All hail Your Royal Gaynesses

Perhaps this week is not the best week to admit that I'm not the greatest fan of the British Royal Family, nor am I the biggest patriot you will encounter. I've just never seen the point in them, apart from the mildly attractive, yet Ginger, Prince Harry, who can arrive on my doorstep any time he pleases. I'm also rather glad I was away in New York (which, by the way, was amazing, thanks for asking -more on that in a moment) during the Jubilee weekend; I got to miss it all. So perhaps it's rather ironic that I was the homojournalist who suggested this week's theme.

I stand by my opinions on the royal family - after 18 years of life, I still have no idea exactly what it is they do, aside from giving us extra bank holidays for weddings and Jubilees. And then I came to America, and I realised how much their royal highnesses are lived abroad. Suddenly, I began picturing myself as a member of the Royal family, and what I would have done if this were my diamond jubilee that the world is celebrating...

I couldn't help it, sorry :p

Now, before I continue any further, I need to introduce Troy to you all. Troy was (still is, I hope) a particularly attractive, rather cute and just generally adorable in every way, waiter at the restaurant next to the hotel I was staying at. My esteemed colleagues will vouch for me that, for pretty much the entire duration of my stay in the Big Apple, I have done nothing else but witter on about how awesome Troy is, and how I want to marry him. That and checking in on Facebook to Central Park and the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State building, and various other New York attractions. I digress.  You'd be forgiven for thinking that I have lost the plot completely, what has an attractive waiter in central Manhattan got to do with my reign? Well, therein lies the answer, for Troy is no longer a waiter in New York City; he and I are happily married and shall be King and King of the universe and all shall answer to us.  (By the way, if by some happy coincidence Troy is reading this, I really hope you a) are gay, b) know who I am and c) accept that we're now happily married and supreme rulers if the universe.)

My lovely husband and I are now celebrating 60 years as supreme emperors/kings of the universe, and all of creation, including the Dalek/Time Lord time war, have a couple of days off to celebrate our glorious reign, much to the displeasure of the economy of life and George Osbourne. Here's what we've done over the past 60 years:

• Ended the 40 year war on homophobia
• Issued all homophobes with an immediate death sentence
• Legalised homosexuality across the cosmos
• Not let David Cameron or George W. Bush Jr. into office
• Forced David Tennant to return to the TARDIS
• Changed the currency of the universe to Jelly Babies and Vodka
• Brought Dumbledore and Snape back to life
• Banned Twilight and Justin Bieber
• Forced Steven Moffat to hurry up with season 3 of Sherlock
• Exterminated Cancer and HIV/AIDS
• Introduced cheap London Heathrow to New York JFK flights so that Troy can go and visit his parents and I can go and empty 5th Avenue as many times as I wish
• Declared Fish Fingers and custard as the national dish of the Earth
• Made all cities as easy to navigate as midtown Manhattan 
• Made all tube maps as easy to understand as the London Underground map
• Declared the Empire State Building as our palace and Central Park as our front garden (the Hogwarts grounds are already our back garden)
• Erected (hehehe) the Statue of Liberty in said front garden
• Declared the 31st of May as a universal bank holiday (the day I first met Troy ♥) 
• Ordered all theatres to offer free tickets to shows on Broadway/equivalent on Friday evenings
• Defied gravity

And here's how Troy and I want our jubilee celebrated:

• Plenty of dancing naked men
• Free alcohol for all
• Lots of food
• Clones of ourselves to take on our official duties while we lie on an empty beach somewhere in the Caribbean making love to each other... And also to Moriarty, if he feels up to it. 

That doesn't look like he's going to say no.

Yours Royally,
Kings Rory and Troy
Emperors of the Universe, Joint First Lords of Everything, creators of the supreme Time Lord race, the only people alive who still know the exact location of Platform 9 3/4

Not Prince Poppycock, but Prince Charles!!

Ah, Prince Charles, eldest son of our great Queen, and our next King-to-be... After hearing his speech, addressed to his mother at the end of the Jubilee Concert, and listening to the delightful way in which he said "Jolly Good", I realised.. our homojournal needs a Prince Charles Collage! So here is is:

Prince Charles in many shades of glory

Yes, I created this monstrosity, and yes, this took forever. I shall have to have it printed, poster-style, and stick it on my wall, as a reward for all the effort... *sighs* The things I do for you...

Some videos 

The Jubilee speech that started this whole post:

Our weather forecast:

How we'd travel to Ann Summers and Harmony:

How to contact him

...for those of you who want to know:

For the Royal Google Maps

According to his website, his official place of residence (along with Margret and his princes') is Clarence house, in London. You can write a letter to the address:

Clarence House, London, SW1A 1BA.

