I’m no royalist, but you have to hand it to Her Maj.
While horrifying events made it a Junus horribilis for the nation, oor Lizzie’s had a stoater of a month.
While once-sainted Theresa May’s reputation has been grievously injured – probably terminally – by a succession of wrong decisions and embarrassing public appearances, HRH has been on a ratings-rocketing, sure-footed roll.
Shortly after the PM nipped in for a quick confab with the emergency services at Grenfell Tower – ignoring the devastated families all around – the Queen was in a rescue centre talking to survivors.
Having sacked the advisers who urged her to go for the snap election, Tezza should now boot oot her new lot.
Mrs Birse (as she’s known to the WRI wifies in Ballater) was sans Phil at the State Opening of Parliament, thanks to his recurrence of an infection (My spies tell me standing freezing by the Thames during that interminable Diamond Jubilee river pageant played havoc with his kidneys).
However, with her loon Chazzer in tow, HRH played a blinder – not so much as a titter during the policy-challenged Queen’s Speech.
Instead of the heavyweight crown, oor sovereign sported a stunning blue and gold hat which looked for all the world like she’d slung the EU flag roon her napper.
Speak aboot an oh-so-subtle, but oh-so-effective naughty gesture to the Brexiteers. Nae wonder Lizzie’s a Remainer.
With her German, Saxe-Coburg-Gotha roots, she might soon find herself having to apply to stay in the UK.
Then she happy-and-gloriously bestowed a knighthood on The Big Yin in her Birthday Honours.
Apparently she’s been a fan since Connolly’s “bum-stickin’-oot” joke on Parkinson, when she laughed so much
she near tiddled hersellie.
What better way for the monarch to muster the Scottish ranks against Nippy Sweetie Sturgeon’s IndyRef2 than to honour their favourite comedian? Nice one, Mrs B. However, there’s aye a somethin’…
This week, the anti-Royalists have mair than enough grist to their mills with news the Crown Estates have racked up profits by £24 million, giving her a pay rise of 8% – a cool £6m.
We’ll all have a magic money tree like that, please. Boy, that coffee shoppie at Balmoral must be goin’ its dinger.
Meanwhile, the Windsors’ travel last year cost us £4.5m. Andy must have air miles to the moon and back. First class.
The royal bill included nearly £17,000 for Her Maj hiring a private jet from Aberdeen to London.
Listen, quine, in the interests of good PR, why don’t you just go BA, even though you now have to shell oot for yer sandwiches?
Better still, try cheap-as-chips Easy Jet to Gatwick. Just remember to take your passport for ID.
Departure of soap chief is no big loss
No surprise so many folk are celebrating the departure of the BBC’s EastEnders’ boss Sean O’Connor.
Hands up, I confess to being a bit of a soap addict, because my mum and I always watched Corrie – and I once had a major crush on Dirty Den.
While The Street strides on with brilliant cliff-hangers, the Enders’ has been stuck for months in meaningless twaddle.
Denise near starving hersellie senseless, the superbly talented Bonnie Langford wasted as a needy mum.
And don’t even get me started on the “comedy” of the deeply unfunny Kim.
So many second-rate storylines.
Little wonder they ended up at the recent Soap awards as the TailEnders.
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