Victoria Regina, Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Lord of All Dominions Beyond Scunthorpe in North Lincolnshire on the Appleby Frodingham Railway, Empress of Indiana, and Purchaser of Discount Teabags was Queen of the World from 1837 until 1901. Her impact on the nation of Great Britain was so great that her enormous bulk forced every man, woman and child to eventually flee England forever in fear of being smothered under her massive, crushing weight. Victoria also wanted everything be named after her, a feat she managed to achieve until the era of politically correct, post-colonialism removed most of this personal legacy from Google Earth.
We are born
Victoria was born in 1819. Her father was officially listed as Edward, Duke of Kent, one of the more objectionable sons (in a competitive field) of King George III, and her mother Viktoria Valkyrie from Germany who was dimmer than a Hessian cow. Both parents were surprised they had produced anything between them except moody silences and broken tea pots in the past nine months.
Young Vicky's childhood was a sad affair. Her father died when he was a young, something Edward felt was necessary in order to avoid spoiling his child as she grew up. Her mother found her daughter to be repulsive, needy, and almost entirely computer-illiterate. However, seeing that the Royal coffers were tied to the child, the dowdy Duchess nevertheless deigned to interact with Victoria while she was in her Royal cage. The two spent many hours together, highlighted her mother's throwing bananas to her daughter as she swung from tree limb to tree limb. Victoria was growing up to be a modern lady, good with her hands and prehensile feet.
We are sat upon the throne
In 1837, her Uncle King William IV (the Drama Queen of the British Empire) died when he had 'overdone it' with some old sailors in raucous a sea-shanty singing competition. Victoria was now allowed to ascend the throne once her mother assured everyone the new queen was thoroughly toilet trained for the task. The contemporary diarist Sir Cringing Grovel records the scene in his unexpurgated diary entry:-
...the new queen entered the crowded room in her bath robe. Victoria was Regina De Facto but not yet Regina de Jure and so though everyone one present bowed their heads as a sign of good breeding, we did not yet owe this young princess anything more. In the corner of the chamber was the Royal Convenience but for this most sacred of acts, there could be no curtains for modesty. The lid was still open, a sign that it's last occupant had been a man. Victoria wiped the seat with a silk handkerchief, faced the audience and pulled down her undergarment to sit on the vacant throne...for what seemed to be hours but must have been just a few seconds, a short, shrill fart was heard and then a plop....a chamber orchestra than struck up Regina Vivat...Regina Vivat...England had a new Queen. The chain was pulled and we went down on one knee to pledge allegiance to her majesty. It was the happiest day of my life..and we got a thimble of the water...
From this first performance, Victoria discovered that she, too, loved the throne and would enjoy her time in there, making various noises, ascending or descending the scale as the royal bowels settled into their new home. It entertained her greatly and Victoria would often leave important receptions to spend time in her privy closet alone, her royal bottom fine polishing the ancient oak rim.
We find love in the arms of the Hun
Unable to find a man suitable for her in the British Empire, Victoria's ministers were dispatched to Germany, where they discovered her cousin, His Highness Francis Charles Augustus Albert Emmanuel, Prince of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Duke of Saxony, Count of Numbers and Baron of Fleas. He didn't look much but they were allowed to sneak a peek as Albert (his preferred user name) relieved himself in a borrowed chamber pot. The ministers compared notes and diagrams. Albert didn't seem much but they had been impressed by what they had witnessed on active display.
Encouraging Victoria to marry her cousin Albert were frowned upon in case a couple produced a clutch of congenital idiots (what was also called the Curse of the Habsburgs in more knowledgeable royal genealogical circles) but Victoria's ministers decided to recommend the match if it meant getting the queen off their collective backs. They knew if they sold Albert to Victoria as "the man with something extra," there would be a few knighthoods and peerages in it for all of them .
Albert arrived in Britain a few months later and turned up at Windsor castle to prove his princely credentials. When Queen Victoria entered the royal throne room to meet her 'applicant-supplicant husband', Albert in the typical, direct German manner unbuttoned his trousers, placed his blue-blooded penis in her hand and then slipped its ring around the Queen's finger. The two were now legally joined as man and wife. Victoria would write later in her diary: ..it was thicker than a German sausage. I had never imagined a prince like Albert could restrain such a beast within his pantaloons. We were impressed and pleased that night and many more after..
