The Queen’s New Year Greeting to her Subjects

Hello loyal subjects. It is the third of January and I want to give you a few tips for what lies ahead in 2015.

I have decided to reintroduce the gao-tao or kowtow as they used to call it. This means that whenever you see me you need to kneel and rub your nose on the floor.

I hear that three wise men brought gifts round about this time of year. Well I suggest you all get wise and bring me biscuits. None of this gold, frankincense and myrrh rubbish. Kangaroo is my favourite flavour.

I know many of you are dedicated followers of fashion. This year’s “in” colour is Pomeranian orange. I shall be wearing it all year and as my subjects I expect you to do the same.

Many of you have made new year’s resolutions to get fit and lose weight. Stuff and nonsense. What you all need is more sleep. Get yourself a nice comfortable basket, a few toys and just hunker down to some serious zzzzzzs.

You may be aware that I shall be expanding my empire in a few weeks. Its time that old woman gave up the job. Her son, the jug-eared one who talks to plants, has been waiting for yonks. Its time they were both put out to pasture. I intend to simply put it to the vote. A plebiscite. And there are plenty of plebs in Britain I am told. Simple choice, Lulu or Brenda. In keeping with the HK Basic Law you will only actually be allowed to vote for me. And also in keeping with the HK basic law poor people won’t get a vote. Far too dangerous. Dogmocracy will be introduced gradually and only when I think you are ready.

You will be delighted to know that I intend to have my head on the postage stamps in keeping with tradition. And I shall have enormous posters hanging everywhere with some of my most important utterances on them. This will be accompanied by a Little Orange Book containing the Thoughts of Queen Lulu.

If you stick with me you will barely notice as the world goes to Hades in a handbasket. I shall ensure you are all fully protected from the mad megalomaniacs, King John Umm, Valery Putain, Sheesh John Byng and Barking O’bama. You can keep all your biscuits in Lulu’s Bank and although I won’t pay interest on them I promise I won’t punt them on synthetic first-to-default derivatives. I may eat a few but that’s what you get for a flight to quality. Biscuit leakage.

That’s it for now but in response to popular demand here are a few photographs taken by Cecil Beaton. Remember him? His missus wrote a cookery book. Hello Cecil…..

Lulu1Wake me when the shoot is over.lulu2Did someone mention biscuits?Lulu3

Lulu’s log

Hello loyal subjects. Princess Lulu here. When the boss is away the house goes to rack and ruin. I needed an ice cream to hold me together.LuluShe is swanning around Seoul and he is floundering helplessly wondering what to do with all the gadgets she lovingly prepared for him. The only one that seems to interest him is the steam cleaner. Typical bloke. He pretends it is a steam train. To be honest I haven’t actually seen him do any housework yet unless you count washing the dishes. What a waste of space he is.

Still I get fed earlier by him. He was up and working at 7.30 this morning and the biscuit box was opened just after 8.00. It takes him forever to pack away my en suite, night-poo tray, second water fountain, change the blankets etc. He hasn’t a clue.

She was also up early but she went to some fun park as far as I can tell. So he works and she plays. I just supervise him. He has learned to respond to my bark pretty well. Its a sort of Pavlov’s Man experiment I am conducting. The difference is that I get the reward. Clearly I am smarter than he is but it will take him a while to catch on.

He sneaked out last night. Muttered something about needing to eat. I was not impressed. But he had been up since 5 am to drive the boss to the airport so I cut him a little slack. Tonight I hope he remembers that I like my supper at 8 pm, not 8.05pm. Standards must not drop. I also had to remind him that I get a 6 biscuit quota of Raw Boost before I turn in. I offered him one but he muttered something about me already having licked it. Picky, picky!!

Tomorrow I hope he is going to do something useful and include me. I get bored by his long conference calls. Yawn. If I try to ask him a question he puts the phone on mute and yells at me. All I want is to play for a while. All in all I have to say I shall be grateful when the boss gets back. Some semblance of order will return. I bet he runs around last minute cleaning the place and then pretending he has done it each day. What’s the reward for not ratting on him, I wonder? I’m sure I can show her where he has missed. I can lick all sorts of places he never goes.

Until she gets back I guess I shall have to soldier on. I don’t know. It’s a man’s life.