By Stanley Collymore

Going by what you braindead cunts in the tabloids along with your equally dim-witted pillock commenters have to say and would like for intelligent folk like myself, who can and do think for ourselves, to literally follow suit, I, according to what your evident supposition of effectively what I did this morning, and is essentially a routine habit of mine, recycled my underpants, after naturally first washing them of course. So stop all this fucking crap about Kate Middleton recycling, or whatever similarly fatuous term you choose to use, her outer garments or even her knickers, assuming of course that she wears any, since they quite naturally wouldn’t be seen, and since she can’t for decorum sake publicly show them so rags like the Daily Mail and semi-literate hacks can’t boast or fully pontificate about them, this vain woman more than likely chooses not to wear any!

This successful, social climbing stalker now side-lined by her husband and vilely using cancer as the excuse for them to publicly and unembarrasingly reshape their, in all meaningful respects, dead marriage: a full blown divorce, or the kind of dishonest relationship that for over three decades Liz and Philip conned their gullible sycophants with, about how devoted they were to each other, while living totally physical and also sexually separate lives except for the sickening, masquerading pretence during official public engagements of how ostensibly devoted they were to each other, like a present day Eamon Holmes and Ruth Langsford, while milking all the sympathy they can get, hence Kate’s six months disappearance and ebullient, belatedly tanned reappearance; absolutely completely at odds visibly, whatever lame excuses the gullible, discernibly sycophantic and evidently, clearly pathetic serfs choose to render up for what Kate has done, with someone unquestionably as well as characteristically, essentially in all respects, undergoing chemotherapy treatment. But that’s your problem not mine! Someone, who lives in the real world and doesn’t take things simply at face value; and don’t sublimate myself into thinking, let alone believing, that they are such things as birtright or very equally people that without any actually particularly outstanding intellectual acumen or notable achievements are effectively superior to me because they either have quite considerably less, or no noticeable melanin in their skin tone, or are ridiculously born “royal”.  When no such thing sensibly exists.

So I shall carry on sensibly wearing the clothes, which on account of my own pleasure or of necessity that I need, as and when it suits me; employing my own common sense on these matters and not being dictated to by the foibles of others. In the meantime, you lot out there can do whatever you like, allow yourselves to be controlled by the actions of those you worship, or quite literally go about completely naked as far as I am concerned!

(C) Stanley V. Collymore
22 June 2024.