Is Prince Harry going off the rails?
Prince Harry has been my favourite royal for many years. He has a devilish character, a lovely smile and a sense of humour that endears him to the majority of people in this country. His high-spirited kicks have raised some eyebrows in the past, namely his Las Vegas romp which was tacky and did not earn him much credit – yet it left his popularity undented.
However, his latest gaffe is far more serious than any of his previous escapades; it has already angered many of his most ardent admirers.
On what was supposed to be his triumphant return home, it turned out to be a public relations disaster. To start with, he talked about the killing fields in Afghanistan, a highly explosive subject likely to render him a possible target for the jihadists – and there are many of them in Britain. Then he followed it by a long list of complaints: the way other soldiers stared at him in the mess; the fact that no woman would wish to be his wife; and the media’s intrusion in his private life.
Out of the three complaints he fired, the last two stretch credibility to breaking point. Women flock to land him as a future husband and the media are given enough fodder to feature him in their columns. His lifestyle is the prompting factor of the so-called intrusion.
The thing that baffles me most is the inadequacy of the royal advisers who seem to get everything wrong these days. A case in point is their fluffing of the Duchess of Cambridge saga and her topless photos, which as a result of their stupid action gave the story a much greater prominence than it should have had.
As for Prince Harry, why did they allow him to give an interview which was ill-advised and ill-timed given the violent conflicts raging in some parts of the world, the latest example being the hostage calamity in Algeria that cost so many innocent lives?
His whinging is another matter since it does not affect his own security, but the rest does.
His advisers must now be fretting for this faux-pas, which puts additional pressure on those responsible for the prince’s protection.
Let’s hope Prince Harry will learn to keep some of his thoughts to himself and gracefully enjoy the privileges of being the most desirable young royal around. Most people would love to be in his shoes, so wake up Harry and count your blessings and stop talking gibberish. You would have me believe that the moon is made of green cheese.
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I was disappointed to read that Anna Wintour’s hopes of becoming the next American ambassador to Britain have been dashed.
President Obama has appointed instead Mr Matthew Barzun, who was National Finance chairman for the Obama re-election campaign.
The two rival candidates for the most coveted US foreign service appointment come from totally different backgrounds. Mr Barzun, a likeable fifty-two-year-old from Kentucky who made his fortune from a Californian tech-media website, served from 2009 to 2011 as Mr Obama’s ambassador to Sweden. Ms Wintour, sixty-three, who is British by birth but is now an American citizen, has reigned over US Vogue since 1988. Her famous mien labelled her as Nuclear Wintour and we are told she was the inspiration for the film The Devil Wears Prada, starring the formidable Meryl Streep in the title role.
What both candidates have in common is the prodigious fund-raising talent which helped bolster the finances of Obama’s election campaign.
Ms Wintour’s candidacy came to light at a dinner Mr Obama hosted for dozens of donors in November, when she made it clear to the president that she would be interested in the London ambassadorship which comes with a residence on twelve acres of land in Regent’s Park.
Contrary to the media’s perception of Anna’s demeanour as icy, I found her a warm and rather genial individual when she was in London editing British Vogue in 1986. I was then embarking on my first book, Women, and she was one of my early interviewees who went on to help me secure other women for inclusion in a tome of two hundred and eighty-nine participants.
I can never forget her kindness and her indispensable counsel, which went a long way to make my dream come true. She would have made a great ambassador with her ingenuity and charm and above all her uniqueness in the art of savoir faire.
All that is left for me now to say is dear Anna, you can count me as being one of your most devoted fans.
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Is the Shard a sexual odyssey?
A novel way to get sexual arousal is to climb to the sixty-eighth floor of the Shard building, lock yourself in the men’s lavatory which has a stunning view of London and bonk to your heart’s delight.
It seems height and a sensational view of the great metropolis is the latest craze likely to give your libido a wake-up call.
The Shard is the tallest building in Europe, rising to a height of one thousand and sixteen feet above the capital, and includes six hundred thousand square feet of offices, three floors of restaurants, a hotel and twenty luxury apartments costing up to £50 million each.
With a breathtaking view of London, it will open to the public on the 1st of February and the first two days are sold out at £24.95 for adults and £19.95 for children. They will be able to climb to the top of the building and experience the thrill of a panoramic view, the likes of which London has not seen before.
Early visitors to the Shard have apparently indulged in sexual activities in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, while enjoying the length and breadth of the view across London as a way of showing their appreciation to those responsible for the creation of this mammoth wonder building.
Shocked staff discovered a pair of skimpy knickers in the men’s toilets near the viewing platform located on the sixty-eighth floor. The black thong was found after a visit by an exclusive party, presumably made up of celebrities whose extra zeal must have led them to leave a memento of a more intimate nature. There are now fears that the public will as a result consider it fair game to be initiated in a new sexual pang that they believe the Shard will provide.
Who can say that the English are sexually dormant? It is a myth that has grown over the years simply because they do it without bragging about it. This is what one may call an outward sexual reserve that the English practice to perfection without batting an eye lid.
Our bonking mayor Boris, a man of many talents, will be delighted at this latest sexual phenomenon linked to heights and a stimulated view of his domain – promising to bring tourists in their droves, anxious to experience this rare sexual discovery to enthral the young as well as the old in equal measure.