Rant And Regal

Housemates.. If you order something to be delivered, it’s not going to be a surprise to you when it turns up.
It fecking is to me!
And I object to having to get up after 90 minutes sleep to open the bastard door.
Especially when the addressee, is IN.
Do I have to remind anyone of “The Next Catalogue” incident?
Don’t make me shout.
None of you like it.
Also, if you are using the smallest saucepan we have, on the largest gas ring we have; that strange chemical, burning smell will be the fucking handle melting.
If the smell didn’t give you a hint, what part of your porridge recipe said?
“Serve with cold milk and honey once surrounded by thick, black, noxious smoke”.
You complete and utter moron!
The highly empathetic of you may have picked up on my lack of sleep in the last few days.

Weirdest thing I’ve seen today was during the programme, Monarchy: The Royal Family at Work.
We were shown the White House preparing for the Queen’s arrival and footage of a black lady painting it, telling us that there were many kinds of white.
The White House is not any old white.
It’s ‘Whisper’ White, not China, not Navajo.
Whisper.
The irony was not lost on me.

Funniest thing was a posh bloke, talking about some art, using the word ‘interregnum’.
The camera had panned round onto a room full of Yanks and you could tell they were all wondering what their arses had to do with anything!
Prince Phillip was as ever, brilliantly grumpy.
I think he nicked the pen when he signed the White House visitor’s book.
He may have used is own but I really, really hope he robbed it!
I love him.
On a related note, no one wears a bit of bling like our Queen.