|Silence is Golden|
How to construct a successful non-career out of fuck all. Standby. Watch & shoot. Watch & shoot!
This specimen is a snapshot of modern Britain - a once proud nation that built ships and was the foundry of the Empire that has been reduced to nothing more than a production line for fat, sobbing non-entities who can't sing but who still crave celebrity and are whores to the meeja.
Burrell achieved fame - or rather notoriety for one thing: he was Princess Diana's 'rock' - according to Burrell himself, as Lady Di's been a bit quiet of late. Burrell worked for the Royal Household as a skivvy - or to give him his full & correct title: Tucker-In in Waiting of the Royal Bed Chambers.
All was well, with our man jetting around the world and hobnobbing with the rich and famous, getting his mugshot taken with all & sundry and generally living quite a comfy and exciting life. Then some drunken Frog went and fucked it all up by stuffing his Merc - and Burrell's raison d'etre - in to a Parisian tunnell.
All those who think they've still got a job one pace forwards. 'There's yer P45 mate. Cheers big ears!' And so it came to pass that Burrell found himself out on his ear. But all was not lost. The nation was in mourning and the media were salivating at the bit for anecdotes and stories from absolutely ANYONE who'd EVER come it to contact with the Princess. 'Grinning spastic one pace forwards... MARCH!'
Christmas had come early for Burrell and he went from being a bottom polishing nobody to international celebrity almost overnight. Burrell capitalised on the 'I'll never tell' line - which was the honourable (and expected) thing to do. He made sure things never went off the boil by implying he knew all sorts of incriminating stuff but was keeping most definitely schtum - and the media loved it. He was after all Diana's 'rock'. She told him everything: state secrets, who was boffing who, what she REALLY thought of the Royal Family, the colour of The Boathouse etc.
Burrell was accused of nicking some letters and stuff in 2002 but got off with it because he claimed he'd been given them by Lady Di herself, and as she was on extended leave it was a case of nothing could be proved. Phew, that was close!
2008 saw the long awaited Diana Inquest and it was time for The Rock to come once again in to the spotlight. It went something like this:
- PB: 'Erm... no... ish. Well... probably. Hang on! No, forget that bit. They definitely did not polish off Lady Di on the orders of Phil the Greek. Honest.'
- Coroner: 'Are you quite sure?'
- PB: 'Er... yeah... I think.'
After the inquest Burrell immediately spilled the beans to The Sun. He did know that the spooks had slotted his former employer after all. Not only that, but the entire Royal Family are all reptilian aliens from another planet who, in conjunction with Peter Mandelson and the Bilderberg Group are in the process of taking over the world by sucking the brains out of teenagers and putting them on The X Factor.
Now (predictably) a multi-millionaire, Paul Burrell was last seen scoffing maggots in the Australian jungle - his brains having seemingly befallan the same fate as others in the 'entertainment industry'.