The Royal Family has chosen this year’s Christmas card - a photograph taken at the wedding of Charles and Camilla, featuring the lucky couple and their respective off-spring.
We here at the Clubhouse would like to postulate on what the subjects were thinking while the photograph was being snapped. Go ahead; click on the thumbnail for a larger teeth. I mean photo! Photo. I can’t believe I said teeth. So silly.
Harry: My teeth are straight, I’m nearly six feet tall, I have a semi-normal complexion, and so far, the only dirt they’ve got on me is a few pounds of geef and an incident with a swastika. I’ve fuckin’ dodged more bullets than an Iraqi with a backpack.
William: Bloody hell. Who would have thought that squirt would have pulled ahead of me? I used to be the one swimming in poorly-written love letters from frumpy American girls. But now, with every year that goes by, I look more and more like Chuckles here. Quick! Someone find me my speedo. I’ll show the masses I’ve still got it.
Chuckles: If you prop her up next to a starving Malaysian child and tell her to chat about landmines, and then squint your eyes reeeeeeallly hard, I swear to Christ you can’t tell the difference. It’s the halitosis that’s impossible to mask…
Cammy: Pretty, pretty bride. This one’s going to be the Christmas card. I can just feel it. Nothing says “Merry Christmas” like wrapping yourself in the wallpaper of Windsor Castle and allowing a partridge to nest in your hair.
Laura Parker Bowles: If I stand just right, this atrocity on my head might look like a wall decoration. But being in the same room as Charlie’s sons is like every girl’s dream come true! And when I manage to seduce William, it will be so Dangerous Liaisons I can’t even stand it. They still need a babysitter, right?
Tom Parker Bowles: Don’t you want a Fanta Fanta. Don’t you want a Fanta Fanta. Don’t you want a Fanta Fanta.
