Wednesday, 18 May 2011

Shock: We're on Tour with the Queen

Rio: So,Tippi, I'll tell you how the rest of yesterday went. The doorbell rings minutes after the Queen leaves. There's this fella again with the furry beehive hat an the red suit. He starts jabbering away. I swear, I need subtitles with this lot. I says to him, "If ye took the chinstrap of that hat out of your mouth, I might have a clue what you're saying." So, he moves it and then continues. Not a breeze, do I have. That Queen should have gotten her people English lessons before they took the trip over. He gives up and presses 2 VIP Queen Tour Access All Areas passes into my hand and leaves.
I dropped yours over but I only saw you briefly in the crowd later on. Who or what were you doing? Anyway, the rest of yesterday was a whirlwind. A fella from the Department of Queens came around first and coached me on the etiquette for these things. If anyone asked me a question I didn't understand I was just to say "There's a new maturity in our relationship." or I was to talk about "benefits to our tourism industry"
 She picked me up in her Hummer about an hour later. Pink with the playboy symbol on the side. Bit much for my tastes. Off we go to the Garden of Remembrance. She's in the back of the Hummer, knocking back straight JD's and picking her teeth with a cocktail stick, when she turns to me and says, "Is this a war thing? Golly gosh, how I love war stuff. Mr. Queen has a lovely war museum in the dungeons at the palace. Full of lovely memorabilia sent over by the Nazi rellies after the misunderstanding "
Says I, "Indeedin' it is Ma'am, it's a lovely garden to remember all those who died in the cause of Irish freedom"
She laughs, "Irish freedom? Good luck with that!"
We meet up with the Irish Queen whatsername, ( the one who we only elected because she had the same name and job as the really good one before her. Bit of a disappointment there), and the two of them nod at the statues and stuff. It's a good gig this queening, Tippi. Anyway, off we go later for her to leave her stuff up at her digs in the Phoenix Park.  On the way we pass the Pope's Cross. I'm doing my bit for tourism by giving her a bit of info about the sights. She hadn't a clue what the Pope's Cross was, not being a Christian herself. I explained what it was. She knew who the Pope was though.
Says she, "One wants to be the next Pope. I'll inherit the title from the current Pope, Nazi Benny, he's my brother. By Jove, it's such frightful fun, all those men living together wearing beautiful dresses, so queenly. One is going to centralise the child rape and torture in the Tower,when one takes the throne, now that they've got it all out in the open. No need for shooing under the carpet, my dear."
Says I, "Beggin' your pardon Ma'am but you can't become Pope"
Says she, "Goodness me, why ever not?" Says I, "Because you're a woman Ma'am"
She seemed a little put out by that so I changed the subject and showed her the Aras. I says to her, I says
"This was once the Vice Regal Lodge. That's means Royal types would have parties with prostitutes and illegal enjoyable things, there."
"Perfect", says she, "Mr. Queen always samples the local whores when we're out foreign, and we've brought 1 million Pollack fags ith us in the suitcases to sell on your Moore Street. So, we'll fit right in there"
I thought calling them Pollack fags was a bit racist but maybe it's the queenly etiquette again. What would I know.
I explain to her that she's not kipping in with our Queen, she's staying at Farmleigh. She is not happy. There's no proper fountain.
"One is a hoor for a fountain", says she.
We pass some beggars on the way up the Main Avenue. She's shocked she hadn't thought anyone lived in Ireland except the  Irish Queen, Eamonn Gilmore and meself up to this point.
Says I, "There are 630,000 people living in poverty in this country Ma'am, perhaps you'd spare a thought for them?"
And she says it again, Tippi, "Let them eat cock"
Coarse, these Queens, very coarse. So, where were you Tippi? And where was Mr. Queen?


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