poliphilo

I watched the bit where they were all turning up to the Abbey: various hereditary monarchs from places like Tonga, Monaco and Lichtenstein, Prince Charles's old girlfriends in scene-stealing hats, Elton John and David Furnish. Formerly I would have stayed to mock, but I'm getting too old to play the urchin; I have my own dignity to consider- so I went and cleaned the toilet instead.

Then I had a shower. Then I clipped the hedge.

They're still at it. I'm back in the room with the TV because that's where the computer is. The archbishop has just blessed the congregation and the choir has gone AAAAaaaaaAAAAaaaagh-men. Now there are trumpets. And now it's the national anthem. Apparently Prince Charles, who likes that sort of thing, has imported a lot of Parry into the service.

Odd wedding- one at which the groom's old dad gets to pick the music.! But I'm starting to do just what I said I wouldn't. Shut up, Grist!