So if you were living in a cave in Scotland with your eyes shut and your hands clamped over your ears singing “La la la la I can’t hear you,” you probably still know that there was a royal wedding last Friday. Hell, chances are someone gave you a bloody flag.
While we appreciate a day off as much as the next men’s magazine, we weren’t watching the Royal Wedding with as much solemnity or, conversely, celebration as we imagine the royals would want us to.
To be completely honest, we weren’t really even specifically watching the Royal Wedding, because we were hungover, but there’s only so much you can squint at your iPhone under the covers before you decide to at least get out of bed and put on trousers to commemorate such a landmark occasion. It was on the Telly when we went through. We think it was actually against the law not to watch it.
Pippa's arse. Also pictured: Pippa Middleton, Kate Middleton, Bananaman
So as we stared bleary-eyed at the telly and the girlfriend oohed at dresses, we were contemplating a bacon sandwich (just, you know, contemplating it. In a general sense) when we saw something fascinating. Something worthwhile.
DUN DUN DUNNN
Pippa Middleton’s arse.
At first, we thought we were the only ones. We shuffled into the kitchen and looked over our shoulders as she approached the cathedral, wearing that tight white dress. We pretended to make coffee. God, we thought, she’s alright. Imagine going out with her. You’d get asked to Buckingham bloody Palace, imagine that, all canapés and champagne and dignitaries.
But then again, we don’t even have smart shoes. How could we impress her?
It’s a tall order, and you’d never quite be able to perform to the same level as your brother in law as chances are you’re not an ordained monarch. (if you are, by the way - Hi Harry, your subscription’s run out again, but we know you’re good for it) But still. What a tremendous bum. We could get along with that.
Bananaman tired of this laborious waiting
Then it turns out later that it’s not just us. There’s a massive fan page devoted to her sexy behind on Facebook with 176,500-odd fans. There’s even a shop of dodgy, quickly-constructed goods that you can buy. You know, if for some reason you decided you had to have cheaply-produced boxer shorts with “Pippa Ass Fan” written on them.
So it’s a surprise, really. We thought we were alone, and could charm her into a whirlwind romance or at the very least a dirty weekend somewhere nice. And worse still, her current boyfriend (ex-cricketer Alex Loudon) has been wary over Prince Harry’s flirty advances. We can’t compete with a Prince, or even a man with a heavy bat. Ho hum.