I am writing this entry from 37,000 ft above whilst flying through the North American skies on our passage to California; I just had to record the unnaturally cruel episode that has just befallen me:
Just past hence, Big Willy took a call from JLP (Jamie Lowther-Pinkerton) back at CH (Clarence House) who told him that news of my 'flashing' incident earlier this day in Calgary (see previous entry) had reached British shores, specifically my beloved Mail Online and that Her Majesty was absolutely NOT AMUSED. He was told Granny was so bitterly disappointed that I, her star pupil, had let the side down so drastically and had plunged the Royal Family into a new annus horribilis of shame!!!!
Immediate images flashed through my decimated mind of being exiled to the South of France like Mrs Simpson or to have to eke out the remainder of my days flogging Weight Watchers to America like Fergie *horrors*
'Please don't take away my HRH' I wailed, 'Life wouldn't be worth living!'
I could hear Mummy's pained screams of anguish as she saw all her hard work go down the drain, her daughter, once darling of the Establishment, now just a penniless ex-Duchess.
Through the maniacal tears, I managed to dig out my Smythson notepad and monogrammed Mont Blanc rollerball and began a frantic missive back to Her Majesty, begging for her mercy and throwing myself in front of her as her undying, lifelong slave servant.
Only then did I glance up to find Big Willy *rolling on the floor laughing* or ROFL as those on the 'street' say and in that very instant I knew, in the words of Noel Edmond's House Party, I had been 'Gotcha'd!'
Such cruel, cruel jokes. As if my life as a new Duchess isn't hard enough, I have to now keep one kohl-rimmed eye out for practical japes. It's like being back at Downe House *misery*
No comments:
Post a Comment
This is a private journal, but comment is free: