They're really rocking' in Mayberry, down at Highgrove House...
Now, Charlene Darling, there was a beauty. I know, I know- she was a fictional character. Aren't we all? I never knew whether to feel sorry for Ernest T. Bass or to celebrate his joy. Downhill romance with no brakes and the steering out is life with all nerve endings exposed. I feel sorry for the ones who never know the ride. Most folks, alas, never will.
After the hoopla, poor Charles was stuck with his beautiful bipolar princess, a fortune that would choke the queen's favorite horse, two perfect children and a job with good hours and a proper health plan. As we all came to know through the British tabloids, all he wanted was to be Camilla's tampon.
Be careful what you wish for.
Me? I wish I could quit ending sentences with prepositions.
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