busker

Royal Wedding

Up the creek, or down the spout?

As my thoughts turn to the green sward of home, I find myself increasingly worried about my future king and the right royal cock-up he seems to be making of his wedding plans to the leathery Parker Bowles.

Speaking of whom, I have just heard a marvelous story about Camilla PB:

Apparently, soon after the news broke of the Bowles/Wales affaire, and tears for the sainted Diana not yet dry on English loam, it seems that CPB was actually chased from her local supermarket by angry bread-tossing patriots, furious at her part in breaking up the fairy tale union ... isn't that hilarious?

And isn't that stamp graphic too kitsch for words? I keep forgetting that we Brits can hold our own in any bad taste stakes.

• The legality of the wedding in question
• The 'torture' of poor Chazzah
• HRH Mummy not on side - including the magnificent line about "gratification before duty", which I am *determined* to use as a title for one of my blog posts.

Not sure how but it's too good to let lie fallow.

Addendum: 0300hrs, Thurs March 3rd.

Did I say down the spout?

Not only has the Plant Whisperer's walkabout Down Under been right royally upstaged by a local sheila and her hunky Scandiwegian hubby prince, *but* Chazza also gets himself snapped post-pee emerging from a Honeybucket portable loo.

And people wonder where the Royal mystique went ...