Well, I do love a wedding, and those royals know how to throw out a spread. I sat glued to Diana's wedding to what's-his-name, and that was before Diana was "the people's princess," or simply "Di" to all her gay friends like Elton and Versace.
And now her son, William, has given Kate Middleton Diana's oval diamond-and-sapphire engagement ring, the one Diana refused to wear once news broke of what's-his-name's infidelities.
Kate has been William's girl for eight years, and her friends thought she was nuts to wait this long. Kate has surely been screaming "crazy like a fox, bitches!" into her cell phone for the last 48 hours.
Please God, allow this young man, this educated, enlightened young man who looks so achingly like his mother I could weep, to be the next King of England. Let's segue directly into a monarch with a fresh, hopeful slate, a man who honors his mom by visiting AIDS hospices and advocating against land mines.
As for William's father, well, I suppose there have been far worse on the throne. Apparently you can be a total douche (or hope to be a tampon) and still wear the crown. But I really don't want him or that wench Camilla anywhere near Buckingham Palace.
May I just say how fabulous it is to write about this, as if I have a say in it? Just throwing around my opinion about the royals, as a wedding nears, is thrilling. All my life gays have called each other "queen," and here we have the real thing playing out. Ah, me.
Finally, I wish to point out that with William's engagement, the most eligible bachelor in the United Kingdom is Prince Harry, the redhead (right), for whom I have great affection because I, too, am a redhead.
So gingers are suddenly very hot, and I'd appreciate a little freaking respect. Thank you.
Now, please leave us. We are very tired.