So Awfully, Terribly, You Know ... Nice …

Years ago, when saying something against the Royals in public, I could have lost my head in a rather distasteful manner. These days, people just let rip on the 'nobs' … they’ve let rip on us on more than one occasion (one is not happy about modernisation etc).

In locals in the good old USA, have been lavishing attention on Prince Charles and his new wife (new? I‘ve seen better looking 2nd-hand Volvos …). Normally, I would ignore the thousands of words pouring out of the columns of Royal Correspondents. However, I found an absolute gem;

'The Duchess of Cornwall took centre stage when the royal visit to the US took in an organic farmers' market in the Californian hills. Camilla, wearing a navy blue trouser suit, tried local produce, including cheese and salmon fishcake. She later enjoyed half a pint of beer in a pub. "I'm eating my way around here. Luckily I've got a good appetite." (Unlike his first ...)

Come on, why must we know what the poor old soul is wearing? Had she been wearing something else, would she have eaten an entirely different 'local product?'

'Meanwhile, Prince Charles talked to farmers …'. Umm, chatting to organisms capable of replying, eh matey?

Camilla, on the other hand, was besotted by organic beauty products (!). The owner of an organic cream stall told 'our Camsy' that "these are products that keep my 50-year-old skin looking healthy". Apparently, the Duchess bought some. She must be desperate just to look 50 again …

'The tour has been a diverse one, taking the couple to Ground Zero in Manhattan and to visit people affected by Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans' Great. You’ve just lost everything in a natural disaster and been relocated miles from home, when some seriously rich foreigner and his pampered wife come along and ask "Have you come far?"

Naturally, the Americans did not disappoint on the 'cras lines' stakes. After drinking a pint of something called Boot Hammer (any references to his wife will be dealt with accordingly), Charles chatted to Judy Borello, the owner of 'an old fashioned saloon bar called the Old Western Hotel' (gee, how quaint). After meeting Britain’s National Embarrassment, Ms Borello said "Marvellous! He's a Prince of a fella …"

Thanks Judy.

'As the royal couple went back out into the bright Californian sunshine, Charles patted the bar's dog Fred' And, no doubt, engaged the pooch in a conversation about urban architecture …

That'll teach me to buy a newspaper ...

Stu