The "Complete Aristocrat"
a·ris·to·crat (
-r
s
t-kr
t
, rs-)
-rst-krt, rs-)n.
1. A member of a ruling class or of the nobility.
2. A person having the tastes, manners, or other characteristics of the aristocracy: a natural aristocrat who insists on the best accommodations.
3. A person who advocates government by an aristocracy.
4. One considered the best of its kind: the aristocrat of cars.
Well, let's see now. There are the qualifications, and it is abundantly clear - as the Duchess of York, otherwise known as red-haired Fergie of affecting style - considers herself a "complete aristocrat". She also avowed that she and Prince Andrew, fourth in line to the British Throne, were the "happiest divorced couple in the world". Perhaps not, however, at this very moment.
For Sarah Ferguson also described herself in an interview with News of the World on line, that she, poor thing, had not "a pot to piss in". Therefore, given her sterling connections to the royal house of Windsor - at least in some circles of that royal house - her entree gave her the impetus to barter access for cold, hard cash. Lots of it. She right royally pissed on the royal pot.
But oh dear, how utterly embarrassing. She lobbied in the most un-aristocratic manner to enrich herself because she is in dire financial straits. Most of us would be, if we lived incessantly beyond our means. At age fifty she hasn't learned - so it's highly unlikely she will at any later date - that she was privileged to join a discreet and proud royal house, in exchange for respect.
Respect clearly beyond her capabilities, she simply sullied her connection. Queen Elizabeth, her mother-in-law, once bemoaned a dreadful year, her "annus horribilus" of 1992, with the dissolution of two of her sons' marriages. This latest little contretemps was yet another gift from a common type to the Queen, a special for her birthday, Happy Birthday, dear grandmother of my two girls...!
Stung by an undercover reporter posing as a wealthy businessman she breezily revealed herself for an amazingly mendacious opportunist. For a mere $40,000 in cash with $718,500 to follow, an invitation to the Duke of York who acts as the country's special representative for international trade and investment could be handily arranged.
"Five hundred thousand pounds when you can, to me ... open doors. Then you open up all the channels whatever you need, whatever you want ... We can do so much." Surprise, surprise, Duchess. Your husband will be decidedly aggravated. Your reputation takes yet another bruising, and every bit of it well earned.
Sympathy may be difficult to find, despite the claim by a spokesperson that "She is devastated by the story, and deeply regrets the situation and any embarrassment it has caused". Indeed, it is deeply regrettable; one can visualize the woman banging her head in frustration on her lacy pillow.
Well, let's see now. There are the qualifications, and it is abundantly clear - as the Duchess of York, otherwise known as red-haired Fergie of affecting style - considers herself a "complete aristocrat". She also avowed that she and Prince Andrew, fourth in line to the British Throne, were the "happiest divorced couple in the world". Perhaps not, however, at this very moment.
For Sarah Ferguson also described herself in an interview with News of the World on line, that she, poor thing, had not "a pot to piss in". Therefore, given her sterling connections to the royal house of Windsor - at least in some circles of that royal house - her entree gave her the impetus to barter access for cold, hard cash. Lots of it. She right royally pissed on the royal pot.
But oh dear, how utterly embarrassing. She lobbied in the most un-aristocratic manner to enrich herself because she is in dire financial straits. Most of us would be, if we lived incessantly beyond our means. At age fifty she hasn't learned - so it's highly unlikely she will at any later date - that she was privileged to join a discreet and proud royal house, in exchange for respect.
Respect clearly beyond her capabilities, she simply sullied her connection. Queen Elizabeth, her mother-in-law, once bemoaned a dreadful year, her "annus horribilus" of 1992, with the dissolution of two of her sons' marriages. This latest little contretemps was yet another gift from a common type to the Queen, a special for her birthday, Happy Birthday, dear grandmother of my two girls...!
Stung by an undercover reporter posing as a wealthy businessman she breezily revealed herself for an amazingly mendacious opportunist. For a mere $40,000 in cash with $718,500 to follow, an invitation to the Duke of York who acts as the country's special representative for international trade and investment could be handily arranged.
"Five hundred thousand pounds when you can, to me ... open doors. Then you open up all the channels whatever you need, whatever you want ... We can do so much." Surprise, surprise, Duchess. Your husband will be decidedly aggravated. Your reputation takes yet another bruising, and every bit of it well earned.
Sympathy may be difficult to find, despite the claim by a spokesperson that "She is devastated by the story, and deeply regrets the situation and any embarrassment it has caused". Indeed, it is deeply regrettable; one can visualize the woman banging her head in frustration on her lacy pillow.
Labels: Human Relations, Values, Whoops
posted by Pieface @ 6:33 PM
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