Reign on Your Wedding Day: A No Surprises Living in Devizes Royal Wedding Special!


Well I’m feeling particularly patriotic this morning, as you could probably imagine.


 I wish I was there, huddled with the royalist devotees at Windsor, covered head to toe in Union Jack flags, ardently rapping to Chris Evans; “we’ve come all the way from the fucking moon to be here today. We’ve been camped here since March….. 2007. The people of Windsor have been so welcoming; they’ve given us food, water and outbound train tickets, ha-ha, can’t begin to imagine why the tickets but there you go. The police have been so kind too, given us sleeping bags and blankets confiscated from the homeless, you know, lighten their load a bit so they can piss off quicker, or freeze to death. We love you Harry and Meg, and Mog, and the Queen, and all that sail in her, and I’m so happy I could just explode.”


 Don’t let me stop you.


Really, a Johnathan Pie moment here; could we stop a millisecond, get sweaty, swear and wonder, I don’t know who is worse; the idiots camped for eons to perchance a glimpse at two people getting married they’ve never met, not likely to, or who give a gnat’s pubic hair about them, or the media chumps giving them a voice to the entire world. “This is England, we have fruitcakes, but look, at least we’re civilised enough not have people sleeping rough!”


 An undetected old tramp rears up out of the crowd, “I’m still here, I’ve nowhere else to g…..” (the sound of a sniper breaks his proclamation, the vagrant disappears downwards into the crowd, one BBC cameraman gets reprimanded.)



Let’s get this straight, two people are in love, they’re getting married, and I have nothing against that. I wish them well, health and happiness, wealth taken as red, but the rest I wish them all the best of. Notwithstanding, thank heavens for small mercies; President Trumpet Trousers is not coming.



It makes me no less patriotic then you to mock the crowds gathered today, for their blind “yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir,” conformism qualms me. To question authority is surely the only reason we progressed from savage alpha males ruling a tribe. I query the whole shebang, considering a few minor flaws. The bottom line, is it really a “Royal” wedding at all? Has Harry really got any nob in him? I’d wager Meghan has h…. Whoa, think I’ll stop right there.



Secondly, the ease conservatives have labelled all criticism of the wedding as a leftist foray, despite jamming Daily Mail’s posts when the announcement of their engagement hit with outrageous attacks on her because she has a darker skin colour than them. It’s funny how one wave of a Union Jack gets them all teary-eyed. Whoa there, I’ll say no more about this either.



Thirdly, it’s belched up the old “are the Royals really worth the paper they’re printed on?” Yes, they are, because they are printed on money; yay! Kind of symbolic when you think about it. Yeah we know, they bring in killions (that’s a zillion zillions) of capital. Money to bail out bankers with, money for Tory’s to buy votes from terrorists. What’s the fucking point of bringing money into the country when the money the country has is not being spent in the correct places?



Yeah I know, despite the proven fact it’s impossible to balance the books of what they’re worth, least what they solely attain against their assets like castles and jewels, which obviously wouldn’t attract tourists alone, they do bring in more than they spend. Yeah, okay, yeah right, yeah suppose, I’ve got some spare half-tins of Dulux emulsion in my shed if they need them for the Palace, save the taxpayers a few pennies.

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No suppose about it, Oliver Cromwell knew it was bollocks in the 17th century, and it remains to be, total bollocks. Of course they do a lot for charity, of course they attract bonkers Americans with wallets fatter than their Maccy-D filled stomachs, but they hardly live off BOGOF swan pizzas from Icelands and buy their robes and crowns from Matalan.



Look, don’t take this all wonky, it’s not a personal attack on any royal, rather an opinion I bear about monarchs in general, history shows it’s always been this way. And living in Devizes you really get to witness snobbery first hand. I’ve learnt some rich people are arseholes, some poor people are arseholes, some rich people aren’t arseholes, some poor people aren’t arseholes, and Nigel Farage is definitely a major arsehole.



I’ve also learnt it matters what level up the arsehole you stand, the stench of the fart differs. The higher up the arse-hierarchy the less likely to comprehend what it smells like at the bottom. Therefore the very top is so ludicrously unmindful and out of touch, no matter how much they read, travel, or how many times they might sleep rough for a night, safe in knowledge next morning they’ll be lapping sweet smelling luxuries again. It’s sad, but the way it is, I don’t hold any individual responsible.



All I am querying, is why they couldn’t take one for the team they rule, just while people are going hungry? Harry, for example, could’ve taken a itsy-bitsy percentage of the wedding budget, asked the police not to halt clearing out the homeless, but rather put them up in a hotel where they could have a bath and a nice meal. That’d multiply my patriotism, that’d make me prouder to be British; we love you Harry and Meghan, can I borrow a fiver, give it back tomorrow?



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