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BRIAN READE'S COLUMN: AN ODE TO THE ODIOUS.

Byline: BRIAN READE

AS the unofficial poet laureate it falls to me, once again, to put quill to paper.

Yes folks, my royal job description says I must chronicle not just the ups but the downs of life with the Windsors, if I am to be allowed to drive my sheep over Runcorn Bridge every Maunday Thursday.

And, sadly, as we all know, there is a new down. The on-the-rocks marriage of the Princess Royal and Tim Laurence.

Well, let's hope they can draw some hope and inspiration from my little ode:

Ditch mugs and tea-towels, start the wailing, another royal match is failing, This time it's Princess Anne and him, erm, wossisname, Tim-Nice-But-Dim

The chap who sewed, like first love Mark, his oats, in hay, at Gatcombe Park, a handsome, dashing commodore or is it gormless, crashing bore?

What goes with Anne and chinless wonders? Why does she make so many blunders? Why marry planks made out of teak, so dumb we never hear them speak?

Why do they sleep on separate decks, like the Earl and Countess of Worstsex? Why is their life not one big thriller like Tampax Charlie and Camilla?

Once you and Tim did Highland Flings, and other wild, equestrian things, but soon you ended all high jinks, and yelled: "Oi pleb, go fix the drinks."

But Tim, don't let it end like this, win back her heart, steal one more kiss, take to your roof-top, yell with force: A horse a horse, my kingdom for my horse.

CAPTION(S):

SPLIT: Anne and Tim
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Title Annotation:Features
Publication:The Mirror (London, England)
Date:Jul 5, 2001
Words:259
Previous Article:BRIAN READE'S COLUMN: UP THEIR OWN CLASS.
Next Article:BRIAN READE'S COLUMN: TRYING AGAIN.


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