The Royal Bedding, er, Wedding.

Millions of British people are anxiously waiting for this Friday, April 29th., to celebrate the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. Millions more, I suspect, including yours truly, are praying for Friday to get here for a different reason.

Because they are UTTERLY SICK of being bombarded on the TV and in the 'papers by gushing Oxbridge sheep agonizing over every detail of the couple and the nuptials, Baa, Baa, Bah!!

Robert Tressell, the author of the "Ragged Trousered Philanthropists," a cynical condemnation of the forelock tugging British of his day during the Victorian and Edwardian eras, must be turning over in his grave at this latest extravaganza by the good old scions of privilege: British royalty. (He died in 1911, but his book is still accurate and evergreen).

David Cameron, the right (extremely) wing prime minister has been debating in the press, and receiving much advice from thousands who benefit not at all, on whether to go in a lounge suit or full dress with tails. (The latest: tails - of course...the demurring was just to make us think he is one of us).

Getting a ticket to the affair has caused acrimony and cat fights all over Lunnon town. The bride and groom don't want former ministers, Blair and Brown, (can't blame 'em for that; wouldn't have either at my funeral), but they have insisted on Elton John and his own gay bride, (or groom?) David Furness. Posh and Becks are invited, of course, and there is much infighting about who gets to sit next to David Beckham and his wife. The list of obnoxious "A-List" celebrities is being changed and added-to daily.

The "Day" has been declared a national holiday in order to win over the disenchanted. The British working class will shortly be imposed with unpaid overtime, the money to go to the exchequer to pay for the odd billion or so all this will cost, (not true, but we will be paying, no doubt of that, along with the unwanted Libyan conflict, the billions to prop up the EU, bank rescue, Ireland, Portugal, Greece and, soon, Spain, and the rest of the Middle East).

Fans of the affair say, "Hey, this is going to bring in millions from tourists." Yes, right, who will be staying in foreign owned hotels and restaurants; buying clothes from Arab emporiums (like Harrods) and buying tickets from foreign airlines along with enriching dubious Hong Kong sweat shop employers making wedding mugs and other trashy memorabilia.. When does the bloke on the street ever see any of all this gelt brought in by these affairs? It'll be a happy day in Texas! See my note.

Haven't these clots got any shame? Doesn't stealing millions from the public purse and from you and I, not a penny of which you have any say over, ever cause them to lie awake at night?

And now Kate Middle-class, a pretty enough bit of fluff, will one day be queen they say, and he, king, of course. We don't even have the good sense of ants and honey-bees, at least their queens are equipped to be USEFUL! What on Earth does Katey have that millions will want to hang on her every word and pay homage to her all her life? My god, is this the ultimate courtesan or is it not? (Google will remove more accurate characterisation).

William seems a pleasant enough young man, but given the spoiled genes of dad and the unstable ones of mum, I wouldn't like to go for a long helicopter ride with him. "You're being unfair!!" Yes, I am, but so are you, ramming your bloody coupling down my throat and insisting I pay for it when I JUST DON'T GIVE A DAMN!

The WHOLE of the Metropolitan police farce, er, force, have had their leave cancelled and thousands of them will line the streets. This shows just how incredibly and mindlessly dangerous it is to flaunt British colonialism and wealth (read debt) in the face of world terrorists and their impoverished hordes, whom, as you read, will doubtlessly by planning a way to disrupt things. What a coup for Bin Laden and Co if he could spoil this day for his hated enemies. The government and Homeland Security know this, why are they allowing all this to go on? “We are the British Empire, mate, borrow another trillion from the cuzzies and...pass the ammunition...watch how you go, don‘t slip on that oil!”

The times I got hitched (mind your own!) were all in a small chapel or the registry office. Even some wealthy people today decide to have small affairs. After all, who really cares apart from the couple, close family and friends? They (marriages) don’t last anyway, according to the stats. Though it’s not so easy to rid oneself of a royal bride (ask Charlie as he muses of blooded corpses in French tunnels). Yes, he will be a centre-stage with his camel, er, Camilla. What a bloody charade!

Note: I just bought a wedding mug. You whaaa? yes, but the Chinese company slipped up and put Kate and Harry’s photo on it!

(Not William) It’ll be worth a fortune on ebay one day!