Prince Harry is touring America again. What's this ? More visits to strip- joints ? No, no, this is the clean living, respectable, dark suited, brave fighter pilot, who is passionately compassionate about wounded soldiers who got their injuries in wars his loving, blood- thirsty, family adore.Yes, Harry the Elite's favourite and most highly -paid recruiter for the innocent , naive , deluded and poor to join the killing and dying machines operated by the seriously sick in the head, dangerously mad thugs who run this planet.
This time he he doing all the right things and reading off a script, no doubt written by a puppet who sits in luxury in a palace paid for by every man, woman and child in the U.K . who has probably never set eyes on the disabled and disfigured poor souls who return from killing fields.
Harry will be visiting cemeteries chock-full of dead servicemen who died in wars supported by his Christian, church-going, caring family ; visiting those wounded in senseless wars, and meeting survivors of H.A.A.R.P's Super, Nasty Storm Sandy.
What a Saint. Let's though, not forget, as we are supposed to, the Harry who played Strip- Poker. on his last memorable tour of the U.S.when his nakedness and those of many women surrounding him were splashed over all the tabloids.
A certain Lieutentant Colonel Perrigine Asquire-Smythe got rather enraged after seeing pictures of naked Prince Harry. Below is an article I wrote about this at the time.
This time he he doing all the right things and reading off a script, no doubt written by a puppet who sits in luxury in a palace paid for by every man, woman and child in the U.K . who has probably never set eyes on the disabled and disfigured poor souls who return from killing fields.
Harry will be visiting cemeteries chock-full of dead servicemen who died in wars supported by his Christian, church-going, caring family ; visiting those wounded in senseless wars, and meeting survivors of H.A.A.R.P's Super, Nasty Storm Sandy.
What a Saint. Let's though, not forget, as we are supposed to, the Harry who played Strip- Poker. on his last memorable tour of the U.S.when his nakedness and those of many women surrounding him were splashed over all the tabloids.
A certain Lieutentant Colonel Perrigine Asquire-Smythe got rather enraged after seeing pictures of naked Prince Harry. Below is an article I wrote about this at the time.
The Shock Of Naked Prince Harry!! By Mike selley.
A letter from Lieutentant Colonel Perrigine Asquire- Smythe. to The Times.
Dear Sir,
I, who was a Lieutentant Colonel in the British Army, have never been so shocked,so sobered, so humiliated and aghast at the news that a possible future King Of England has been shown naked in many publications around the World.
This surely is absolutely beyond the pail, beyond the bounds of decency, beyond anything I have seen in my life before.- and I have seen a lot, I can tell you.
Why on earth would a possible future Monarch want to indulge in such depravity has shocked me to the core.
I usually have, after my two bottles of excellent vintage wine at dinner, 3 or 4 glasses of brandy, but tonight, as my dear wife, pointed out, with her voiced raised a little too much I thought, after I had kicked the dog, tried to tie the cat's tail up and drown the goldfish,I had , she thought a lot more than that.
Words are beyond me,or as my dear wife Gladys said, I know the words I want to say, but they come out sounding like some rock singer my daughter used to rave about. Someone called Cliff Krichards , or something like that
But, back to the point, and to help me make this particular point I will have another large one to help me gather my thoughts on this very important matter.
Gladys has now retired, and I see that the dog and the cat are cowering in the corner and shaking at the other end of the room. I have no idea why.
I also have no idea why on earth Prince Larry, Barry or Harry or whatever his bloody name is can't simply do what Royalty do.
What Royalty do is kill.That is their main sport; their fun.And quite right so. There is nothing like a good, or even a bad , kill.
Oh, the joy of being on a English moor in the early light of morning, gun in hand, belly full of whisky, shooting, shooting, those pesky little feathered things in the sky.
Or, even better, smelling the excitement of the dogs, seeing their saliva droop out of their mouths, hearing their yelps and cries, on a cold English morning, as you stagger, I mean proudly mount your loyal horse who is already sweating with excitement at the thought of the hunt.
