Saturday, 8 September 2012




After  a meeting with Head of the Royal Pretend Soldiers Brigade, Brigadier General Sir Rupert Golightly-Jockstrap, (Eton, Sandhurst and the Chelsea VD Clinic,)  it was announced that the nation's favourite Prince, Prince Harry Knobhead, has agreed that in order to clean-up the mess left by his latest FuckTrip to LA, he has to start pretending again that he is actually a serving army officer, and not a pampered, idle playboy git, like the rest of his family.

The pretence must be maintained that His Grace, said the Brigadier, is mad keen to get his royal arse blown off by some raghead freedom fighter, that he is gagging for it, any opportunity to bounce up Everest on his arse or what's left of it, with some poor people, that's what is uppermost in His Excellency's mind. His brother?  No, I should jolly well think not.  His brother, Flight Lieutenant Gormlesss, the future king, is fully occupied rescuing commoners from the Irish Sea, when he is not unavoidably on holiday, that is, with Mrs Gormless, the former waitress.

Asked how much danger the popular young prince might find himself in, Brigardier Golightly-Jockstrap said, Not very much, hardly any, in fact, depends on how much we can mock-up in the studio and how the other young pilots co-operate.  I suppose that if we actually let him near the controls of an Apache  he might crash it, like his father would, or fall out of it  but that's not likely to happen, not without him being detoxed fully,  over about six months and  then being taught to fly the damned thing.  No, no,  there's generally someone down below the cockpit, actually operating the controls while Harry's up top, waving;  or we do it remotely.  Queen's grandson get killed in some MickyMouse war about oil?  I should Cocaine, I mean Co-Co.


Mike said...

Is that a Prince Albert he's wearing in that pic?

yardarm said...

Are we still slinging bombs out of Tiger Moths ? Barack O`Autocue has these drones flown by some herbert with an Xbox out of a bunker in Albaquerque or wherever the hell it is and whoever they kill, man, woman, camel or goat is automatically classified by the Pentagon as a terrorist. Death by definition. Surely you could wage war poolside in Vegas with that.

Anonymous said...

Those nice chaps over at Capitalists@Work have drawn the pleasing potenital similarities betwixt young ginger daft gimp to young Louis Napoleon and his (un)timely death in Zululand at the hands of the beastly tribesmen who were somewhat peeved at the random acts of barbaric sociocide inflicted on them in the name of imperial domination, trade routes, mining and general hegemony.

Now, sitting in the gun rig of a $20 million dollar helicopter may be somewhat distant from galavanting on an horse, even if it had been Pegasus himself, but sticky ends do seem to be more likely in Helmand than in the tough environs of a nightclub swimming pool - although the risk of verrucas shouldn't be diminished.


Erasmus said...

I have just come back from over there to find Mr Ishmael is back.
I hope he now stays fit and healthy for many years to come.

call me ishmael said...

Probably no more dangerous, mr dtp, than a Paris underpass.

Death by definition, that's about it Obamawise; I watched the good Murkins, speaking at his rally and wondered, How far can he be spreading the grease to get even that number of people onside, made me feel like a kid again, not knowing what on Earth was going on, that this was something grown-ups do, way over my head.

As for long distance war with no casualties, I guess we'll continue to see the flag draped caskets coming home; Stateside, they love all that stuff, those gay marines and GIs snap-folding Old Glory, right down into a neat triangle to hand to Mum or Wifey and here we love to read about blonde Widow, Karen being banged senseless by late hubby's entire platoon, just to show how much they loved him, really, like, knowaddamean, that's what mates do for one another. There was a programme in the Our War series last week about a platoon which lost it's officer to the Talimen in an ill-conceived and badly executed patrol in Helmand. Seems that on return half of them ran screaming from the army and the other half couldn't wait to get back out there, tooled-up, shooting Ahmed. We'd best find killing opportunities for these lads or they'll be forming up and killing us.

Thanks, mr erasmus.