Yeah, yeah, I know. Smallpox and syphillis… Highland Clearances… Stamp Act… East India Company… Potato Famine… I get it, okay? But that doesn’t mean I’m Not. Fucking. Watching. OF COURSE I AM. And crying. At work.
Dude, I watched his PARENTS get married, I used to have a crush on his UNCLE (yes, I’m old). I cried through the night when his mother died, and like to lost my damn mind watching her funeral. And I’m going home later to update my “Royal Line of Succession” book (You, the other one? Younger Prince? Looks like you’re my last hope, come over here and sit on Mama’s lap…).
So yeah, I’m one of the bazillions of sheep watching the Royal Wedding like we’re all supposed to, but that works out GREAT for you bitches!
See, I’ve decided to start a new section on my Blogroll entitled, “The Royal Court.” This is the people who have automatic places in my post-apocolyptic government (you’ll see their future titles if you hover your mouse over them).
Don’t have a title? Tell me what you should be. Not on the list? Comment, bitches. Comment well and comment often. There’s an MRE in it for ya.