Look people, a Royal rogering is nothing new. The Royal family have been shafting the British public for centuries; they just had the advantage of better PR in the past. If you complained, they killed you. The Prince of Wales having a mistress, as we know, is not new. It's virtually a tradition. It's a perk that goes along with the title, more wealth and even more undeserved privilege, so relax. It's nothing new.

What is new is this; the Royals' don't normally marry the mistress. The fact that Charles has declared his love for Camilla is all very nice. Really. I'm happy for them. Well, maybe not happy exactly, the feeling is something along the lines of, I'm glad he doesn't get to fuck up the life of another young girl. Give Charles his due, though, at least now he's trying to do the right thing. He's going to make a respectable lady out of Camilla, and seeing as he is due to become head of the Church of England, I think it's great that he believes in miracles. After all, that's the only way he can redeem Camilla's reputation in the eyes of the majority of the British people.

In 2003 Charles told Journalist Gavin Hewitt he 'thought the British people were supposed to be compassionate. I don't see much of it'. He was referring to the reaction his relationship with Camilla had provoked. When pressed for a reply as to what he thought about the perception of his affair, he snapped 'I don't see why I should define my private life.' I agree with him, for once. I wish the press would leave them alone. It's very insensitive of the press to keep taking pictures of them. I mean. Let's face it, Charles on his own was damn ugly, but now with this odd human horse he's been galloping around on appearing with him, I'm having a hard time keeping up with the rest of the news. Anything could have happened while I've been avoiding the newspapers. The Pope could have taken up hang-gliding. We might have formed a trade alliance with Mars. Bush might have been re-elected.

Prince Charles neglected to consult this 'compassion' thingy, when he picked the breeding stock to continue his bloodline. Princess Diana served us well, by introducing some attractive DNA into the big-eared genes of the House of Windsor. It's not easy, countering the natural ugliness of the bloodline coming from the Saxe-Coburg-Gotha stock; the original name of the royal family. It's taken a lot of inbreeding through the centuries, to produce Charles, and how we got Prince William and Harry out of the consummation we can only guess. I think we should be grateful to Diana, for this at least. When she came along into this Brothers Grimm Fairy tale, the virgin Princess to be devoured by the Royal Monstrosity of Tradition, little did she know she was just a mobile incubator for the future King. It's like a scene from Alien. I'm surprised she gave birth as she did, and the kids didn't rip themselves out of her chest and go scurrying off down the halls of St James Palace, looking for the insensitive, spoilt bastard who'd used their mother so abominably.

In Charles defence, maybe he was told what to do. Maybe he was told 'you can?t marry Camilla, for God's sake. Even the vicar's had her. She's got a mattress strapped to her back, old boy. Look, be reasonable. Marry the quiet Nanny person with the blonde hair and the potential eating disorder. Get her pregnant and your job's done. After that you can do what you want so long as you don't rock the boat for the rest of us.' Charles is quoted as saying, "All my life, people have been telling me what to do, I'm tired of it. My private life has become an industry. People are making money out of it." This, by the way, is what a stunned silence looks like on paper:

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Did he just complain that people were making money out of him! Jesus Christ Almighty! This is the man who pockets more than £3m from the taxpayer. He's sponging off me, but I don't earn enough money to look after the people I love. Why is he taking money off me, with his silver spoon; tongue tucked between teeth, trying to shake a few more pennies from the public purse? I want my money back. I want it now. I don't want to subsidise the lifestyle of Prince Charles. I don't want my money used to maintain Royal homes. Homes. Plural. Big. Huge. Palatial. Homes. Listen, I don't want to subsidise this. Get his over privileged arse out of there. Give him a Big Issue to sell. Get him a job. Send him around to me. My house can use a lick of paint; if I'm paying his wages he can come round and do a spot of honest work instead of sponging off the State. I'll give him a cup of tea and a few Hob-Nobs. And don't send him on the Royal train either, because I'm not paying for that; get his Royal arse on a normal train.

