Yet another Royal wedding, in Sweden.
What a nice way to spend my income taxes! And I did not get even invited for the dinner. Too easy, now, to talk shit about Sofia Hellqvist. Yes, she got some topless photos published on the internet, and a few videos running on the net (ok, now I lost all my male readers: they are already Googling for such images!). Everyone knows, Princess Sofia of Sweden gained her popularity on the Paradise Hotel reality show: then, only then, she met the Royal boy and kissed the Frog.
Carl Philip is not the luckiest guy in the room, to say the least. He was born to be King of Sweden, just to see equality prevail: a new law was soon approved by the Swedish parliament, and his older sister — the big-chinned Victoria — was appointed new heir apparent. The King his father never liked the idea, but he had just to accept it. Sweden is an equal society. Men and women are worth the same: at least those born in the Royal family.
Democratic People’s Republic of Sweden
Is it just me, or the idea that equality means getting a Queen sounds like a joke? I mean, equality would be becoming a Republic, so that my girl daughter could aspire of becoming the President of Sweden — one day. Instead, now, the only chance for a girl to get up-there is to marry a whatever-Carl-Philip is on the market. Equality, my ass.
I have my theory on why Sweden is still a Monarchy: in the Swedish culture it is quite inappropriate to be “better” than someone else. To say, they do not even give grades when graduating at the university. No one is better than some one else. And if you think that you are, shame on you. So, keeping a King (or a Queen) saves the Swedes from the embarrassment of having to elect a primum inter pares.
And by the way, who wouldn’t like to have such a light-hearted, cheerful King:
Prince Small Sausage
So here, we go. Sofia Hellqvist, our new Princess, walking down the aisle with her Prince Frog. I wonder how their children will look like. Hopefully: smart as she is, and cute as she is. Carl Philip, for once, will be a lucky guy. (By the way — in Swedish — a sausage is a “korv”. Then, at the supermarket you can buy some smaller sausages, tiny tiny baby-penis size sausages: they call them “Prins Korv”. I guess that kids made a lot of fun of poor Carl Philip, when he was in school.)