You know those people on ArseWipeBook – you know, the place where friends and foe-who-pretend-to-be-friends say things like, ‘I’m in an AWFUL tizz. I just don’t know WHAT to wear to Elton’s do tonight. Yelp!’ at which point we, reader-cum-friend, think, ‘Wow, this person must be very popular and interesting, with a cock the size of a wasabi pea.’ Or somesuch.
Similar types have been harpin’ on *plucks a harp* about Glastonbury. In years gone by, and indeed up until this very moment we’re in right now, we would roll our eyes in a not unattractive manner and think, ‘Losers. Tents, wetwipes, crowds where straights tip the balance, more wetwipes… No.’
Until this very moment we’re in right now. The one where we find out that Prince Charles is at Glastonbury. That’s what they say, don’t they? ‘At’ Glastonbury.
He’s there to celebrate At Glastonbury’s 40th birthday. We’re not sure if he’s putting on a show, but when an animated Australian steward who approached him (he didn’t even flinch. Now that’s professionalism) said, ‘Hello mate [oh, how cliché], I’m Nick from Australia. I’m working at the festival,’ the PoW (Prince of Wales) responded, ‘I would never have guessed. I hope you have a permit to work over here.’
He’s a prince, he’s a comedy genius, and he’s here all night.
And we love how he tucks his tie into his trousers.
*puts on patronising American accent* Isn’t he the cutest!
ps. The woman on the left, taking the picture, yellow wristband, sunglasses, bum-bag/fanny-pack… Is it Madonna?