Ned, me and his shiny red pants ( I can’t get the promo for Chris Lilley’s Angry Boys out of my head when I think about these pants. Have you seen the black rapper singing the “Balls…balls” song on the ad?) made an appearance at Adrian and Kirsty’s Royal Wedding party on Friday night. The laptop played “Candle in the Wind” and Ned, ahem *ELTON*, hummed the words as we waltzed up the “red carpet” (I place this in inverted commas because I pretty sure the “carpet” was actually the red towel I was sent to bed with as a potential spew rag).
I must remember to get some photos from someone of the rest of the dignified guests - I seemed to have been more focused on hoovering alternate glasses of Pimm’s and champagne to take some of my own. Everyone looked fantastic; glittered and tiared up to the eyeballs. Kirsty kindly lent me her polka dotted wedding dress from 1983 complete with 28 year old booze stains down the front. Obviously a most treasured piece.

Alice found a royal drinking game on the internet with rules along the lines of: when you see the Queen, drink for England, when you see Prince Harry, make a Nazi salute, when you see Camilla, yell “TAMPON”! Needless to say, by the royal kiss we were all rather bleary-eyed - not only from the emotion of romance.

Ned and I slept under the house (much nicer and cosier than it sounds!) and I apparently rolled over during the night and said to Ned, “I’ve never been drunk at Cradle Mountain before.”

“Don’t you mean, in front of my parents?”

“No. Cradle Mountain.”

Oh what a night. Can’t wait till Coronation.