Plus, you are first thing off going to get to thinking that I’m the “Andy Rooney” of antagonists who pan the British Royal Family.
I’m not Andy Rooney and I could care less if the Brits waste their money on a Royal Family. That’s up to them!
Speaking of Andy Rooney, doesn’t he have the neatest, coolest staccato ire and sarcasm in his voice that just sucks you in?
But this is not about the old guy on TV on Sunday nights. It’s about the Brits and the Royal Wedding.
After all the Brits are really nice people who are our best friends even after we beat them in a long-time humiliating war sometime after 1776 when we won our independence from them in the Revolutionary War.
How graceful is that?!? Plus the Brits have the DNA that gave us Cary Grant! Now anyone who has cable TV, or is over the age of 50, I know has seen a Cary Grant romantic comedy movie and will know exactly what I’m talking about.
He’s not only funny. Cary Grant is more than that, he’s downright delightful! His eyes sparkle. His whole demeanor sparkles. He’s more than romantic.
He’s romantic, coupled with great looks and the best smile ever put on the face of a human by God Almighty!
He’s the quintessential of “perky” in maleness. Do you know of even one other perky male? Cary Grant is, you know, like the Katie Couric of the quintessentialness of the female of “perkiness.” (Alright, I know “quintessentialness” isn’t a word, but it works here, and I can’t think of anything else that says what I mean. Just go with it, okay?)
Now, back to the Royal Wedding and the whole purpose of this post. (But, hold on a minute, I’m going to have to search it on the Net to get the names of the two who are getting married.) I never committed their names to my long-term memory – and if I were to admit the whole truth, I never even deposited them into my short-term memory bank either . . . . . . . . . . . .
Okay, yeah, I got their names! Thank the heavens for the Net. I looked at Rob Kerby’s blog here on Beliefnet at:
and got their names there. It’s Prince William and commoner Kate Middleton.
Now, at last, for the whole of the entire reason why I’m writing this!
Am I the only vixetta here on planet earth (that’s a wolf who is of the female gender) who could care less about the Royal Wedding?
Frankly, my dear, I just don’t give a darn. Do you? Leave me a note and let me know if you don’t care either.
If I should care and be all excited, please tell me why!
I’m pondering now . . . thinking – thinking – thinking . . . of reasons why I should be interested . . . Ah ha!!! I got a reason…
At her grandson’s wedding, do you think Queen Elizabeth will be carrying one of those ridiculous skinny, but obnoxiously large purses she always totes around with her? I wonder what could possibly fit in her purse other than 25 sheets of typing paper? The attention she pays to her purse, don’t you think it’s a bit on the creepy side? Makes we wonder …
Say, can I ask you to click “Like” up at the top of this column? Thanks!
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