we mean it, maaaam

oh fuck, comic bloody relief day today. for our non-uk readers, i should explain that comic relief is a telethon-type-charity-thing. you tend to get accosted by drooling idiots dressed as chickens, thrusting buckets of small change in your face, wherever you go. and if you don't empty the contents of your pockets into the buckets, hand over your car keys and deeds to your house, you're a wanker. some of the money will go to help children in need in the uk and around the world. though many a bellyful of beer and vegetable biryani has been funded by my excursions into the becostumed-collecting-faux-charity scene.*

i caught a passing tv left unattended last night, and observed that in the build-up to the great day, many celebrities are offering prizes which everyone can bid for, prizes which sometimes include the celebritites themselves. terry wogan, for example, is offering a round of golf with him as partner. in dubai or something.

i thought to myself, you don't hear much from elizabeth von windsor on these occasions. wouldn't it be great if she offered a day with her at the palace? you could try on her sparkly hat, ride around on the back of a corgi and beat a maid senseless with a riding crop. but oh no.

she doesn't even give anything. i don't suppose it's her money though. it's ours. what a ridiculous woman and family. let's tickle them all to death.**

* not really.
** is this treason?