Is pariah prince still Earl of Inverness? City scribe’s savage attack on odious Andrew

by Colin Campbell

LAST night we received an email to the effect that the obscene graffiti of a giant male sex organ we highlighted on the Gathering Place which has been an appalling blight on the riverside has now been cleaned up. And not before time. This depiction has been left there untouched for over a month. The council said the work could not be done until the waters had subsided, whenever that would be.

A correspondent wrote to us after our report appeared saying simply: “Why can’t the cleaners wear safety harnesses, or go in a cradle and obviate the need to go into the river.”

Why not indeed? Well at least the combined resources of the entire Highland Council have apparently succeeded in removing this disgusting obscenity.

Credit where it’s due? Well, a tad maybe, but after such protracted negligence, not very much. As another correspondent wrote: “This can be seen from the hospice. It’s utterly appalling!”

Well we learn it can be seen no more.

And for heaven’s sake, Highland Council, if this sort of thing happens again, do NOT leave it for weeks on end marring the Inverness riverside.

Which leaves us moving on to another very unsavoury and some would say disgusting topic, Prince Andrew.

The Inverness Courier last night carried the headline: “Earl of Inverness stripped of military affiliations and Royal patronages.”

This referred to an announcement earlier in the day from Buckingham Palace that he had been effectively shoved out into the cold and would defend sex charges laid against him as a private citizen.

It also resulted in some angry comments reflecting public anger that the creep still holds the title, “Earl of Inverness”.

This was awarded to him when he married Sarah Ferguson in 1986.

While I’ve watched his fascinatingly excruciating Newsnight interview with Emily Maitliss several times – it really is compulsive viewing in the sense of shovel, hole and digging – I didn’t know he still was “Earl of Inverness”.

I’d assumed that the title would quietly have been removed and the city would no longer be associated to any degree with the pariah prince.

When are we going to get shot of “The Earl”? He won’t be visiting anytime soon. Not unless the royals decide, like a consignment of nuclear waste, that he should be shipped away from them as far as possible. To Porterfield perhaps.

And what of the portrait of him that was prominently on display in Inverness Town House? Is that still there? Inverness councillor Ron MacWilliam was the most justifiably fiery advocate for its removal and incineration after that TV interview. Maybe it’s gone now, suitably reduced to ashes, in line with his reputation. If not, it obviously should be. And I think it’s safe to say there would be 110 per cent approval across Inverness for that to happen.

While there is little or no place for humour surrounding this incredibly sleazy situation, another correspondent – a former senior council official and a highly respected member of the community – last night emailed us his take on events. An element of crudity duly acknowledged.

And we view it in context as an imaginatively savage attack on “The Earl of Inverness” and his loathsome associates.

 

THE EARL OF INVERNESS

Four-and-twenty virgins were supplied to Inverness,

And when the Ball was over, there were four-and-twenty less,

Singin’ balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,

If you’ve never been sweaty on a Saturday night, you’ve never been sweaty at all.

 

There was do in in the Town House, above the doggies made of stones,

But you couldn’t hear the Pipers for the wheezin’ and the groans,

Singin’ balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,

If you’ve never been sweaty on a Saturday night, you’ve never been sweaty at all.

 

The Prison undertaker, he was there, all wrapped up in a shroud,

Swingin’ from the chandelier, and peein’ on the crowd,

Singin’ balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,

If you’ve never been sweaty on a Saturday night, you’ve never been sweaty at all.

 

The corpse of Epstein, it was there, but it did not do too much,

So they propped it up against the wall, and kicked it in the crutch,

Singin’ balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,

If you’ve never been sweaty on a Saturday night, you’ve never been sweaty at all.

 

Prisoner Maxwell could not attend, so she appeared by video link,

Sending a message from her cell live, sh***** in the sink

Singin’ balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,

If you’ve never been sweaty on a Saurday night, you’ve never been sweaty at all.

 

The Gathering Place genius was there, but the sad twat was a mess

He could not touch the lassies, so he screwed up the River Ness,

Singin’ balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,

If you’ve never been sweaty on a Saturday night, you’ve never been sweaty at all.

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