Saturday, April 30, 2011

The Royal Wedding

I was invited to the royal wedding between Prince William and Kate Middleton, but I couldn't make it.  I had jury duty that day.
     Prince Charles was upset, but he's been upset with me ever since he found out that I knew Lady Di before she was a lady.
     "Tell me the truth, now, Sir Jim," he once asked me.  "Did you ever sleep with Princess Diana?"
     "Not a wink," I answered.
     Years later, after his divorce, he called to ask me to perform the marriage ceremony in his then-upcoming nuptials to Camilla Bowles, but I refused for religious reasons.  I don't believe in inter-species marriages.
     "Jim, you were right.  I never should have married Diana."
     "I never said you shouldn't marry her.  What I said was: 'Why buy the cow...' "
     As a personal favor to him I kept the Queen Mum out of everybody's way during the festivities that followed.  Her stories tend to be long and tedious.  She's used to people having to pretend to be interested.  Unfortunately for her, I'm not one of those people.
     "Did I ever tell you how," she rambled, "during World War Two after each time we were bombed by the Germans I would go for a walk to reassure my subjects?"
     "Yeah, but only fourteen times," I yawned.  "Tell me again."
     And she did!  Royalty never gets the hint.  I excused myself.
     "I have to see a man about a horse," I told her.
     "Why, I never!"
     "And with that face, you never will."  I turned and bumped right into her husband, the Duke of Earl.
     "Who are you?"
     "I'm her husband."
     "Why aren't you king?"
     "Well, that's a long story," he said, taking a deep breath in preparation for the exhalation of many boring words.
     "Then I don't want to hear it," I said, and exited stage left.
     But I digress...
     Prince William was disappointed that I wouldn't be there to throw him one of my legendary bachelor parties.  His younger brother, Prince Bob, too.  They had heard about the one I threw for his father in Las Vegas.  We ended up stealing Mike Tyson's pet tiger that night.  Maybe you saw the movie.  I took a few of Iron Mike's pigeons, too.  They were delicious. 
     It was while we were in Vegas that we met the Runaway Bride, Jennifer Wilbanks.  She was celebrating her own personal bachelorette party that night by throwing back tequila shots, falling down a lot, and laughing hysterically for no obvious reason. 
     "Hey, Jennifer," I shouted over the music, "do you know where Prince Charles is going to spend his honeymoon?"
     "Where?"
     "Indiana!"
     Everybody got a big kick out of that one.  Especially Prince Charles.
     "I don't get it," Jennifer said, and then passed out.
     By the end of our night of debauchery her eyes were permanently bugged out.  They never went back to normal.
     "This is too much.  Even for me, dude," Charlie Sheen said, disgustedly, and left.
     But, once again, I digress...
     Prince Charles made a final attempt to get me to go to his son's wedding.
     "Don't forget, someday I'll be Queen."
     "You mean King."
     "That, too."
     I sent a crock-pot, and my apologies.
 

El Paso!  Where You Never Have To Put Up With The B.S. Of European Royalty...Ever!
 
 

American Chimpanzee
jimduchene.blogspot.com
RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com
@JimDuchene
 

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