Awoke at 5:45 to find my Wonder Woman watching a couple of Brits getting married. The last 15 minutes or so were more than I could stand. Probably the worst part was seeing the choral conductor’s really crappy conducting technique. Gagamaggot. The two guys double-teaming the service had to have taken advanced degrees in Boring Speech and then have been chosen from a field of the absolutely most accomplished bores on the planet. They really, really needed to have conscripted Peter Cook to be master of ceremonies or whatever…
The Impressive Clergyman: Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam…
OTOH, the sevenfold amen from the choristers was better than some I’ve heard, and the trumpets were very good.
I missed The Ancient Booer though. *sigh*
Hadn’t had my coffee yet, so the commenting by Mass MEdia Podpeople just washed over me without leaving any perceived toxic waste, just normal B.S.
Oh, and “15 minutes”? Wrong. I stuck around for the horses. Almost uniformly great conformation and nice gaits. Nice tires (tyres? *heh*) on the carriage.
Apart from that? Who frickin’ cares? Not my family or personal friends, so whatever comes of this “royal” wedding is no more important to me than the last one was, which is to say, not at all.
Bored now.
*heh* My Wonder Woman just told me that when the gal was having her ring slipped on, it looked like her finger had swollen or something because it seemed to get stuck for a second.
“Here, minion, run along and find me a woman who fits this ring. There’s a good minion.”
*heh*
Uh huh. Poor Billy had one heckuva struggle getting the ring to fit, but he was being far too delicate to begin with; sure sign of a virgin. Were it Harry facing the same dilemma he’d have spit on the thing then cranked it over those swollen knuckles.
Yes. The future Queen of England has Man-Hands.