"If you think I'm going to put that in my mouth and lay myself open to some juvenile twat adding puerile captions to the photograph on his bollocky blog you can fuck right off."
Special trained troops help to escort Camilla from the "all you can drink" whisky exhibition.
And so the agent says "And what do you call the act?" and the little girl says "The Aristocrats!"
Every year, it fell to Hamish to get rid of the unwanted (i.e. all) haggises.
Liz fails to find any amusement at Philip's antics. Again. She has seen him give a 'Glasgow kiss' before, albeit never to the winner of the 'Glamorous Granny' competition.
"Oh, look Charles, whatever is Camilla doing now?"
"I'm not sure mater - Ann, isn't that the chap that you introduced to Camsy as 'Mr Caber'?"
"Heather? A bunch of fucking heather? You mean to tell me that the head of the British Commonwealth, the chuffing queen of England comes to your poxy locality, gets bitten by 2 squillion fucking midges, is forced to eat local fucking 'delicacies' that a starving dog would vomit up, has to listen to the worst music in the solar system (apart from country and fucking western) and watches a loaded of hairy-arsed twats in skirts hurl wood about in sub-zero temperatures, and all you can give her is a bunch of fucking heather? You didn't even bother to buy something from the BP station, did you? No, that would have meant sticking your hands in your pockets, you tight-fisted brat. No, you thought 'Oh, there's some weeds at the side of the road, that will do fine', didn't you. I've got a good mind to make you sit on Philip's lap for the rest of the afternoon. 
12 comments:
"Phillip's lap".
(shudder)
But that's all you can get in Scottish petrol stations.
Do I get a prize for spotting the typo?
I seem to have soiled myself reading your hilarious take on the matter.
However, this "deflection" cannot dissuade me from believing that you wouldn't say no to a title before you bugger off.
You're cleverly using reverse psychology on us but the jig is up Scurra! Just swallow y'er humble pie and write Lizzie a nice letter.
In it describe all of your good works, and don't be shy about padding it a bit..everybody does.
Remind HRFH that you gave your all for the good of the Empire.
And so say all of me.
OMG, Queenie knows THAT joke?
Thank god I left the country.
A man who keeps his knees together when wearing a kilt has got no bollocks.
sorry, who is trying to get into the New Year's honour list here?
Boz. It's alright - you are safe here. Just sit quietly in the corner and have some camomile tea and a biscuit.
Richard. No, spotting the typo is not an event at the Braemar gathering. It would put the Windsors, who are as thick as a very thick thing, at a disadvantage.
Donn. Please keep us abreast of your toilet habits.
Zed, as you well know all jokes in this country have to be passed by the royal family before they can be told in public.
Geoff, I bow to your experience.
ILTV. Pay attention dear. I'll take you with me to the palace when I go.
Do you write her Majesty's Christmas day speech as well Vicus?
I take it you are one of the Royal family's most ardent supporters.
Kaz. Yes, of course I do, don't you watch it? I was particularly proud of her referring to the Archbishop of Canterbury as "Shagnasty" and her description of the visit to the herring processing plant in Canada was one of my better pieces of prose.
David! How nice to see you here. A little bit off your route (geddit?) but welcome all the same. The Windsors have relied on my counsel for many years, hence the universal respect that they enjoy.
According to Babelfish, Anonymous said:
From the pleasures are most pleasant those, which are encountered most rarely. , Best perfumes themselves in the small bottles. Return to your matter by entire heart and soul, but you will look, first of all, this good matter. Reasonable strives for the fact that pleasantly, and the fact that it frees [otnepriyatnostey]. Entire Russia, this drinking Hamlet.
Obviously fits in well here, then.
Oh that Putin!
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