Kate, Kate, Kate. Okay, she’s a “style icon,” I buy that. And for a Brit her teeth are fantastic! And she’s obviously a regular at the brow bar. But. Does she have a twenty inch waist? I think not.
Much has been made of my obsession with my figure. They called me obsessive. Vain. At times they said I was clearly mad, thinking that I imagined drowning in a vat of hog lard when I refused to eat the ridiculously lavish blood sausage and biscuit meals they put before me at the Hof.
So what if I preferred to bring my own livestock when I went on holiday? You can never be too careful what with cholera and mad cow and the like.
I just hope that when Kate Middleton becomes Mrs. Crown Prince, she intends to accessorize with more than a mere suntan and wide-brimmed hat. There, I said it. Now I must roast in hell.