Pal Pot
A mate of mine reckoned he was sat smoking opium in a bar in Thailand with Pol Pot's brother. I have a feeling that that testifies more to the strength of the opium than the veracity of the story.
(set_phasers_to_alkie, Mon 7 Aug 2006, 10:42, Reply)

It's True About The Paint
Prince Charles came to the rough-as-a-badger's-arse council estate on which I spent some of my formative years to reopen an adventure playground that was adventures aplently for the tikes during the day, and for me and my mates at night.

Whilst it had some cool stuff on it, obviously built by nutters with a shaky grasp of safety regs and a passion for bolting logs together, I can't imagine why it warranted a visit from royalty. Indeed, he seemed fairly nonplussed in the footage I saw on Northwest Tonight. It must have been a slow week for them - nothing else but supermarkets to open, and I don't think you can book them for supermarkets.

Like I said though, it's true what they say - in the couple of weeks before, they came and painted fucking everything :)

Didn't meet him though - couldn't be arsed. Met the Equerry (military officer and toadie-designate) to Prince Andrew once though, but he was a cock.
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Mon 7 Aug 2006, 10:40, Reply)

I met one of the the brothers-in-law of the king of swaziland.
We talked about how cool it was to eat lion, even though it tastes pretty disgusting.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Mon 7 Aug 2006, 10:38, Reply)

royalty schmoyalty
my mums side of the fambly are some sort of old titled landed gentry, with country estates and houses in the city and all sorts of vested interests in global commerce. My great gran was married as a commercial deal to broker peace between two merchant wings of the family and the wedding was attended by then tsar of Russia Nicholas II. Unfortunately, this all means jack shit, as the great October revolution took just two years to dismantle 400 years of careful interbreeding and peasant usurping. My grandparents fled post communist Russia to Poland, where they battled against the Germans and Russkies during WW2 before moving to the UK as POWs and whingeing about it for the rest of their miserable lives. Grew up thinking that there was blue blood flowing through my veins until I hit 12 or so and the harsh realities of real life kicked in. Last vestiges are a coat of arms hanging in me mums cottage, and the remains of a dinner service with the crest of said tsar as the hallmark on the bottom - my great grans wedding pressie. Loads of it was thrown into the estate lake during civil uprising, but she rescued her fave cups and saucers, and carried them everywhere - including a forced march across Germany and the subsequent escape and flight through occupied Yugoslavia. Its a funny old world really...
(kaptinkurtz, Mon 7 Aug 2006, 10:21, Reply)

Bona fide princess shagging incident!
I was at a week long law students do in Perth, Australia. As you'd expect being intoxicated is far more fun than law, and so a week of drinking. Anyway... I kept seeing this elegant looking chickadee swanning around snubbing EVERYONE; aloof, distant, arrogant, the whole bit. I was joking with my mates calling her the 'arabian princess' etc. SO, surprised I was to get chatting to her and indeed bed her at one point during the week. AND a grubby one night stand was had (with all that elegance giving way to rather minxy debauchery I must say. heh. Next morning, I joke that she looks 'regal', "funny you say", she would have said had she had the english to do so ;), as it turns out her folks had some 28 room palace near Kashmir. Family title when she returns to some province up there, parents paid squillions so she could go to a top Aussie uni, the whole bit. I know you'll all be 'yeah sure', but everyone else who was there (before and after IT that is), believes it (even received a prize at the end of year ball), so nuts to you! Btw, i met up with her again later in the week and she 'shaved in case I saw you again' so, princesses do that too! Craziness.PS i have photos of snogging her on the dancefloor
(undypants, Mon 7 Aug 2006, 4:50, Reply)

Well I am...
...apparently. Ghanaian. I have a ghanaian middle name which my mum calls me by but my dad called me by adifferent one, me and my brother by the same one. A few months ago 2 braincells got to working, and I actually thought to ask my mum why that is. "It's a title" says she "All members of Ga royalty have it." Cue O_o, why the hell did they just assume I knew? Later on my great grandma on my mums side dies and her title states that she's also sacred princess of the royal clan of some other ghanaian tribe. Looked at her obituary pic and she's swamped in frikin' gold. Just makes you that bit more pissed off you spent most of your childhood growing up on a council estate.
(Habacock, Mon 7 Aug 2006, 1:29, Reply)

The only time Germany have played in the FA Cup
Our school arranged to have their new gym opened by the Queen. As a media stunt the headmaster decided to hold a subbutteo FA Cup, in which the Queen was going to take part along with a few minor B-List celebs plus one lucky student who would be in the hat. I was a subbutteo legend amongst my mates, so I bribed Mr Johnson, the Geography teacher, a tenner to fix it so it would be my name that would be in the hat. So, the day comes and the draw's being made and it gets down to the final tie being picked....."and finally, number 27....Lt Columbo will play......number 8....Jade Goody".

Needless to say I thrashed Jade 5-0 in my opening match, and on my way to the semi's I knocked out, the guy who used to play Ricky in Eastenders, Angus Deaton, Trisha, and in the quarters Geri Halliwell.

