in the Dave league of biblical plagues, but enough to interrupt the rhythm of my life to the extent that I have had my computing perambulations somewhat curtailed. Today, having failed to sleep much last night, and been woken by a cough every time I tried to sleep, and with a headache and other symptoms, I resorted to watching daytime television. I am happy to report that it is wonderful. I saw, for the first time, the whole of the episode of “Whose line is it anyway” with Richard Simmons, having only seen clips before. It was almost worth becoming ill for.

******

I have been reluctant to write much about my old friends, the Windsors, because of the news embargo, and not wanting to step out of line, but I know that some of you are keen to be kept up to date.

I knew that something monumental was afoot when that silly tart Camilla telephoned in November, in a bit of a state about what appeared to be a packing dilemma. “Just theoretically, of course”, she began, “what do you think the correct number of pairs of underpants would be required by a young chap for, say, 4 months in Afghanistan?”. I told her four, but put an extra pair in to be on the safe side. I am always surprised at how gullible the silly buggers are. One would think that they lived constantly surrounded by sycophants incapable of being anything other than totally subservient. I heard nothing more about it, and I have to confess that I was a bit bemused to see all the fuss about Charlie’s youngest in the news, because I could swear I found him hiding in a cupboard in St James’s Palace in January, and in February I had what I assumed was a misdirected text asking if he could come out yet. I replied that he would have to wait for Edward.

It is nice to see Liz taking it easy at last. Most Wednesday afternoons she nips out to the Bingo at the old Bermondsey Gaumont. It is surprising that she has never been found out, but generally the population of London are so up themselves that they notice nothing. A few years ago it fell to me to escort her on this venture – and what a bloody waste of time that was. Not made any more pleasant by her antics, I might add. One time the poor old love got a tad confused, and mistook the passengers waiting to board the train at Westminster tube station for a trade delegation from Paraguay, and went along asking them all “What do you do?” and “Have you come far?”. Generally in London there are more than 50 nutters to the square foot, so one more went unnoticed, but it wasn’t very easy for me to extricate her. Once she got inside the hall it was no better. It took her about 2 years to learn the rules, and then on the odd occasion when she managed to get a winning line she would yell out “Palace!” I eventually pointed out that this was not the accepted norm, but even when she changed to “Hice!” it was little better.

17 comments:

Dave said...

So sorry to hear you've been ill. Good to see it hasn't affected your bile gland.

zoe said...

Oh god, man-flu. I'll try and feel sorry for you and send you some tissues. To avoid passing it onto the missus, I'd retreat to the shed if I were you.

Anonymous said...

Big girl's blouse.

XX

Vicus Scurra said...

Thank you Zoe, I feel embraced by the warm glow that always surrounds you.
Mrs S passed it on to me. I let her go out on her own, and she brought it back with her. I suppose that I will never be able to restrain my liberal attitude.
Anonymous. You look very nice in it. Remember to put something else on if you are going out.

Anonymous said...

Well..no message for Dave? Rushing 'round to congratulate the famous; but what of Dave? Hmmm?

Oh, and it's me by the way. Off to put my big girl's pyjama top on; it's hard having already lived today.

Relax the rest of you: am only occasional stalker.

Vicus Scurra said...

I deduce that "anonymous" is the famous sulphur breathing antipodean sweety pie who comes here from time to time to share her perspicacity. How blessed we truly are.

Romeo Morningwood said...

You poor little Bunny!

Isn't it ghastly how some poncy blogger named Drudge or Judge Dread or something or other, blew the whistle on Harry's attempt to singlehandidly end the war in Arf ghanistan? How perfectly common?

Apparently every other Media Oultet around the world was in on the 'secret' and managed to keep it on the QT!

Personally I find it tremendously encouraging that the Press and the Government are in 'cahoots' and manage to keep TOP SECRET matters from the great unwashed.

Unknown said...

Glad you are on the mend!

Unknown said...

Sorry to hear of your illness. It does seem to be going around.

Zig said...

ah poor baby, stay in bed and be waited on.

I thought you were supposed to call 'bingo' in bingo, no?

Richard said...

I knew I shouldn't have coughed on that email.

tom909 said...

Vicus, as an insider at the palace can you tell me one thing. When are they gonna admit that Harry is Hewitt's?

Richard said...

Tom, I don't think she'd met Hewitt then. And look at Harry next to Charles. If they're not related then I'm not my mother's son.

I, Like The View said...

in my experience of travelling, one only needs one pair of knickers as long as one takes a tube of Travel Wash with one, washes the knickers out before bedtime, folds them into a small towel which one places under one's pillow for the overnight duration so that they are dry by morning

of course, perhaps she knew he was going to a place where there was no running water, no towel and no pillow

and of course this only works if you sleep at nighttime

are you well yet? when I had that bug I felt for at least two weeks as if I'd been run over by a steam-roller; still, even that wasn't an excuse for daytime telly, but I'm glad you managed to amuse yourself

hugs and kisses

XXX

Zig said...

probably easier to just go commando and not pack anything.

are you better yet?

Dave said...

Better than what, Ziggi?

Richard said...

Is your bunting ready?