Willing and Able.
I read a story in yesterday's People's Paper that pleased me via many varied and interesting stages and thusly I wish to share it with you:
'Prince William has gone on an $11,000 bender to drown his separation blues.'
Fair enough, I guess. A broken heart will do that to a fellow. HE'S JUST LIKE US COMMONERS, YOU SEE.
'William and girlfriend Kate Middleton split up because the new Blue and Royals guards officer was more focused on being a tank commander.'
Alright, perhaps he's not that much like us.
By the way, is this not the best reason for a break-up ever? 'I'm terribly sorry, I don't think we can see each other anymore. It's just that I'm absolutely bursting to don a pith helmet and pretend to be G.I. Joe. Toodle pip'.
'The prince yelled 'Let's drink the menu,' as he and pals hit trendy London club Mahiki on Friday night, racking up the enormous bar bill.
They hit the club at 11:30pm and were shown to a private table near the back.
Perusing the menu, the table of eight decided to take on the 'Mahiki Trail', a menu that is based on a map with 18 cocktails.
If they can achieve that, they win the club's infamous Treasure Chest: a free $250 cocktail for eight.'
This part raises a significant amount of questions, I must say.
1. Eighteen cocktails per person? Or eighteen amongst eight? How does that divide fairly, do you suppose? I hate maths.
2. Does the notion of rewarding a table full of liquored-up pink-cheeked feys for completing an excessive drinks menu with further alcohol seem somewhat like irresponsible bartending to you? I have half a mind to write to my local MP.
3. Does the eight-person cocktail come in an enormous novelty glass with eight straws? I do hope so. The picture I have invented in my mind of William and friends leaning in together for boyish sips is quite wonderful.
'Along with favourites such as the Pina Colada, the menu contained zany cocktails such as the Bikini Blast, Lover's Cup and Poisoned Chalice, ranging from $17.50 to $120 a drink.
Having worked through the menu, the prince and his boozy pals also downed six magnums of 1998 Dom Perignon at $1125 a bottle.'
Why don't I ever run into boys like this when I am out amongst it? The best I get is a tequila shot and a breathy promise of rubbings in the Tote toilets. If someone offered to buy me a $120 cocktail I'd probably kiss them square on the mouth.
p.s. While I feel our reporter is possibly stretching the friendship with his definition of the word 'zany', it's still nice to see it nestled in there amongst all the important newsings.
'William was dragged to the dance floor for a rendition of You Can't Always Get What You Want before breaking into a robot dance.'
IS THIS NOT THE BEST BIT OF THE ENTIRE ARTICLE.
Reasons why:
a) How the fuck does one robot dance to the Stones? I would have thought the two were mutually exclusive, like Joe Hockey and frottage.
b) PRINCE WILLIAM CAN ROBOT DANCE.
c) PRINCE WILLIAM CAN ROBOT DANCE.
'After it, the prince yelled, "I'm free!"
Finally bodyguards helped the bleary-eyed prince out of the club at 3:30am.'
He's free, people. He's free.
I wonder if he'd be interested in dating a slightly shop-soiled thirty year old television writer with a penchant for knee-high socks? I'm not very good at getting out of cars in a dignified manner, but I always remember my pleases and thankyous.
210 days til the next election.
p.s. I hope this post doesn't strike me out of Monsieur_LeBehemoth's good books.
Comments
Someone explain to me again why the British put up with the royal family and the huge amount of money wasted on them?
He's free.
To do what he wants! Any old time!
(Unless Grandmama tells him otherwise)
Did he yell "I'm Free" like Mr Humphries would?
He's a boozed up robot-dancing tank commander.
Why the FUCK would we *ever* want to stop being part of the Commonwealth?! WE NEED THESE PEOPLE IN OUR LIVES!!
And Mr The Water Ox can just chill the fuck out! The only reason Royals exist is for stuff like this.
You are so right, dr nic. Fuck knows where we'd be without Boozo the Cyborg Kilbot and his younger brother Spazred le Ginge.
Around this time last year I met Wils' Uncle Ed, an odd bloke with a rather limp handshake. Although the connection between the House of Mountbatten-Windsor and myself is tenuous at best, I'd be pleased to attempt an introduction between William of Wales and your good self. Who knows what may come of it?? Let me know if you're seriously interested...
Of course, the real question is: would you become HRH Ms Fits? Or would this royal occasion call for the introduction of an entirely new nom de plume? And what could that possibly be?
On a vaguely-related matter involving intoxication, I'm somewhat concerned about your close association with that reformed dope fiend, Mr Faine (see today's Hun: http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,21568451-2862,00.html)
He's a wicked, wicked man, that one...
BTW - are you coming to my show in the Comedy Festival, where I 'out' the aforementioned radio identity as a dangerous opinion peddler responsible for ruining the lives of countless talkback junkies such as myself? Hope to see you there...
was that a Mr. Humphrey's style
"i'm free."
I have half a mind to write to my local MP.
I know this is probably a Friday Question, but that line in your article above prompted the thought (that and the planting of that song by Wicked Beat Sound System from a long, long time ago ...)
Ms Fits, who is your local MP(s)? ... and do you write to them often?
Why is it that the only people who write to their local MPs are just plain angry - and usually are comletely off base when they lob their verbal or written grenades.
Why doesn't someone write to their local MP and say what a great job they are doing? or maybe even just bring their staff flowers ... or even a poppy-seed muffin, although they probably wouldn't eat it for fear of razor blades secreted within it in this cruel and thankless world ...