Then to the semi's....I was to meet her madge. This is where I feel cheated. Not only did the ref (my headmaster) dissallow 4 valid goals of mine, but he kept letting queennie have more flicks than she was allowed. He awarded every offside decision in her favour, and gave 3 penalties against me for handball when they were all clearly accidental. To his credit, he did come up to me afterwards and tell me it made better headlines to have the Queen make the final rather than a 'nobody student'. I could see his point. Still didn't deter me in letting down the cunts car tyres, though as I'd never actually seen him in a car I had to let down every car tyre in the car park just to make sure. I remember thinking "Surely the headmaster doesn't drive one of these lovely Rolls does he??? oh well, better safe than sorry" as the air whooshed out the wheels.

PS. Oh the irony when the Queen was beaten in the final by Ralf Little of Royle Family fame.

PPS. I beat who I thought was Matt Lucas in the 3rd place playoff, imagine my dissapointment when I asked for an autograph and it turned out to be Gail Porter whilst she was undergoing chemo.

PPPS. Keith Chegwin won the Fair Play Award (Though I think this was an act of pity, as anyone else who saw him on 'Naked Jungle' can testify).
(Lt Columbo, Mon 7 Aug 2006, 1:20, Reply)

Not me but
One of my ancestors helped to kill King Charles I, well he signed his death warrant, and his name is George Fleetwood.

I was in a museum once with my parents and some American tourists were commenting how terrible it was that royalty had been killed. We mentioned our ancestor’s involvement and how we are actually quite proud. They replied saying they're sure god would have forgiven us by now and that they'd pray for us.

Oh how we laughed.
(neL1984, Mon 7 Aug 2006, 0:36, Reply)

Queen
Never met the queen, but a court deemed that i should serve some time at her pleasure.


Bitch.


Legless - as usual, a fantastic story.
(Aleister Crowleys Badger Nothing to see here, Mon 7 Aug 2006, 0:26, Reply)

No one beats mrfalafel to the loo
At a charity panto at the Hackney Empire theatre, I was sat across the aisle from Prince Charles and his bodyguards. The place was crawling with celebs lord knows how I got in. Anyway, before the show I drank several pints in the bar with my star-struck wife. During the 1st half of the panto my bladder filled. Charles security guards are looking all around so I was too intimidated to run for the bog. I decided to wait until the interval.

When the lights went up, me and my bursting bladder made a mad dash towards the loo. I was aiming to beat the crowds, you see. However, Charles and his bodyguards stood at the same time as me but just behind me. One bodyguard bumped into me as I was turning up the aisle and Charles bumped into him as well. Thus, with them both momentarily stunned I mounted the stairs at speed towards the cool confines of the loo where I was awarded with blessed relief. My poor wife was practically in tears with embarrassment when I returned and was amazed I wasn't arrested or anything.
(mrfalafel, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 17:16, Reply)

...but otherwise...
...fuck the lot of them and Vive Le Republic!
(DrTugnut, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 17:05, Reply)

Royal Minge.
My mate Richard worked as customer service manager at a top notch hotel where the Queen and her posse were staying (he made sure the trouser press worked and that there was a mini pack of digestives on the tea-making tray - or something like that.) After she left, him and a colleague were inspecting the room to see if they had left any valuables behind. Nothing.
But lo - there on the toilet seat was a solitary pube!
The vision of them kneeling down either side of the crapper, staring at a lone piece of muff minge discussing how to advertise it on ebay will stay with me forever
(DrTugnut, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 16:59, Reply)

i've met prince charles's dog.
when i was on a holiday in scotland, not so far from the balmoral castle (down the street actually), there lived a completly pissed, but very, very nice woman nonetheless named dawn. She had a hyperkinetic jack russel, and she claimed it to be the dog of prince charles. she claimed furthermore that she occasionally made soup for harry and william. harry succesively said that "it was the best soup he ever ate" wich later on the evening became "the worst fucking soup he ever ate". me and my sister are still not sure of what to believe of her story, because despite her being utterly pissed, she was very honest and had a heart of gold. and she lived near the castle. i guess we'll never know...
( Mr. Johnson, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 15:42, Reply)

Ladies, you may want to seek the assistance of a male friend for this.

If you draw a little face on your penis and then cup your balls and press down gently so that your balls are beside it, it looks a bit like a cartoon of Prince Charles.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 14:23, Reply)

Charlie Is My Darling
I once met Prince Charles.*

I was working on an aircraft carrier when Charles was still in the Navy and the Captain asked me to take a message to HRH.

"Where will I find him Sir?" I asked.

