F*ck the Royal Wedding

On April 29th William Windsor, or Wales or Mountbatten or Saxe-Coberg or whatever he calls himself, is marrying Kate Middleton. Or Katherine, as she is apparently going to have to call herself. The state, in its generous wisdom, has given us all the day off so that we can line the streets, waving union flags, and eating cupcakes at trestle tables. It’s going to be fantastic, obviously. However, eventually darkness will fall upon us, and we will be left with that feeling of coitus interruptus – of unconsummated physical love for our eventually-to-be king and queen.

What to do about those blue-balls for blue-blood? Bring ’em along to the F*ck the Royal Wedding party at the Buffalo Bar. With Thee Faction onstage at 21.00, an all-star punk rock covers band (F*ck off P*ss Off) knocking out some of your fave punk rock classics, and our hosts – Guided Missile – spinning rockin’ tunes til dawn, there is no way on the People’s earth that you can go home unsated. Coitus very much completed, comrade.

Do  not miss this. These ruling class nuptials pop up but once every two or three decades. They give us days off for ’em. Use that day wisely. Come to the F*ck the Royal Wedding party, and wear your best clothes.



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