The pudgy Victoria would periodically emerge from the throne room to venture out with her Albert. Though the young Queen was sure that people were looking at her and admiring her handsome husband, she was unaware that the common people were unaccustomed to seeing an aristocratic lady such as their Queen walking about while holding her husband's penis. But Victoria kept a firm grip on her man, and never removed his ring from her finger while he was alive.
This is not to say that the Queen and Albert failed to enjoy their sexual relations. Neither had time for any other lovers and spent the next 20 years in the Royal four poster bed or on their unique twin thrones (Victoria had insisted that she and Albert would eat, rest, sleep and shit together). That they had time for anything else is all the more surprising, nine children also managed to crawl out of the grinding mattress during this busy reign. Victoria was loved by the British because she looked like them, fat and dumpy but the locals never warmed to Prince Albert. He just seemed aloof, efficient and foreign and his Christmas tree smuggling activities were thought a ruse to bring in more Germans into Britain.
To be fair to Prince Albert, he did take to some British culture that did appeal to him. He was an eager volunteer for Pantomimes, especially when it came to parts requiring a dress to impress at certain clubs in East London. Albert also took a fancy to Scotland it seemed a nice place, even nicer now that the locals had been cleared off the land for supporting the Rant Rebellion of Mel Gibson against the Jewish domination of the Highland Games. Victoria and Albert celebrated the new wilderness around them by building a fake castle called Balmoral with up to date 19th century plumbing.
We are appalled
The spring of lust that had carried Victoria and Albert so far turned into a summer of faking pleasure in their marriage. Albert remained leaner than a shaved German pointer but Victoria's constant pregnancies had turned her body's curves into a collapsed jelly trifle. Bertie was thinking of wearing his ring again in the place it was meant to be.
By 1861, Prince Albert had worn himself out. He had enough of Her Royal Corpulence's constant hovering, nagging, and menu-planning. To get away from Victoria, the Prince Consort left his seat lid in the up position and hide in the men's room reserved for royal dukes and above. Albert was going to hide in there or he could just die and be done with it. He nobly chose death, and selected a very nice strain of typhoid fever to do the job for him. In Albert's fevered state of mind, he said that the typhoid was a bit harsh, yet boldly promising and coy in its progress. He asked the Queen to tip the royal steward well, bade his wife a "toodoodleydoo" and died, dead away. His last wish that Victoria return his cock ring was left off the final codicil and she kept it on for the rest of her long, fattening life.
This was fine enough for His Highness Francis Charles Augustus Albert Emmanuel Oh to Hell with all that, lets just call him Albert; anyway Albert didn't have to deal with Her Majesty's grief. (Tragically, his remains were laid to rest in a can of tobacco, a move that engendered one of the most overused jokes in human history when a chicken mistakenly attempted to cross a nearby road, apparently in order to get to the other side of the can.) But it was bloody Hell for those who were left behind to clean up the mess.
We ask, what is this Bloody Hell?
Well what do you bloody think it means?
After her husband's death, the Queen locked herself in the loo for ten years, during which all she did was weep uncontrollably. Never mind anyone else's personal needs; no, it was all about her, her pain, her misery, her recipe for Chicken Tikka Masala. She could have cried in her boudoir, or in any of the castle's other 700 rooms, but oh, noooooo. She had to sit in the only bloody bathroom in the whole place, sobbing. Things got really tense after the groundskeepers informed the Prime Minister that they had cut every tree in Sherwood Forest down to make tissues for Her Majesty's sake. Interestingly, she survived without ordering any food into the loo.
We are not amused
When she finally did emerge from the loo, a different Victoria appeared — a much larger one. Some historians estimate that her overall body mass increased by as much as 350 percent during this period. Summoning her Prime Minster William Gladstone and other Prime Numbers, Victoria set about making laws that would bring order to the world around her, and pepperoni pizza to the front door on a regular basis.
First, Victoria outlawed good taste. She then decreed that from 1871 onward the world would be a place of bizarre buildings built of coal, strange concepts, inexplicable cultural eccentricities and poodles. For example, she decreed that it was "OK" to wear stripes and plaids together, but outlawed the wearing of polka dots while polka dancing. Victoria also imposed a law forbidding manicures to take place after tea, and made it a capital offense to write decent poetry. In 1876, the queen outlawed toothbrushes for her citizens and Dentistry as a course of study and as a field of professional practice. Victoria also outlawed the 19th Century and decreed that the Victorian Era - her era - had begun.
