Queening.

Unfortunately for Elizabeth, the paparazzi caught her having a cheeky peek at Phillip's duke.

Here in England we seem to have a certain reverence for members of the older generation. Be it because they were in some war or something, or the fact that we just can't help but love a bag of wrinkles that pisses itself. And there is one old person that rises up above all the others. She is to geriatrics what Christ is to christians. She is the queen.

A woman (yes, a woman) held in such high regard that she has two birthdays a year. Two birthdays. Given that our birthdays are the only day we look forward to in our miserable struggle through endless days of the routine of wash, work, wank this is a pretty big deal.

You see, I wouldn't mind so much if she actually served a purpose. There was a time (I know this to be true because I've seen it in those Hollywoods films) when kings and queens kicked arse. I mean really kicked arse. Take Henry VIII for example. He spent his entire reign being a complete and utter bastard. Ironically, we Brits remain more proud of those days, when a king could chop a womans head off just because she didn't cook his veal properly (a perfectly justified reaction) than our standard of Britishness today. Therefore I'd like to suggest a direct correlation between the bastardedness of royalty to the sheer awesomeness of Britain.

Despite the clothes being extremely distasteful, what you see here is the image of a perfect man.

But alas, apart from being the subject of a woefully depressing film starring another old woman who cries a lot all the queen is now good for is waving. How have we let this happen? How, in the space of 499 years can you go from being able to kill people for fun, to having pretty much the same purpose as one of those big thumbs you get at the ball games?

The trouble is, this whole idea of having royalty is so outdated. It's a great idea if she has the power to kill at will, but in this day and age she probably has to ask permission to fart. And what happens if there's no one around to ask? Will the methane build up inside her until the pressure is too much and she explodes, covering the throne with queeny goodness? At the end of the day, all she's good for providing entertainment for Japanese tourists.

Despite so much resentment for the old girl, I would still love to sit down and have a quick chat with her, probably over a selection of gay foodstuffs such as caviar and horse testicles. Subjects I'd love to cover would include what she does with all that free time, (my wild imagination leads me to believe she runs a part time porn industry, with Prince Charles dressed up in a gimp suit, and doing all the paperwork. Yeah yeah, I know I've got issues.) what she honestly thinks of poor people, and whether her toilet is golden, and if this therefore means that whenever she pops off for a piss, if she is having what is commonly known as a "golden shower".