11 Steps To Crashing a Royal Wedding

With the recent announcement of the engagement of Prince William and Kate Middleton, many entry-level royal observers have been abuzz with gossip about this event. "Surely the clothes will be fantastic?" they gush. "Every word I read about the royals salves my soul, like my love salves the bodies of all these neglected cats I find." These amateur royal watchers are wretched, awful people, and I maintain that any attempt to lure one into an incinerator with a Hello! magazine should be regarded as an act of compassion.

More advanced royal watchers dismiss these trivial concerns, and are instead busy exchanging plans for how to score an invitation to this rare event. As we speak, "How to build a hollowed-out pew and conceal yourself in St. Paul's Cathedral" is one of Google's trending topics, or will be shortly after I publish this column.

But only the most thoughtful, pipe-smoking watchers of the royal family understand the real point of interest this royal wedding raises: "How am I going to get kicked out of This Shit?" Indeed, once you've reached a certain level of sophistication, mainstream interests like motorcycle parts and upskirt photographs no longer hold any particular fascination. The only thing which can titillate the soul is an elaborate plan which results in a madcap flight from halberd wielding honor guards.

Because I take my responsibility to sophisticates very seriously, I've compiled the following list of instructions on how to ruin the royal wedding and posted them here, an act I hope won't start off a sequence of events which ends with me in prison.

The first, almost trivially easy step to this plan is, of course, how to get invited to the wedding in the first place. Due to the elementary nature of this advice I hesitate to even include it, for fear of offending you to the point that your monocle falls out. But, in the event that some simple-minded folk with an Apple computer gains access to this Inter-net and stumbles across this advice, I have decided to summarize this basic step, so that they not feel completely at sea.

#11. Gaining an Invitation

Gaining an invitation is simple: Send a letter on extremely nice paper to the queen. The text of your letter should explain that you, the Viscount of Torpor, fourth in line for the Throne of Siam, wish to pay your respects to the young couple. The queen is impossibly old, and has no wherewithal to check any of this. To establish your bona fides, enclose a picture of yourself wearing some form of regalia, offering a thumbs up.

Getting this missive to the queen is simple. From any Commonwealth nation, obtain a stamp with the Queen's picture on it, and place that in the center of the envelope, where the mailing address would go. The post office will figure out the rest. You will receive your invitation in the mail four to six days later.

Once you're in, play it cool, so as not to get ejected immediately. Like a clock burglar, getting kicked out of a royal wedding takes time. At minimum, you should be using this opportunity to enjoy the tiny little sandwiches which will be carried around on trays and which will be fantastic.

#10. The Delicate Matter of Gifts

First make sure to "forget" to bring a gift for the new couple -- a caddish error, but one not likely to get you kicked out. When you reach the gift table, make a big show of pretending you forgot your gift, which you shall claim was "a really nice bowl, or something." Then make a bigger show of looking for something on your person that can serve as a gift. My personal favorite suggestion is to wear a pair of suspenders, which you can remove, and concoct an obviously false story about these being a rare Siamese heirloom as you deposit them guiltily on the gift table, clutching the waistband of your pants with your off hand.

#9. Mingling

Make sure to talk to lots of people while you're there, to ingratiate yourself somewhat and minimize the odds of being spotted as the dangerous loner you surely are. Also, this will ensure that when you do get kicked out, everyone will have a great story to tell of their brush with legend. When speaking, don't bother to feign a Siamese accent -- simply claim you were educated abroad. In Australia. Use the most put-on Australian accent you can. (If you're Australian, use the same story, but make it a school for the deaf, and use sign language.) Speak at great lengths about your studies of the immigrant prostitute subculture of Sydney. Use body language and vigorous hand gestures to communicate your passion for the subject.

"If their penis is only this big, can you even call them a transsexual? I'd say at least 90 percent female. At Least."

Once the ceremony begins, Do Not Fuck Around. Interfering with the marriage rite itself will cause the wrath of the English God -- who has obeyed the English throne since 1534 -- to crash down on you mightily. Sit quietly and think of immigrant prostitutes, subduing your hand gestures somewhat out of respect for the occasion.

#7. This is a Time For Celebration

Once the ceremony is complete, select guests will be invited back to the reception, which will either be at Buckingham Palace or the Planet Hollywood off Leicester Square (plans were not finalized at the time this article went to press). Once there, take the time to enjoy the libations on offer. Conscious of the need to appear upright in front of their peers, most of the other guests will refrain from the refreshment tables, meaning short lines for those who have no such qualms about getting their gin on (you, namely).

"They say the secret to a good gin and tonic is two fingers of whiskey."

Etiquette is extremely important during the eating act, and violating it will inch you a bit closer to getting kicked out. Use forks and knives at random, occasionally upside down. Use your wine glass as a crude spoon to scoop food into your mouth. Finally, during the soup course, discretely remove your mustache and tuck it behind your ear, so as not to stain it.