Royal Willies and boobies.

I am excited. The royal wedding is here. The bloody ROYAL wedding! Can you believe it? Hands up who thought old Waity Katie wasn't going to last the distance? I, for one, thought she might've just finished with an 'I ran in the race' sticker while some Brazilian model swept past her on the home straight. But she's surprised me and now here we are, waiting to see whose gown she'll be wearing and how her hair will look.

Reading the super-special souvenir liftout in the Herald Sun today (it was my Dad's copy, just lying on the table) I read an article that left my cheeks a-blush. Apparently, Prince Willy dumped Katie a couple of times on the way to their fairytale ending at the altar. Fair enough. But did you know that he was photographed with his hand on some young lady's boobie? Since the Herald Sun is such a reputable source of truth and accuracy it must've happened. I could not believe Willy was feeling girls up in a dimly-lit club. He must have a bit of Australian in his background. Somehow I doubt we'd be in this position today if Katie, I mean Katherine, had been yanking some bloke's todger in a bar. No siree! The double standards!

She's come a long way since this abomination hasn't she? Thank goodness. It looks like something you'd find for sale in Bras n Things with the tacky Playboy merchandise. Perhaps this was the dress that unleashed the Prince's boobie-grabbing addiction? We shall never know.

What I do know is I'll be watching the event tonight with my girlfriends. I'm going to pick up the commemorative tin of cookies from Target on the way. They should be top quality. Perhaps they come with a free copy of the Herald Sun?

Until tomorrow, as husband and wife xx