Dear Diary, well one just doesn't know about this latest Royal Wedding. Quite frankly I'm getting rather tired of all of this fuss everytime one of the 'little tykes' gets married.
Sometimes I wish they would just 'elope' and maybe go to Vegas and get married in a little chapel in a ceremony delivered by an Elvis impersonator.
This Mike Tindall chap looks more like a boxer than a Rugby player and oh my! Those teeth. I hope he doesn't actually smile with his mouth open on any of the wedding photographs.
Well, Zara seems to love him, though what she sees in him is beyond ME.
I just hope and pray that Philip has his 'gas' problem sorted out on the day. I'll make sure to be standing 'up wind' of him...or is it 'down wind'. Whatever.
Well I must go and get ready for yet anoth...