My wife is a republican. This does not mean she is a member of the party of Lincoln or Reagan. No, she dislikes (to put it mildly) the Royal Family of this country. I have a rather more nuanced view which mainly amounts to believing the heir to the throne is just a cunning stunt.
Mainly because he is.
So this story comes as a bit of a surprise.
A Mexican teenager is staging a hunger strike outside the British Embassy in Mexico City in a bizarre attempt to secure an invitation to the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton.
Now not long since I caused a minor storm here – winding up some “traditionalists” – by saying the ban on night-time weddings in this country was both silly and sinister. Their argument of course was roughly about the idea that a wedding has to be public. Maybe they had a point. I think though this Mexican teenager is stretching that point to breaking. The last envelope I had through the door on Her Majesty’s Service was not an invitation to Will and Kate’s nuptials. It might have involved a blacksmith in Gretna but only if my tackle was on the anvil. Or fucking else!
Obviously Estibalis Chavez was clearly horrendously over-looked for an invite to the nuptials of Wills and Kate but then I don’t recall sending her an invite to my wedding either.
“Are they going to let me die just because they wouldn’t give me an invitation to the royal wedding?” Miss Chavez wrote on one of the flyers she has plastered near the entrance to the colonial-style building.
“This is my only dream,” read another flyer next to a picture of the smiling royal couple who will marry at Westminster Abbey on April 29.
The only Mexican I have ever known particularly well was an incredibly smart PhD student in mathematical logic. I guess if you got a population north of the 100million mark they can’t all be straight-A students. Gabriella clearly was and Establis very clearly isn’t.
Miss Chavez, wearing braces, pigtails and glasses, said the late Princess Diana had inspired her campaign.
The case for the prosecution rests.
“My mother was a big fan of Lady Di too and she died when I was born, so I promised myself I would attend her son’s wedding,” added Miss Chavez, who has also taken her cause to the Facebook social networking site.
I’m a bit vague here as to who died when Ms Chavez was born. Either way it’s somewhat lame. And as to taking her “case” to the high court of social networking…
I got an email from Facebook today. It was about “International Talk Like a Geordie Day”. I have no idea why I got this because being from Gateshead it comes quite naturally in much the same way that couples in London don’t tend to invite random Mexican teenagers to their wedding.
“The embassy could talk to Britain for me but they haven’t,” she said. “But I’m going to stay here until I can’t go on.”
Oh, Lordy! It’s like that scene in Apollo 13 where Jim Lovell is about to go to the Moon and his daughter won’t leave her room because the Beatles have split up. It’s like when the lasses at my school weeped, wailed, rended their denim shirts, threw down their neckerchiefs and removed the Grolsch tops from their shoes (their abysmal plight was ultimately mitigated by the potent drug known as “Ben & Jerry’s”) when Bros split up. Yeah, Bros – that trio of profound Leo Sayers*. Mass Hass! Mass fucking hysteria more like. You didn’t get me doing that when Newcastle got relegated.
And no, that is not because I’m a geezer. And no it’s not because they are teenage girls though frankly I have my suspicions on that score but purely because there is at least one half-wit born every minute and a lot of them seemed to have vaginas and many of those went to my school.
*And Gods I had to go through that period drama again when Take That imploded. And I have it on sound authority that at least three of those heart-throbs (including Robbie Williams – who is camper than a row of tents in Elton John’s garden) prefer the tradesman’s entrance of the gentleman so what the fuck they were bitching about God in his Heaven alone knows.