The supporters of Prince Charles will say he's got a job. He does a marvellous job for Britain. Well, he did impregnate one of our citizens to ensure we have another generation of half-wits to wave at us from the balcony. Now that's what I call value for money. They say His Highness does a lot for charity. Oh really? Let me see. There's 'The Fund for the Preservation of Vaguely Ridiculous Looking Royalty with a Penchant for Polo Society;' or 'The Fund for the Endangered Grouse Shooters with Big Ears Society'; or the 'King Charles I must be Laughing his Head Off Society' (pun intended); How about the 'Oliver Cromwell must be Spinning in his Grave wondering why we put Up With This Nonsense Society'?

I'm telling you. I'll say it again. The issue is not who HRH Charles was sleeping with, the issue is why we put up with him screwing us. For example, he loves Polo; loves it with a passion; it absolutely gets his gander up. That's good. The horses enjoy it, I'm told, and it stops Charles from taking pot shots at birds flying past and being obliterated in mid-quack. Get this. As part of his public service to you and I, he plays polo for charity. That's very commendable. It must really be a bit of a bore, doing something you really like, and getting paid for it. Thanks a bunch Your Highness. However, I've got a better idea. Why don't you draw the curtains? Stay at home. Enjoy your privacy and have a game of hide the bratwurst with your intended; just give us back our money first.

We don't need you to turn up for the match. In fact, we don't even need the match. The horses can have a day off and you, your Royal Highness, can fuck right off. Now you've got me mad. Give us back the three million we give you every year. We'll give it to the Tsunami fund. It's for your own good. You'll thank us in the end because you can be the new Oliver Cromwell. You and your siblings are the best argument for a republic we've ever had, and cutting off your funds is a lot less drastic than the cut we gave Charles I.

I know, I know, abuse is bad. It's not nice. It's not charitable, but neither is taking food from the mouths of babes, or taking money from the poor to subsidise the lifestyles of the rich. And can you believe St James's Palace issued a mission statement saying, "As heir to the throne, he is committed to making a difference for the better, in this country and internationally, and to using his position to draw attention to and foster the nation's talents and traditions." It's a tradition in this country and many others, that people like Charlie boy live off the backs of those less fortunate than themselves, so he's got that covered nicely. I don't see how the rest of his activities foster the nation's talents, though. Unless he means the talent some people have for being conned into thinking an accident of birth makes him more deserving of our money, than people who actually need it for medical care, and not for Polo.

But no, wait; it's not all his fault. There are some people out there, who actually encourage him. Something like £400,000 is taken up by the communication department of Charles' Circus. Among their vital duties were things like opening thousands of 21st birthday cards for one of the princes. And I bet at least one mad old trout put a fiver in from her war pension for him to buy sweets with. Her husband had his bollocks shot off for that and she's wasting it on continuing the myth of the Divine Right of Kings.

Look, whoever you are, just stop it. For God's sake! Let's get this straight, once and for all, before you go and hang your head with shame. Prince William does not know you. You do not know Prince William. He already knows this fact. I'm not going to have to waste my time explaining it to him. It's you who doesn't get it. Sure, he may have waved to you when he went through your area with a police escort and several snipers eyeing you up in case the flowers you got from Asda were ticking. You may have thought, 'isn't it nice that he walks around with all the ordinary people.' Well, when you get mugged on the way home, because there weren't enough snipers to go around that day, just think about this. You're just another miniscule layer of grease and particles of skin the Prince will wash off his hands later on that day.

And as for his dad being 'committed'. That is the only thing in the statement from the Palace that makes sense. Charles would be quite at home if he were committed; nothing cruel, somewhere cosy; someplace where the other 'guests' thought they were someone special, like Mary Queen of Scots, or Napoleon, or the Prince of Wales. I'd like to hear the conversation when he tried to convince the other inmates exactly why he, in particular, was deserving of special treatment for being of Royal blood; why he should have the best bed in the ward; and why he should be in control of the remote for the T.V; and why, he should have a slice of pie, from the plate of every other inmate in the asylum. And why the woman with the cruel mad eyes, smelling of horse leather, tapping at the window should be let in at night to tuck him in before cocoa comes down the cold corridor of the asylum?

I repeat, Charles.
Give us our money back.
We're going to take some children out of the ghetto.

Geetan
28/02/2005

Picture below by REUTERS/Jim Watson