Prince Andrew, or randy Andy as he was known in his hey-day, is not happy with the press. They keep asking him about his ex-wife Sarah and her wizard scheme to make half a million bucks out of him. Crikey, how desperate would you have to be to pay that kind of cash?
Trade ambassador Andy has earned millions for this country and his wife has spent about the same. Works in this house. Sarah was always keen to make a bob or two. But couldn't she just go for having her toes sucked instead of shoving her size sevens right into it?
Surely even she can see that nobody would happily pay £500,000 to chat to jowly Andy?
Didn't she smell something a bit dodgy somewhere? Seems not. Today Andy is visiting a Cambridge College and refusing to pose for pictures. The photographers will be devastated. They'll get over it and so will he.
Poor old Sarah is looking more and more like her old dad Ron Ferguson who also dropped the odd clanger or two. She's getting a bit porky for Weight Watchers. Maybe she'll have to resort to writing dreadful kids' books about helicopters. It's a hard life.
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