Prince Charles needs a big phat enema

Grauniad has a story about a German professor of medicine in the UK who dares to challenge Prince Charles' 'alternative medicine' racket. Apparently the Prince is peddling his own brand of cowdung and herbs and :daisy:. Herr Doktor begged to disagree that this is doing anyone any good and was ostracised.

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But it was a complaint from Prince Charles's principal private secretary five years ago that nearly cost Ernst his job. The letter, sent by Sir Michael Peat in his capacity as chair of the Prince's Foundation for Integrated Health, accused Ernst of violating a confidentiality agreement in relation to the publication of a report. Prince Charles denies having anything to do with the letter personally, and Ernst was cleared by a subsequent inquiry. But Ernst believes the power of the royal family has distorted public policy in relation to complementary medicine, and does not plan to let the subject drop.

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I think Charles should have a huge enema of his own herbal concoction. Idiot.

AII

Inbred royal mongrols abusing power what else is new. The only bright side is that that brittish droopy might just possibly an even bigger nitwit then our future king William the Fast (as seen at the Dam incident, that guy can MOVE despite tons of medals, check your gold when close they tend to take as much as they can when they flee) with his golddigging junta-whore

No, not one of the more sensible things he backs. He clearly gets over excited with "nature" and sadly doesn't have the science background to back this up.

With any institution one can get minions wielding vast power as they are perceived as doing things "on behalf" of the head even if the person at the top isn't aware of it (which of course he might have been). Charles also doesn't directly control who others decide to ostracise. If they are more royal snobs than scientists that's their problem.

Charles views have done a lot less harm than the legions of celebrities undergoing "detox" or droning on about how important hydration is to survive. That must be very bemusing to all those in arid countries. They are clearly so stupid to be unaware of the functions of both the liver and the kidneys.

~:smoking:

There's one good thing about Arthur. He married Lady Di thirty years ago yesterday. Because it was a public holiday, I was on treble time. With nothing to do, the electrician from maintenance took me through the highway code. Several times.

I duly passed my driving test thirty years ago today. Hurrah! :balloon2:

Cheers Arthur. :2thumbsup:

He's still an imbecile though. :laugh4:

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Originally Posted by InsaneApache

There's one good thing about Arthur. He married Lady Di thirty years ago yesterday. Because it was a public holiday, I was on treble time. With nothing to do, the electrician from maintenance took me through the highway code. Several times.

I duly passed my driving test thirty years ago today. Hurrah! :balloon2:

Cheers Arthur. :2thumbsup:

He's still an imbecile though. :laugh4:

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On that very moment I was sitting smack in the middle of the road on Puerta del Sol, usually a trafic madhouse but now deserted because literally every Spaniard was watching 'la Boda' (dee weddeenk) on tv. Well, every Spaniard bar one, a superb girl next to me. I told her we could do better and then I kissed her, oh yeah.

AII

I remember it well too!!!

Thirthy years ago I was sitting in this bar in Hong Kong, a gorgeous Belgian brunette on my left leg, an Ozzie redhead on the other. Then HQ called me on my cellphone. They had an urgent mission. I ordered the girls to get dressed, finished my Martini, left Lee the croupier a $1500 tip and proceeded to my Aston Martin waiting outside.

I rushed to my 51st floor loft, and called Alejandra, my agent in Spain. She was working on this Dutch reporter, ambitious but a bit slow. Just what we needed. We had to work on him to promote our case, unwittingly. 'Look, A', I said, 'I don't care if that massively tall guiri is wearing purple trousers and hasn't shaved for a week. That's what all those Dutchies do. You shall have to kiss him as if he's a fine Gouda. Because we need him to write favourably about the Cause, we need to win over the socialist side for our patron!'
'B...but Louis, my master, can't you send any of the other girls? Can't we bribe him?', she stammered. 'No, Alejandra', I insisted, 'we must act now. We have only a limited window of opportunity, our man in Salford can distract his co-workers only for so long until they wise up and discover he's brought the power down while posing as an electrician from maintance. Hurry now, the wedding will be over soon, the eyes of the world won't be distracted forever....'

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Originally Posted by Louis VI the Fat

I remember it well too!!!

Thirthy years ago I was sitting in this bar in Hong Kong, a gorgeous Belgian brunette on my left leg, an Ozzie redhead on the other. Then HQ called me on my cellphone. They had an urgent mission. I ordered the girls to get dressed, finished my Martini, left Lee the croupier a $1500 tip and proceeded to my Aston Martin waiting outside.

I rushed to my 51st floor loft, and called Alejandra, my agent in Spain. She was working on this Dutch reporter, ambitious but a bit slow. Just what we needed. We had to work on him to promote our case, unwittingly. 'Look, A', I said, 'I don't care if that massively tall guiri is wearing purple trousers and hasn't shaved for a week. That's what all those Dutchies do. You shall have to kiss him as if he's a fine Gouda. Because we need him to write favourably about the Cause, we need to win over the socialist side for our patron!'
'B...but Louis, my master, can't you send any of the other girls? Can't we bribe him?', she stammered. 'No, Alejandra', I insisted, 'we must act now. We have only a limited window of opportunity, our man in Salford can distract his co-workers only for so long until they wise up and discover he's brought the power down while posing as an electrician from maintance. Hurry now, the wedding will be over soon, the eyes of the world won't be distracted forever....'

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Aww, now you make me feel like that sad excuse for a hack, Lucien de Rubempré from Balzac's novel Les illusions perdues, the flawed provincial poet who is humiliated in Paris and vows revenge through journalism, alienating his family, his best friends, the women he loves and ultimately the very principles that caused him to venture into poetry in the first place. Worst of all it makes me a character in a scene not of cosmopolitan life, but of provincial life.

Payback can be such a Balzac sometimes.

AII

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Originally Posted by Adrian II

Grauniad has a story about a German professor of medicine in the UK who dares to challenge Prince Charles' 'alternative medicine' racket. Apparently the Prince is peddling his own brand of cowdung and herbs and :daisy:. Herr Doktor begged to disagree that this is doing anyone any good and was ostracised.



I think Charles should have a huge enema of his own herbal concoction. Idiot.

AII

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I seriously doubt the professor's early retirement has as much to do with His Royal Highness as it does a lack of sex appeal, and hence Chinese money, in his research. The University of Exeter is more concerned with oversees funding than upsetting the locals, that's why there's a dirty great barnicle and a massice greenhouse growing out of the cente of the main campus right now.

dont´think you could give Charles an enema....his head would get in the way.

Liar. You were only twelve.