Wednesday, May 31, 2006

”Fuck me, it’s Prince Charles!”

”Fuck me, it’s Prince Charles!”

So, there I was this evening hanging around outside the Scottish Parliament building in Edinburgh, taking a few snaps in a moody sunset for my Flickr stream and chatting to a fellow tourist who, coincidentally lives just over the Ridgeway from me in the Duke of Cornwall’s model town development of Poundbury.

All of a sudden, a door opens, and amongst a big knot of armed goons, is the Duke himself, HRH Prince Charles on his way from some official beano to a feast of virgin flesh in Holyrood Palace.

“Oooh, fuck noooo…” says Poundbury guy, “I come four hundred miles for my holidays, and who’s the first person I meet? The sodding landlord…”

Oh, how we laughed.

I did not see his Camilla.

Bollocks to this, I’m back home to Weymouth.

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