"Shouldn't be hard" says the Captain "He'll be on the flight deck. You can't miss him - he'll be the Jug-Eared Idiot feeding bread to the helicopters"


*May be a complete pack of lies in order to slip in a crap joke....
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 11:32, Reply)

I'm

quite fond of apeloverage's brother, and I've met the queen.
(Lt Columbo, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 1:58, Reply)

my brother

was quite fond of the band Queen, and I've met him.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 1:39, Reply)

The Queen gave me a blowjob...
...well, almost. I picked up my monthly delivery of Playboy off the doormat one morning, took it up to my room, took off my pants, whipped out my dinkle, but pre-ejaculated over the envelope's stamp before I managed to remove the mag. If I were a better aim I'm sure I could've got it in her mouth but alas, her shoulder was the closest I came.
(Lt Columbo, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 0:28, Reply)

I met the queen once
she asked me where i was from and i told her ruislip. i then added that it was at the end of the metropolitan line (on london underground). she looked at me as though she had never heard of the tube and i was some sort of nutter. still i had the last laugh because she had lipstick on her teeth, the silly bint.
( Derek Monte subthread killer: qu'est-ce que c'est, Sun 6 Aug 2006, 0:13, Reply)

The Skinny Dead One...
Once came into my shop (Our Price in Kensington), not too surprising with her living down the road and all.
She had the younger of her two brats with her, y'know the one with the Nazi fixation and minor weed habit. He woulda been about ten then I s'pose.

Given that I loathe women who cheat on their husbands, I let one of my crew deal with her, but couldn't avoid getting dragged into the transaction when the sales assistant got a bit starstruck. (Big gay Australian type, why do they love the dead princess so much?)

The little prince was buying a Michael Collins DVD, and needed mummy to pay. (Nice to see he was learning some anti-establishment stuff.)

Dopey Princess looks flustered, but fortunately the security guy stepped in and forked over the readies. That must have really smarted! Those royalty protection lads are mostly ex-army lads, so having to cough up for the biopic of the head Fenian can't have been much fun for him.

I'm the King of London by the way.
(Mr Steve is jobless and fancyfree!, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 18:46, Reply)

[mention of never meeting royalty]
[joke about knowing a homosexual who is therefore a 'queen']

[poor length/penis pun]
( Lightguy hail satan, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 18:41, Reply)

I broke something of the Queens, but it wasn't my fault
I was on the river bank with a group of mates on a lovely summers day. After 24 attempts a swan inadvertently flew between my two hands and, as he tried to untangle himself, he accidently got his neck snapped.

Fortunately though Colin, my best mate, had some bricks and a piece of rope with him, and as he tossed them into the river one of the swans legs somehow got attatched to one end of the rope.

A couple of days later there was an article in the local paper, about how an old person had witnessed a gang of local youths murdering a swan and if anybody has any information then they should telephone the local police. I thought to myself, I hope them yobs get caught and they all get what they deserve.
(Lt Columbo, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 17:28, Reply)

Prince Wills
At school, I played rugby against Eton, and Prince William was my opposite number.
There was a bodyguard on each side of the pitch and for some reason I didn't manage to tackle him once...
(jezmck .com, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 17:00, Reply)

i met Jack Straw once whilst at school
and shook his hand* which in turn shook Tony Blairs hand which in turn shook the Queens so we're are basically related

*it was warm and sweaty - possibly from a nad scratching session
( m-a-t-t -- formerly mini hasn't been on here for EVER!, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 16:36, Reply)

I'm known in this city
as the king of pain.

EDIT: sorry. I'm known in this city as the king of wank.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 11:40, Reply)

Not so much a brush with royalty...
...as being possibly related to them at some stage. Indian prince on my mother's side (great grandmother). My brother is dark haired and dark skinned. People think he's adopted, which is quite funny. I and the rest of my family look like typical white Aussies. Both sides are related to the Irish, the Scottish, and are related to the Normans somehow.

Here's something off topic:

Some people related maybe by a distant ancestry in the IRA blew themselves up somehow. I read about it online while trying to look up relatives. Stupid relatives.
(satellite blows, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 10:26, Reply)

I'm very good friends
with the guy who taught Prince William how to play Doom; he wasn't very good at it. Aparently he used to use IRC too.
( SuperMatt, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 10:04, Reply)

met Vera Duckworth a few years ago
Outside a bingo hall. That's gotta count, surely.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 7:30, Reply)

Churchiness
My Italian-American father's side of the family is always happy to rehash an old family legend that a relative of ours was a high-level Archbishop, Cardinal, Osprey, or some other such robe-wearing, Pope-assisting clergyman in the Vatican back in ancient times, at a high enough level that he appears and is named in some famous churchy painting from back then. (In my school days I researched and verified the painting and his appearance in it, though I no longer remember the specifics apart from his being one of several ugly bastards in dresses.)

According to the family legend (this is very probably where this veers away from historical fact and toward the olive-oil-fueled delusions of the insane old people I find myself sharing select chromosomes with,) his legacy entitles anyone from our proud line to some sort of preferential treatment by the Vatican should any of us ever decide to take Holy Orders, get ordained, hop over there, and devote our lives to the Roman Catholic Church.

Oddly enough I am clergy in training these days, albeit as part of a coven of Neopagan Witches. Probably not what old great-uncle Pope-Fluffer was expecting. Good for me!

Apologies for enormous genitals.
( Rob T Firefly talked, like, William Shatner, on, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 3:07, Reply)

Well..
I once had sex with one of Nicholas Parsons' nieces..does that count?
(King Spoon, Sat 5 Aug 2006, 2:11, Reply)