No one was safe from the Queen's befowled mood swings. Children - once a source of pleasant distraction - no longer brought her any joy. So Victoria consigned them to work in factories, but only after the factories had been dirtied up a bit with soot and rubbish and the safety-guards had been removed from the machinery.
After Victoria outlawed vaginas (see supra), her advisors informed her that the men of Britain had begun humping each other in droves due to the lack of vaginal orifices, which left them with a lot of "idle time." In response, Victoria banned homosexuality. When she discovered that they were talking about the situation in hushed whispers, the Queen banned Gaelic. When she discovered that they were still doing it behind closed doors, Victoria banned doors. When she was informed later that they were now doing it behind bushes, Victoria called for the deshrubbing of the English homeland. Tired of these demands, Victoria just up and outlawed men. "Oh, what a cathartic release that must have been," commented Oscar Wilde upon hearing the news. In a separate action she outlawed Wilde, not because he was a raving homosexual, but because he was snippy and Irish as well.
When asked about the possibility of rampant lesbianism and girl-crushes the Queen replied that Ladies would never stoop to such levels. But, just to be on the safe side, she outlawed liquor because it sounded dirty.
We have a Secret
Hoping to escape herself in the fall of 1882, Queen Victoria traveled to Scotland, where most people went upon their escape from something. To her dismay, the Queen not only discovered that the Scots could not be understood by civilized people, but that the men in Scotland had found a loophole in her "No Boys Allowed" rule by wearing traditional kilts.
Amongst those who had cleverly sidestepped the rule was a brawny lad of some sixty years, whose physical strength and kind, compassionate eyes reminded her of her long departed Albert. Victoria took Mr John 'Jock' Brown (the British version of Mr. Smith) into her confidence, and in return, Mr. Brown was allowed to service her majesty's "majesty." This was no small task. By this time, the Queen was using yacht sails as underwear. Yet for this brawny laddie in a skirt, this was no obstacle. Since knowledge of their intimacies might have sparked a rebellion, Victoria kept the relationship a secret, revealing details of their steamy liaisons only on her MySpace and LiveJournal pages. She also began to fancy circus tents as undergarments as well. Mr. Brown was noted as once saying that he "had a lassie with a crotchless big top." No one took him seriously, as like all Scots he was born with two hollow legs for boozing and lie like dogs in front of a fire. Still, he seemed happiest when he was fresh from a visit to the "fishmonger," as he had affectionately nicknamed the Queen's quinny.
Unfortunately, the relationship ended one night when Mr. Brown was crushed under the immense weight of the Queen. For the second time she disappeared into the loo for another ten years of pitiful sobbing and painful eliminations.
We have the vapors
By 1900, Victoria had become so much larger in real life than anyone thought possible, it became apparent that the Queen was about to flatten all of England. She had eaten all of the cattle, pigs, horses, and migratory birds – snout to tail - in the British Isles. She even got a whale down her gullet, but struggled with indigestion for days.
Despondent over the past, the melancholy Queen died peacefully in her sleep, leaving her morose homeland ravaged and open to resettlement by the lot of ash sweepers, barmaids, and soccer hooligans who occupy it today.
She passed silently into death's grip, leaving behind a truck-load of kids who needed fresh milk, but were deprived due to her absence from the universe.
We are a funeral
Victoria's death allowed her eldest son King Edward VII to discard his potato disguise and climb up onto the throne and enjoy his inheritance. He had taken this extreme action to avoid becoming part of the queen's gargantuan diet as Victoria just could not abide spuds as she associated them with Ireland, treason and revolution. Following his coronation, Edward conferred a crown on his loyal tuber.
The funeral for Queen Victoria was a grand affair, many Kings, Queens, Jacks and a few Deuces turned out to pay their respects. They were also offered a slice 'off the back' from Victoria's body so that everyone could carry away a little bit of the grand old queen back to whatever hole they had crawled out of to attend. The poor were told to finish off what was left and then thrown in the Thames to mark the formal end of the reign of the Queen.
We Shall See Also
- Victoria, capital of Melbourne
- Queen Victoria in wrestling
- Pretending to be Scottish
|Barmy British Stuff|