The Duke of Edinburgh has provided the nation with a fascinating - if somewhat revolting - insight into everyday sexual practices in the House of Windsor, telling anyone who fails to notice him approaching that he achieves orgasm with the aid of a television.
“Nn-this new-fangled rubbish, nnit’s all just bloody appalling, isn’t it?” rants the 88-year-old consort. “Nn-to work out how to operate a TV set you have to practically make love to the thing. I mean, look at this bloody ghastly remote control Can you decipher it? No you can't, because it’s all covered in spunk.”
“Can you imagine me rolling around naked on the floor with a torch, a magnifying glass and an instruction manual? Bloody Freeview,” he berates his red-faced victims, whom protocol requires to nod sympathetically thirty times before an equerry can rescue them by luring the prince away with a bottle of port.
Prince Philip also routinely assaults the ears of embarrassed palace guests with frequent tirades against modern industrial design, claiming that “nn-these new tellies are so damned thin that one can’t even give them a bloody good thump when Babestation freezes up, usually just as the bint is finally about to whip out her charlies” and “one simply cannot find an honest-to-God British telly for love or money nowadays - we bought a Bush set from Currys and, would you credit it, even that turns out to be made by evil little slitty-eyed buggers in Ying-Tong Land!”
The prince usually wanders off eventually, apologised a royal spokesman, once he discovers that all the guests have huddled tightly together, pretending to be deep in discussion about the merits of republicanism or how strongly they support the hunting ban.
However, he refused to confirm or deny reports that the duke leaves the room shouting for a valet to slide the palace copy of 40 Plus under the door of the WC.
No comments:
Post a Comment