One of them there magic latern moving icons with that modern 'talkie' sound has just been released on Blu-Ray and DVD, and is the talk of the town.
Apparently. I must see "The King's Peach".
What care I for fruits of the monarchy? But harken - what be that aurality echoing through my sewer of a mindset? Is that Hugh Cornonthecobdownawell singing?
"Walking on the beaches, looking at the peaches!"
I thought this was all supposed to be about a bad stammer, not some majesterial cross-dressing royal lounging on blackpool beach in womens knickers with his arse in the air!
Comely, shapely, pretty princesses in thong style binkinini bottoms, all oiled up on hot sunny beaches, mayhap, or the firm bottom of Firm Bottom - but a boil-ridden blotchy behaired blokes bum bouncing out the screen in 3D? No thank you very much!
But maybe it's not posterior peaches the film's all about. Maybe it's one of them americanisms - you know like they call an arse a fanny, and us Engerlunders call a fishflange a fanny. Perhaps where bawdy brits call top-bollocks a nice pear (phwoar), them Americans call a pair of upper body pillows (with a well defined valley of kle'varj) a nice peach.
Ewww - The Kings Moobs! Hi-Def boobage jiggle as he runs in slo-mo down the beach. Watch out Pammy, here comes Colon Firth in a skimpy red mankini with his crown jewels all on display. *shudders* Why can't we get Hell, I'll-bone-her-Carter in the lead role and rename it The Queens Hooters?
Or even The Queens H( . Y . )ters*.
No wonder the king can't speak - he's too busy gawking at the sight of Ms Burtons bodice free busoms! He's all Bernard Bresslaw with the "Cor! Phwoar! Umph! I- a- g- Crikey! 'ere, Sid..." as Her Vadgesty cures King Sid of his oral trouble by giving his tongue some dextrous exercise.
Tonguing the tomato sauce off the baked bean, for instance.
Well, I think it's a national disgrace. I don't care how many Oscar The Grouch awards it won. I don't want to see a film about using menstrual cunnilingus to cure the lack of over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders on feminine royal types sans blouse!
Unless it's Kate Middleclass. Or that pantless bridesmade everyone keeps banging on about.
Or were they just banging a panting, pantless bridesmaid? I can't remember, they were drunk and telling me also of paternal Turkish Delight circumcision practices, of which I have already made previous mention.
But my drunken informer is Greek, just like Prince Philip Schofield, so they should know!
* OR H( . )( . )TERS IF YOU'RE NOT A FAN OF KLE'VARJ. IN FACT, ANY FORM OF TEXTITULAR REPRESENTATION OF NORKAGE IS ACCEPTABLE.
