Tonight, Matthew, I’ll be a tabloid

Have you heard – Charles plans to marry Camilla!
Just kidding.
I know you know. We all know. The whole world knows. Ask any Brazilian/Innuit/Luxemburger what he thinks of Camilla; he’ll know you’re not offering him herbal tea.
I know, there are more pressing matters going on in this world, more shocking and important, life or death matters. Like the utter contempt with which everyone talks about Camilla. I sum up: what admirable, noble thing to do for the prince, to marry the mistress, the tired old bag. Gah.
What about her, don’t you think she has to be properly brave to say I do to that geeky-looking chinless wonder, who doesn’t even have a proper job yet? And what about his family? The future in laws are as much fun as colonic irrigation; one of the sons turned up at a party in a nazi uniform. What will he wear to the wedding? Turn up as Henry VIII, the guy who had six wives, got two of them beheaded and provoked a schism when he divorced the first one?
In the meantime to British public is being bombarded with polls. What do you think of this royal wedding? Do you agree with it in principle? That’s surreal. If you ask anyone what they think about some old geezer marrying his long-standing girlfriend, chances are he’ll reply how the fuck am I supposed to know that? But as soon as it’s Charles we’re talking about, 100% of people have an opinion. Which means that there 98 times more people who have an opinion on that matter that on whether or not they are in favour of the European Constitution. In fact there is only one certainty: 100% of people wonder when they’ll manage to have an opinion on the proposed European Constitution except for Britons, who in their majority are instinctively against anything with the word ‘European’ in it.
And I am one of those opinionless people. I just do not know. As to Charlmilla, I hope no-one chokes on a piece of overpriced wedding cake. That’d be such a shame. Life and death.