You are so right, dr nic. Fuck knows where we'd be without Boozo the Cyborg Kilbot and his younger brother Spazred le Ginge.
Well for one, we wouldn't have "Boozo the Cyborg Kilbot" in our lexicon.
I love reading that the "firm" objected to the Middleton family because they chewed gum and said 'toilet' rather than 'lavatory'.......
....because getting blind drunk and groping breasts is just SO MUCH more classy! It's the Royal way.
I'd say SHE'S FREE from having to put up with a balding, stupid man (albeit, rich and a future king).
You're speaking about the man I love, Anon. TAKE IT BACK.
"The advanced guide to making an idiot of yourself."
Robot dance.
Killer line.
PS. This tale be apocryphal?
It's nice to see the link to Mr Behemoth - I've been reading both of your blogs for years. Obviously the Australian blogging scene is a lot more, err, incestuous than I first thought.
Also, Ms Fits - I visited Mario's on Brunswick St for the first time last week with two friends, purely off your recommendations in several posts that I've read here. Needless to say, the food was delicious.
*aside*
Re: giant cocktails with straws - such can be had at that weirdo Thai/Hawaiian themed joint in (Russel St? - shit I'm helpful). More for 3 or 4 people than 8, but in a cut-glass bowl with extra-long straws.
It's called the Bowl of Mystery, and lives up to the name. I *think* it's based on white rum and tequila, with fruit juice and bits of fruit and ice and shit. About $50 per mystery.
That would be Mai Thai's anon at 2.52 (corner of russell and lonsdale)
Not that I've spent much time there on 'ladies night' getting schliquored on cheap cocktails before heading to the Supper Inn and feasting on Quails and Pork.
I'm WAY too classy for that.
FDB - the Vietnamese/Hawaiian-themes cocktail bar on Russel Street is Mai Tai, and yes, everything about Mai Tai lives up to exectations ...
pleases and thankyous might not cut it with the prince. one of the morning tv shows (sunrise or the other crappy one on channel 9, i can't remember) had some british tabloid expert on talking about the breakup rumours.
one of the rumours going around is that she was just too common... her mother was too common and well, that made HER too common to marry a prince.
"She [Kate's mother] is pushy, rather twee and incredibly middle-class. She uses words such as "Pleased to meet you", "toilet" and "pardon".
to win the prince you should use lavatory, and how do you do. and i guess saying pardon means you were rude and weren't listening or something. so just smile and nod instead!
Apparently robot-dancing is the new rock n roll. Perhaps it is there to disguise being completely unable to dance?
And I don't know about you, but I take comfort in the fact someone like that would be driving a bloody tank...
Smiling and nodding happen to be two of my best qualities, Reanon.
Regarding Mario's - The food might have been delicious, but how was the service.
MsFits, I’m surprised that someone who comes across as charming and whimsical as you enjoys the posturing and rudeness of such a place.
Or do you go because you think it’s funny?
I do think it's a bit funny, yes. Perhaps I'm just used to it by now.
Also: WHO THE SAM-HILL THINKS OF SERVICE WHEN YOU ARE EATING PUTTANESCA ENDORSED BY JESUS.
See this is where I'm going wrong with things... when I break up with someone I shouldn't sit at home felling sorry for myself and give the cat the shits by wanting to spend time with it.
I should go out and get drunk, spend lots of money that I didn't earn and basically make an arse of myself... after all that's what sets 'royalty' aside from the rest of us 'common people'
Fitsy, my ex and I met Will, Kate and Harry last summer at the polo (the ex's firm was sponsoring the day).
He seemed like a nice guy, but Harry is much more fun - in between virtually having sex with his girlfriend on the dance floor, he also managed to spend part of the evening air-guitaring on his knees with my ex to Guns and Roses.
I'm impressed he could even robot dance after $11,000 of top shelf.
And I thought they split up because her Mum is a bogan, ie; says toilet instead of lavatory?
Tripped over a fellow diner's foot at Marios a couple of months ago.
When I looked down to see it was a brilliant lookin' Kerry Armstrong foot, I almost fainted.
The otherwise lovely girly with me at the time is a Noo Zoolander and didn't have a clue who Kerry Armstrong was when I tried to whisper to explain.
"Fuck, she's old lecking," NZ informs.
Great puttanesca but.
hmm...
just broken up...
hungover...
a fleet of tanks at your disposal...
It may make me a shameless hypocrite, but in spite of my bloggish anti-Willmania rantings, the fact I got mentioned on your blog just dissolves any possible rancour and makes me giggle and simper like a schoolgirl.
Anyway, attractive funny people like us never count in any broad criticism of societal trends.
You also raised some interesting points. To put this in a historical context, tanks also played a large part in the breakdown of Abelard's relationship with Heloise.
Good to see the colonials keeping up with the villager's news here.
ps there's a couch here in Wimbledon for another 3 nights Fitsy if you want to give Will a shot.
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Is there possibility that when Will becomes king he might be making Robot Dance poses on our money? Would be delightfully unique!
ey oop, lookout, it's stoner wednesday is it? Wheeeee!
Sorry Ms Fits, not taking it back.
May I suggest a self help book along the lines of "women who love men who love oversize cocktails"
or "toxic boringness: when you just can't get enough of a dull man".
Ms Fits,
Thank you muchly for double giggles (boozy prince and your onstage efforts) in a very busy work day, complete with co-worker who is slowly driving me insane.
Make that quickly. Oh dear.
Trent said "Of course, the real question is: would you become HRH Ms Fits? " No - I think FitsWilliam. And of course, William fits Ms F- oh, never mind.
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