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Mean Queen

HRH in pink.Ten years ago, Queen Elizabeth II surpassed Victoria as the longest reigning monarch in British history. Today she is 91 years old and still does her own shopping at Tesco (she’s a coupon clipper). Reportedly, she uses her mobile to send text messages generously festooned with the latest emojis. Royal observers and others are concerned, however, by her recent appearance and by her increasingly bizarre behavior. The normally reticent and unfailingly polite and proper ruler is growing more irascible by the day if whispers are to be believed. Palace insiders, speaking anonymously, have characterized her as a “right prat” and “clearly off her trolley.” One concerned insider related an incident in which the Queen threatened to “drop a biggie” on an unfortunate ice cream vendor (he was sold out of Nobbly Bobblies©). The accompanying photographs do rather explain the concerns about her appearance, and rumours of her intention to join that “Twit thing” are alarming.[1]

Here are recent examples of the Queen’s responses to questions put to her by an unnamed patron at the Queen’s local, The Cricket and the Shoe.

HRH at The Regent's Park.

On a recent visit to The Regent’s Park:

A swan?! Blimey, what a bleedin’ hideous git it was. You think we don’t know an ugly duckling when we see one? We pushed barmy Prince Charles out of our womb didn’t we? Didn’t feed him any bollocks about growing up to be a bloody handsome swan did we now? With those ears?

This “sweet swan?” Had to have our man wring its neck right there. The Tower’s too posh for that bleeder. We’ll feed it to Camilla.


HRH crowned.

On Brexit and other issues of the day:

All’s well that ends bugger all, as you like it. Labour’s lost and whatnot. A hearse, a hearse, my Kingdom in a hearse. Still, easy wears the crown that shares this head. Something, something, rule Encyclopedia Britannica–we few, we proud, this blinkered isle. Once more unto the bleach and all our tomorrows creep in at this bloody pace from day to day and alas we knew poor people, yo rich! The law is a ass, and when found make a note on’t, because Barkis is willin’. All you need is love and a tale told by an idiot eight days a week. Because what a brave new world is this where the game’s a football shape, eh Watson? All we can offer is bloody, sweaty toil, and after a fretful hour strutting on stage, to exit pursued by a bare man in Hammersmith Palais though we live by the river. And how many holes does it take to fill the Albert Hall? 42.


HRH with the Duchess of Cambridge.

On the Duchess Kate:

Wonderful bird! Laughs like a drunken Irishman at the most vile crudities, though. Just an ‘orrible sense of humor. And her husband’s going bald, such a shame that. We don’t believe his grandfather, the Consort we mean, of course–we wouldn’t know anything about that Spencer tart’s father. If she had one. Anyway, we don’t believe our Philip went bald anytime before his 70th, but we couldn’t really say. Charles though, bald with ears like great, bloody mainsails before he was out of short pants.

The Duchess of Cambridge, still, wonderful bird. Her sister, Pippi or so, she’s a fit one alright. Bit of a slapper.


HRH with trophy.

On becoming longest-reining British monarch

A bloomin’ cheap trophy. That’s what we get for acting the nursemaid to this nation of shopkeepers for 65 years? A sodding bowling trophy? We’ll not soon forget that. Every bloody lorry driver gets a useless pocket watch after 40 years on the job. Worthless but still better than a bleedin’ trophy. It’s not like we expected another stonking castle, but a trophy?


  1. I did not create these images. The original idea and images are the products of the mind and talents of graphic designer Michal Krauthamer. There are now imitators, but his are the originals and the best. View more on his Instagram page at www.instagram.com/ogtrumpqueen. [^]

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