Hail Britannia, Britannia rules the waves. Britons never ever ever will be slaves
O’ Allo there good chap! Sit down over there and straighten your petticoat right nicely. Do you take sugar in your tea? Clotted cream? No? Righto then. You don’t ‘ave to be a bloody wanker about it. ‘Ave a listen to some music while you read if you please.
I am often told that I look like Prince William. People have approached me in coffee shops and restaurants and, I kid you not, asked me if I’m the rightful heir to the Bristish throne. I usually put my finger over my lips as if to make a “shhh” sound. I softly grab the person by the jacket fold and draw them near. In my best British accent I say something like, “I’m glad to ‘ave the pleasure of your acquaintance, but if I may ask, I’d like to keep my stay ‘ere in the States out of the tabbies.” (“tabbies” is my made up British word for tabloids) This usually draws a smile and wink. If the person is shy, they tip toe away from me while making eye contact, as though I am a live bomb which senses motion and could blow at any moment. If they are not shy, I will have to autograph a napkin and make small chat about my brother Harry before the adoring fan scampers off.
Lies. All of it. But here’s a British ship to make up for it:
Man the cutty sails, you yellow-toothed BBC lover
Sorry. Like every good post on this blog, I’ve penned an opening paragraph of lies to win your admiration. I have (scout’s honor) actaully been asked if I am the prince. Sadly, I have never taken my game all the way to impersonation. Perhaps I would try if I could convince a friend to follow me in a black suit with an earpiece. No one has taken the offer yet.
While not always confused for the prince himself, I am told, on a weekly basis, of our uncanny likeness. I thought it a jolly good idea to do two things on the blog to commemorate this aspect of my life. Firstly, I’d like to announce the great joy I derive from strangers (most of them middle-aged mothers) telling me I look like Prince William in front of my roommate Don. Compliments are nice, but compliments in front of friends with whom you compete in everything are that much nicer. Each “Prince William” I get when Don is in earshot is like a spiky shard of my spiky hair piercing his envious heart.
Secondly, I would like to play a game where I list a few quotes, and let you guess whether William, Prince of Wales, or William, Prince of Nothing coined them. If we look so similar, after all, maybe we are separated brothers with shared personalities and I am entitled to half of the Bristish Royal fortune? Yes, yes I think that is right. No peeking at the answers.
- “I hope I’m not a tourist attraction – I’m sure that they come here really because St. Andrews is just amazing, a beautiful place.”
- “Greasing, lubing? Greasing and lubing?”
- “I just want to go to university and have fun – I want to be an ordinary student. I’m only going to university. It’s not like I’m getting married – though that’s what it feels like sometimes.”
- “I don’t wanna study for my quals.”
- “Dig if you will the picture
Of you and I engaged in a kiss
The sweat of your body covers me
Can you my darling
Can you picture this?
- “I’m always open for people saying I’m wrong because most of the time I am.”
1. William, Prince of Wales 2. William, Prince of Nothing 3. William, Prince of Wales 4. William, Prince of Nothing 5. Trick question! The artist formerly known as the artist formerly known as Prince but now just called Prince 6. William, Prince of Wales (this one was easy because I am never wrong)