Once Upon a Time...
...in a castle not too far away, 'singer' Peter Andre decided to wed his plastic 'princess'.
If you believe the media, you'll think that the wedding of Peter Andre and Jordan at Highclere Castle was *the* event of the weekend (unless you're like my aunt, who thought it was the wedding of two gay men, or Big Brother's Eugene who apparently turned down his invite and went to an amateur radio club meeting).
Obviously it wasn't - that accolade goes to the annual family BBQ, which once again lived up to expectations. People, you just can't beat the combination of good company, quality barbecued meat, premium lager and nice wine in abundance; though before you cast aspertions none of us was excessively intoxicated and a good time was had by all.
Given the amount of media hype however I feel that it'd be rude not to comment about the aforementioned wedding, even though I expect that you, like me, had far better things to do.
Jordan assured the BBC News page that the wedding would not be tacky, but you only have to have seen the pictures of the carriage in the tabloids to realise that 1) she lied or 2) she needs to look up 'tacky' in the dictionary. Honestly, the carriage just added to the sheer ostentatiousness of the whole affair and made me wonder what sort of point they were trying to prove. At the end of the day we're just talking about an Aussie with a waxed chest and someone with implants, and that won't change no matter how much more money than Princess Diana they spent or how many celebrity guests attended. I kid you not, it appears that many of the celebrities on the guest list claimed not even to know the couple. Respect must go to Eugene and the others who turned the invite down.
Thankfully The Sun reported the castle as being near Basingstoke, a town much more suited to such chavishness than Newbury. This means that Royal Berkshire residents such as me can relax safe in the knowledge that our town won't be tarnished, and the sole claim to fame will still be the Bypass.
If you believe the media, you'll think that the wedding of Peter Andre and Jordan at Highclere Castle was *the* event of the weekend (unless you're like my aunt, who thought it was the wedding of two gay men, or Big Brother's Eugene who apparently turned down his invite and went to an amateur radio club meeting).
Obviously it wasn't - that accolade goes to the annual family BBQ, which once again lived up to expectations. People, you just can't beat the combination of good company, quality barbecued meat, premium lager and nice wine in abundance; though before you cast aspertions none of us was excessively intoxicated and a good time was had by all.
Given the amount of media hype however I feel that it'd be rude not to comment about the aforementioned wedding, even though I expect that you, like me, had far better things to do.
Jordan assured the BBC News page that the wedding would not be tacky, but you only have to have seen the pictures of the carriage in the tabloids to realise that 1) she lied or 2) she needs to look up 'tacky' in the dictionary. Honestly, the carriage just added to the sheer ostentatiousness of the whole affair and made me wonder what sort of point they were trying to prove. At the end of the day we're just talking about an Aussie with a waxed chest and someone with implants, and that won't change no matter how much more money than Princess Diana they spent or how many celebrity guests attended. I kid you not, it appears that many of the celebrities on the guest list claimed not even to know the couple. Respect must go to Eugene and the others who turned the invite down.
Thankfully The Sun reported the castle as being near Basingstoke, a town much more suited to such chavishness than Newbury. This means that Royal Berkshire residents such as me can relax safe in the knowledge that our town won't be tarnished, and the sole claim to fame will still be the Bypass.
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