Royals need BJs too

For some reason, I spent about twenty minutes of my trip to New York last week watching coverage of the much ballyhooed Royal Wedding.

And I would be lying if I said it didn’t inspire occasional flutter from the tail of the cold dead fish inside my chest cavity. When Kate smiled with a disarming sort of nervousness, for example, like she was just any girl getting married to just any boy, and she was in love. Or the way she comforted the little girl who was afraid of the jets. I came over rather grandmotherly at that point, thinking it was about time she and old William started popping out some curly-haired, scowling tots of their own. Or the way he looked at her and told her she was beautiful, which was truthful of him, and also quite sweet.

I liked those bits.

But mostly, it was awful.

Not the wedding itself; it was a wedding. Weddings are all right. It was the commentary. The endless, relentless analysis of every last point of minutiae. The deliberation over the significance of two kisses on the balcony instead of one (GASP). Speculation as to the subtext of the colour of the Queen’s skirt suit. That ever-present murmured comparison, floating in the air like her ghost itself… di…an…aaahhhh. It was like sitting in on a first-year critical theory lit class who’d run out of reading material.

Yawn.

I’m satisfied with what was immediately apparent; she looked lovely, the dress was nice, they seem to genuinely like each other (how novel!) and he’s balding a bit but wearing it well. Done.

If we’re going to speculate endlessly, why don’t we fast forward a bit, hmmm? Sayyy… to about 10pm onwards? What was the foreplay like? Did she stash a sparkly purple rabbit habit in her garters? Were they too exhausted to do anything after a day of waving incessantly at screaming strangers and they just went straight to sleep because, let’s face it, they’ve been living together for nine years already anyway? And, most importantly, does this last bit count as treason and should I be worried? Whatever, though. They totally lick each other’s bits, and that is something that brings me endless amusement to picture.

Also, I just pictured him doing her doggy-style while still wearing the top part of his bright red Prince Charming wedding suit. It was very good. It was very good indeed.