Of course, I wasn't invited. I've been persona non grata since the time the Queen and I snuck off to Tijuana. We didn't come back for four days. Man, that lady can party. When we finally made it back to England, I had to leave her passed out in a shopping cart at the front gate of her castle.
So, anyway, I just decided to crash the Jubilee.
The whole extravagant affair reminded me of when I was invited to the royal wedding between Prince William and Kate Middleton. Unfortunately, I couldn't make it. I had jury duty that day.
Prince Charles was upset, but he's been upset at me ever since he found out I knew Lady Di before she was a lady.
Years later, after his divorce, he called to ask me to perform the marriage ceremony in his then up-coming nuptials to Camilla Bowes. I refused for religious reasons. I don't believe in inter-species marriages.
"Jim, you were right," he told me. "I never should have married Diana."
"I never said you shouldn't marry her. What I said was : 'Why buy the cow...' "
So, although I didn't perform the ceremony, as a personal favor to him I kept the Queen Mum out of everybody's way during the wedding. 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 in that high-pitched squeel of hers, "during World War II, after each time we were bombed by the Germans, I would go for a walk to reassure my subjects?"
"Yeah, but only fourteen times. Tell me again."
And she did! Royalty never gets the hint. So I excused myself.
"I have to see a man about a horse," I told her.
"Why, I never!" she sputtered.
"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."
"Then why aren't you the 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 about 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. He had heard about the one I threw for his father in Las Vegas. We ended up stealing Mike Tyson's pet tiger that night. I took a few of Mike's pigeons, too. They make for some good eating.
It was in Vegas that we met the Runaway Bride, Jennifer Wilbanks. She was celebrating her own personal bachelorette party by throwing back tequila shots, falling down a lot, and laughing hysterically for no reason whatsoever. 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," he reminded me, "someday I'll be Queen."
"You mean King."
"That, too."
So 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!
Fifty Shades of Funny
jimduchene.blogspot.com
RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com
@JimDuchene
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