Friday, January 8, 2010
Sex With Kings
I am so bummed. I went back to the bookstore today to get the book, "Sex With Kings" but it was gone. Somebody else bought it out from right under my nose. Is someone else around here illegitimate? Yes, it would seem that my great-great great-great grandmother had sex with a king. Half of the family is so pious they are scandalized. The other half is amused. I made myself an honorary member of the other side, the happy side, a long time ago. (Does this have anything to do with "sad Danes" and "happy Danes?") I'm playing with this notion in a work of fiction and decided it was decidedly more delightful to ponder on this Friday night than the material I'd been slogging through earlier, the shit at the church. So, don't mess with me. Don't mess with me indeed. I'm a (great great great great grand) daughter of the King. And in case you wonder why I don't look Swedish, it's because I'm partly French. No, not a French King. The Swedish Kings are French. Go figure. So. The good news of my heritage is that I have, on the one hand, a half acre of swamp land in northern Sweden, currently on permanent loan to the Swedish Defense Department for its defensive missiles. And, on the other hand, I need a tiara. Happy weekend! And if you got that book today, can I borrow it? I'm kind of curious.