Built like a brick privvy, Mike Tindall is a big lad. He can take a knock or two on the rugby pitch. Facing the wife will be a different story. His insides will be curling like a woodlouse on a hot brick. Not happy.
Neither is his wife, the former Zara Phillips, daughter of that foul-mouthed stalwart of the Royal family Princess Anne. They tell it like it is, so he can expect no quarter when she decides to engage him on the subject of his nose and that girl's cleavage.
After all, she could have expected a bit more discipline, not to say devotion, after only six weeks of marriage. Other women's bosoms should be strictly off limits, at least for a couple of months or so. Old friend she may be, but what was he thinking of, burying his face in her front! We can guess. We wouldn't be far wrong.
That probably won't exercise Zara much. She knew what she was getting herself into. It's you Mike. All the old hands could have told him, Prince Philip, Snowdon, Mark Phillips even. Being a Royal add-on is always a pain. You get all of the unwanted attention, but nobody rates you much.
Keep the grappling to the pitch Mike. There's always someone close by with a camera. Or a phone. These days everyone is paparazzi. Get used to it pal - your life is not your own.
No comments:
Post a Comment