Royal Buggers

I remember exactly where I was when I heard Diana had been in a car crash. I was waiting for a Chinese takeaway after a visit to a local nightclub, and I recall forgetting all about her as soon as I got my Egg Fried Rice. Then, when I woke the next day, I heard she was dead. I remember exactly what I was doing when I heard, too: eating a slice of toast smeared with Low Low margarine.

But enough about me. More important is the revelation, kind of, that she was getting bugged by the American Secret Service.

I don’t believe this for one instant, unless the American Secret Service contains a crack cadre of Hello! Magazine enthusiasts.

A more likely explanation is the fact that there are always conspiracy theories in the run-up to Christmas. This is also the work of the American Secret Service.

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