Tuesday, 19 April 2011
Will my last scraps of sanity see me through the wedding?
Like some terrible version of the Chinese water torture the unrelenting drip, drip ,drip of Royal Wedding propaganda erodes sanity and seeps into every tiny exposed crevice of the mind. I awoke screaming in the middle of the night having dreamt that our High Street was bedecked in Union Jacks from end to end with the usual dull parade of coffee outlets and estate agents resembling a 1980's NF rally. But it was no dream. Yesterday evening, bewitched by the idea of "from pitman to princess in five generations" her indoors actually watched a program about the Middletons. Personally I am more taken with the idea of the Windsors being forced down the mines but you know me.