God save us from the King

I’m not part of their club. I’m not happy and I’m not going to cheer. The fact that the heir to a dynasty of exploitation and pain has managed to impregnate another over privileged heffer is not a cause for celebration to me. It’s meaningless and I feel sorry for those idiots flooding the Twitter and Facebook highways with their trite congratulations. And as for those buffoons who actually waited outside the hospital overnight, words fails me.

I don’t care if William or Charles or Harry or Henry or whatever his name is has a million fucking sprogs. It says nothing to me about my life. These people with their inherited wealth and the blood of millions on their hands should dig themselves a big hole, fill it with petrol and jump inside holding a lit match.

I’m not going to celebrate the birth of another blue blood baby. I’m not going to cheer as he grows up, goes to fucking Eton, then Oxford, and then becomes an officer in the RAF or the Navy while prematurely losing his hair. When will these royals realise that they are not living in Tudor times and we are not their ‘Subjects’?

If this kid wants to earn my respect (which he doesn’t) let him grow up and realise what an outrage it is that there is a place for the monarchy in the 21st Century. Let him understand that all of his wealth has been stolen from innocents. Let him dismantle the throne and start giving his money back to the people who have earned it and need it.

Then and only then might I start celebrating the birth of another royal brat.


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