Today I venture forth from my flat for the first time since naked pictures of me were released on the internet. And, even though he’s embarrassed, I’m bring Mr. Tallywacker with me. Jolly good and all that! Tally ho!
That is to say, wow, isn’t my tally a ho?
Being royal isn’t easy. No, not that I’m blue-blooded, but I am royal in so many ways. Royally screwed. Royally flushed. Well, you get the idea.
And, once you’ve seen me naked, you’ll never unforget why they often call me “Prince Hairy.” If any of you ladies are sound asleep and in need of waking, but sure to give me a call and I’ll be happy to help you with a passionate kiss. But if you have to wake up to make the call then the offer expires. Mwuhaha. Aren’t I romantic?
What do I mean? First, define the problem. He wanted to stick it out there, in our faces as it were, just like all the rest of them. Brett Favre, Anthony Weiner, etc. Why should commoners like that have all the fun? But photographing ye olde junke and sending it via Twitter simply wouldn’t do. Bad form and all that.
The solution, however, was absolutely brilliant. Leave Twitter out of it and go the eccentric route. Astounding! The same end result has been achieved and the same level of fuss (if not more), and without the same sort of humiliation that comes with the tacky Twitter method used by the masses.
The man who would be king is shrew, indeed. He’s shrewd lewd. You might think he’s a royal pain in the arse but he really did pull it off. And single-handedly he’s become one of the elite top stories lapped at by the media ever since this leaked. GOP convention? Tropical storm Isaac pounding the gulf coast? 5,000 dead in Syria? DNC convention? Apple wins against Samsung? Forget all that! Prince Hairy has gone completely mental.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have places to go and things to see. I’m on a timetable today. It’s time to put Prince Hairy back in his trousers. “Goodnight, sweet prince, you future king of new media.”
I said, “Good day!”
Note: I wrote this piece with a British accent. Ask the British version of Siri to read it to you, perhaps while you enjoy a spot of tea and a crumpet.