To my lovelies out there in Dorset. The Guardian asked my views before I dropped my curtsey at Aldridge House, so this is what I told their correspondent…funnily enough, the old queen didn`t see fit to quote me…so here`s what I said.
Bloody awful place.
There are those who suck up under the baronial weald of the Clown Prince and do rather well under the patronage of his chinless lackeys who administer Toytown.
And there are those who don`t. They would not have been invited to last Thursday’s cringe fest and won`t dare speak out because the Duchy would give them the black spot.
It only has care homes, zimmer frame consultants and private health vanity projects for rich coffin dodgers-with assorted financial shysters and bored wives businesses like yurt insulation and personalised card sales for World Asparagus Day!
Just follow the fat and the sugar loaf mountains you get to the Duchy’s Fat flobbing Ice Bream Emporium that would have killed his mum long ago had Chaz slopped it into her tupperware box.
Clever old bird isn`t she?…bet he`s ladling it high for her now, seeing as his empty life is ebbing too.
NO -bloody awful place…gravel compulsory so they can hear the burglars and riff raff… Postmen hangng from lamp-posts as they fail to find the latest hucksta portakabin to deliver the death certificates. Matching doors, washing lines checked for form and angle before being allowed to be used by the serfs who think they`ve made it!
I call it Middle Farm, it`s not got a sign yet – so it`s staying that way until we remove the lachrymose spongebobs who squat over all life in the area. Like Milton Keynes but without the charm.
Disney land twin towers worth an air rifle anyway – it`d crumble with not much more.
Mind you – great dogging, traveller potential and a nice barbed wire to hang the spent condoms on if you can park at the local McDonalds.
Time to Pass the Duchy on the, hell, any side you like…but pass it and weep for its chintz and pretensions…crapola!
Alicia Sinclair
