O.K. this is from the archives and is really old news, but a lot of people have asked me to post it again, so how could I refuse?
Colonel Leeutentant Perrigine Asquire-Smythe ( ret)
The Shock Of Naked Prince Harry!
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, absolutlty disgusted, from Woking,
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, absolutlty disgusted, from Woking,
Colonel Leeutentant Perrigine Asquire-Smythe ( ret)
Mike Selley.
No comments:
Post a Comment