It’s not surprising the Royal Family didn’t want British papers to show pictures of the prince cavorting in the nip in Las Vegas.
Nothing to do with protecting the right to privacy and everything to do with realising that the photos show him to be a spoilt rich kid, behaving with about as much class as a Premiership footballer and all this at our expense.
He’s a captain in the British Army, where his salary is somewhere between £24,500 and £37,000 a year.
Either he’s paid this money or not. Whatever happens, we pay for his lifestyle. What other soldier in the British Army could afford the sort of holiday Harry had in Las Vegas where the rooms he stayed in cost more than the average weekly pay of a soldier of his rank?
He’s a waster and to dress it up any other way is like calling what he and his mates were doing ‘strip billiards’. Whatever name you use, when it comes down to it, it’s just a load of posh b**ls.
How depressing that someone with all his privilege and support, behaves like this. He gives ‘chavs’ a bad name. If this is the best the Royal Family can do, they’re so far past their sell-by-date they really need to be thrown out now.
This Government of rich boys goes on about how “we’re all in this together” and declares it’s going to clamp down hard on individuals who milk the benefits system.
The Queen is the head of the government, in name anyway. Why don’t they start at home then and get the Royal Family sorted out?
Why isn’t the granny, in the absence of Harry’s mother, taken into a government office and made to sign over some of her benefits to make up for what her unruly offspring are doing?
Isn’t that the Tories’ approach? Blame the parents, the families, make them take responsibility for their children’s anti-social behaviour? Hit them where it hurts, in their pockets. Or in the Queen’s case, since she never carries cash, in her bank accounts.
Harry’s not a prince, he’s a self-indulged kid from a broken home who’s shown that his basic instincts are towards hedonism with a touch of Nazi fascist dressing-up thrown in just for a lark. Ha, ha, ha. As his great great great granny would have said: “We’re not amused”.
I don’t give a pocket billiard what any 27-year-old man gets up to with his friends and it’s not my business to see photos of his private parts, sorry, parties.
That’s not the main issue here, but as usual, any whiff of nudity or sex and the great British public goes nuts, ably abetted by the British press and society’s current obsession with celebrity-based titillation.
And it’s all a wonderful smoke screen to distract from the real obscenity.
The photos of him in a swimming pool wearing shorts or on the edge of the pool, looking at all the bikini-wearing girls around him, are just as damning as any of him with no clothes on.
It’s not the naked bodies that disgust me, it’s the naked self-interest, supported by the fawning “little people” that sticks in my craw.