There was almost an air of relief as I sat in the pub over a pint and the subject of the royal shedding cropped up. For each and every person wanted to be in some place where it was not being shown on TV. A place where there were not brain dead loyalists who have no incling of an idea or reason for the costs of royalty to the nation. In both finance and the lives of ordinary citizens over the centuries. In a tradition which whiffs of the social class system and the derogatory view of anyone who does not fit a certain status. Then I get home, the telly is on, the news is in mid stream and guess what, yes, it's the blooming royal shedding again. I channel hopped, from one to the other, but it was that time of the evening where all channels have a news program and they all had a slot allocated to this hideous event.
Oh to climb into a hole and be devoured, just to avoid the belittling of the rest of society on this one day.
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