The website also allows you to email/ inquire using the site, but don't expect a personal reply :/

On google maps, there's a telephone number attached to the house description: 020 7766 7303

Who knows? It might work!

Eli x


You know the drill, feel free to email us, and comment, and give us loads and loads and loads of feedback, so we can improve and become better homojournalists :)

The Queen's family tree

Constructed painstakingly by Eli :)

ps, feel free to message me if I've made any errors... I did write "prince Albert" as the Queen's husband for a sec... until I remembered it's been a while since Queen Victoria's rein... 

The Queens Knickers

Elizabeth II at her finest.

Imagine the queen. Imagine her knickers. Not exactly an awe inspiring sight, is it? Not to alienate those among you with a granny fetish, if that’s what floats your boat you could do worse than royalty. Although, I’m under the impression her hair is moulded to her head, so no funny sex hair to be found in your illicit love affair with her.

Now, imagine her in a black corset? DON’T PANIC.

We told you, she was hot.

If you imagined our dearest Elizabeth as she looks currently in a black corset there’s something wrong with you.  “The queen? In a corset??” I hear you cry? Actually it’s a very distinct possibility; she was/is straight laced in both senses of the word.

Her official underpinnings supplier, Rigby and Peller, is also well known as a corsetiere. Perhaps not the see-through lace erotic affairs we see in Ann Summers these days, but a small hint at the forbidden realms of bondage. Which is exactly why the queen, during her sex symbol days, is the perfect mascot for homojournals idealistic view of England. As described by Mel in this post:

“But isn't England all about stiff upper lip and restraint? Handcuffs and gags... illusions and role play, disguise and spies. Fucking outside in the rain...eloquent dirty talk and the corruption of those posh totties?”

Go out loyal readers, make this dream a reality, there’s rain forecasted for the whole week, do us proud.

Todostrieb

And Honey, You Should See me in a Crown

Hello. Hi. Привет. Sveiki. Hallo. Bonjour. Hola. Ciao.

This is me saying hello in some of the languages of our readers, who seem to come from all over. Who knew Russia had such an interest in homojournal? Anyway, the point of this introduction is to say that today is Tuesday June 5^th 2012. In the UK (land of homojournal) it’s Jubilee day! You’ve probably gathered from James’ post that we have a whole range of festive treats lined up!

Picture this. You’re standing in a crowd of people, at least ten or twenty people deep. Everyone is standing in rows stretching unbroken for seven miles, spanning almost all of London’s most famous sights. The national anthem is floating over the wind. You hear cannons firing and planes flying overhead. Flags are waving and people are jumping, standing on tiptoes trying to see. Then it starts raining.

You’ve never felt more British in your entire life. There are cries of mam, mum and marm. An English sheepdog next to you is barking along. Then you see it. A giant boat, covered in royal red and gold leaf. Our royals, they are most definitely ours. Apparently they carry their own colour coordinated umbrellas, who knew? The Queen is wearing all white, like it’s her wedding day. She smiles her grandmotherly smile and waves her fancy little wave.

This is my experience of the Jubilee Pageant. It was amazing. The British public were out in force, some even bought periscopes and step ladders to catch a better view. The crowd was full of heated, very English style debates. My favourite was about the year of Queen Vic’s death. It’s 1902. It’s 1901. You’re wrong. No, you’re wrong. (It’s 1901 folks). And, what British event would be complete without beer and gigantic black umbrellas?

I hear you calling....well that’s lovely Mel, but you’ve clearly fallen into some patriotic stupor, what does this have to do with the homojournal? Well. I said I’ve never felt more British. Darrhling the Union Jack was the pattern Du Jour, and haven’t you heard that red, white and blue is the new black? But, we weren’t all English. We weren’t all white. There was an amazing mix of all cultures, language, ages and creeds. There was also an amazing mix of sexualities.

Perhaps it’s because I notice these things more nowadays, or perhaps the queer community takes more interest in our Elizabeth or something than everyone else? I saw several gay couples and drag queens that were fitting right in. Next to me there was a lovely gay couple who offered to share their beer. And they didn’t even complain when I kept falling into them trying to stand on my tiptoes.

So, all in all. Despite the poor view (my dad ended up picking me up), the poor weather (sweetheart, bad weather is in our blood) and the crowds, it was an amazing day that restored my faith in the British public.

I’d also like us to take a moment to remember that our Liz the second was once upon a time a sex Icon.

I would....

Thanks for reading,

Mel (aka the Queen of everything)