Poor little Queenie

With the usual warning that the ‘story’ is from the newspaper turd that is the Mail on Sunday, I give you the news that Andrew Windsor was so upset to be axed from many of his royal non-jobs he took out his disappointment by killing a few animals. Well, we’ve all done it, haven’t we? Who hasn’t come home from a bad day at work and kicked the shit out your cat or put a bullet through the dog’s brain? I mean, who doesn’t have sympathy with such a loathsome nonce?

Well, the Queen for one. As she contemplates spending her latest jubilee year without the love of her life, I’ll bet she is mightily pissed off. The friend of a paedophile and a child sex trafficker has effectively put at risk the entire future of the royal family. Frankly, I couldn’t care less.

I’ve been of the view that while just about everyone loves the royal family, it would be pointless in me railing against it. I always regarded it as absurd, a family living in ultimate luxury at the expense of the taxpayer, millions of whom struggle to put bread on the table, and all they have to do is going from place-to-place waving, shaking hands with people and being ‘patrons’ of various charities. And that’s pretty well it. As long as they kept their noses clean – and that is not a cryptic reference to drug-taking – the Great British Public bowed and doffed their caps, the royals would go on forever, unchanged by the passing years, a throwback to a golden time that never really happened. I’ve been of the view that it wasn’t worth me railing against the royals. I’m changing my mind now.

When the Queen dies, there needs to be a national debate about what happens next. Do we carry on as before, with a large, underemployed royal family, or do we pare it back and put most of them to work? After all, party organiser Al ‘You Can Call Me Boris’ Johnson boasts of hundreds of thousands of job vacancies. Surely within that number there must be something that even Andrew Windsor could manage? Perhaps he could serve pizzas given his associations with Pizza Express?

Next off the rank will be Prince Charles, described by the great Christopher Hitchens as a “slobbering, weak chinned dauphin of a son”. Whether or not Hitchens was correct in his definition of Chuck Windsor is neither here nor there. Either way, he is not respected in the way his mum is and I find it hard to imagine hordes of football fans belting out ‘God Save The King’ with similar gusto. Chuck can either seek to modernise – that is to say drastically cut back on the hangers-on and nonentities – or he can hope for the best. If he opts for the latter, it surely won’t work out well for him.

So for ‘Randy Andy’ it’s back to what the royals do best: shooting animals and getting paid vast sums of money for not doing anything. Poor little Queenie. Whatever it was she did over the years – stability in an unstable world is the best thing I can come up with – it was probably as good as it ever could be for Her Maj.