Flask in hand yelling:" Tally Ho, Tally Ho!"
Oh, what joy!
Then you're off!
Off to kill that fox.
What a feeling!
What excitement!
Why on earth can't this Hrince Parry or whatever, continue doing what Royals have done for centuries and kill defenseless creatures ?
It doesn't have to be puny little birds; it can be Pheasants, Elephants, Tigers, Rhinos, Crocs, and as your Royalty , it can be anything you bloody well like.It's your right, your privilege.
So, Quince Garry, or Ince Darry, or is it Prince Harry, I can't recall, forget about running around naked
Get back to your roots. Do what you lot have done for centuries and-
Kill, Kill, Kill.
Now where the hell is that other bottle!
" Gladys!".
Oh, I forget, this is a letter to the Ministry Of Truth, no, not the B.B.C.Where the hell was I going to send this letter?
Oh yes, that pillar of establishment, that arm of propaganda, The Times. ; the voice of the establishment.
Right.
Yours,Absolutely Disgusted, from Woking,
Lieutentant Colonel Perrigine Asquire-Smythe . ( ret).
Dear Sir,
I, who was a Lieutentant Colonel in the British Army, have never been so shocked,so sobered, so humiliated and aghast at the news that a possible future King Of England has been shown naked in many publications around the World.
This surely is absolutely beyond the pail, beyond the bounds of decency, beyond anything I have seen in my life before.- and I have seen a lot, I can tell you.
Why on earth would a possible future Monarch want to indulge in such depravity has shocked me to the core.
I usually have, after my two bottles of excellent vintage wine at dinner, 3 or 4 glasses of brandy, but tonight, as my dear wife, pointed out, with her voiced raised a little too much I thought, after I had kicked the dog, tried to tie the cat's tail up and drown the goldfish,I had , she thought a lot more than that.
Words are beyond me,or as my dear wife Gladys said, I know the words I want to say, but they come out sounding like some rock singer my daughter used to rave about. Someone called Cliff Krichards , or something like that
But, back to the point, and to help me make this particular point I will have another large one to help me gather my thoughts on this very important matter.
Gladys has now retired, and I see that the dog and the cat are cowering in the corner and shaking at the other end of the room. I have no idea why.
I also have no idea why on earth Prince Larry, Barry or Harry or whatever his bloody name is can't simply do what Royalty do.
What Royalty do is kill.That is their main sport; their fun.And quite right so. There is nothing like a good, or even a bad , kill.
Oh, the joy of being on a English moor in the early light of morning, gun in hand, belly full of whisky, shooting, shooting, those pesky little feathered things in the sky.
Or, even better, smelling the excitement of the dogs, seeing their saliva droop out of their mouths, hearing their yelps and cries, on a cold English morning, as you stagger, I mean proudly mount your loyal horse who is already sweating with excitement at the thought of the hunt.
Flask in hand yelling:" Tally Ho, Tally Ho!"
Oh, what joy!
Then you're off!
Off to kill that fox.
What a feeling!
What excitement!
Why on earth can't this Hrince Parry or whatever, continue doing what Royals have done for centuries and kill defenseless creatures ?
It doesn't have to be puny little birds; it can be Pheasants, Elephants, Tigers, Rhinos, Crocs, and as your Royalty , it can be anything you bloody well like.It's your right, your privilege.
So, Quince Garry, or Ince Darry, or is it Prince Harry, I can't recall, forget about running around naked
Get back to your roots. Do what you lot have done for centuries and-
Kill, Kill, Kill.
Now where the hell is that other bottle!
" Gladys!".
Oh, I forget, this is a letter to the Ministry Of Truth, no, not the B.B.C.Where the hell was I going to send this letter?
Oh yes, that pillar of establishment, that arm of propaganda, The Times. ; the voice of the establishment.
Right.
Yours,Absolutely Disgusted, from Woking,
Lieutentant Colonel Perrigine Asquire-Smythe . ( ret).
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