(Subtitle: Harry the henpecked husband)

As Hemingway once said, “In the world of sensation there is no going back.”

Prince Harry has described his circumcised penis, and his bottom being smacked whilst losing his virginity in a public place to a lecherous older woman. What can come next to generate mega for their bottomless pockets (pun intended)?

Well, he could always post pictures of his genitals on the internet? And Meghan could give us a guided tour of her collection of handcrafted bottom smacking paddles. And she could maybe reveal that she never wore knickers on formal state occasions to demonstrate her contempt for stuffy royal protocols like curtseying to The Queen? Although maybe there was a touch of envy because Pippa was reckoned to have the cutest bottom in royal circles – and a panty line would certainly detract from Meghan’s figure hugging $20,000 designer dresses.

Piers Morgan got it right when he said that Harry and Meghan’s reality TV specials were like the Kardashians, but not as classy and dignified.

Harry Windsor, to give him the title he craves, should be aware of a quote from another great writer, Walter Moseley: “In my experience beautiful people rarely give as much as they take – and they almost always come back for more.” Harry condemned Meghan from his own mouth when he warned his staff,

“What Meghan wants, Meghan gets.”

He is just another hopelessly infatuated man who cannot control a demanding wife. He should think on about his late grand-uncle, the Duke of Windsor (King Edward VII) who gave up his throne for the love of an American divorcee. He ended his days as a melancholy ghost hovering on the outer fringes of café society. The parallels are spooky. As Karl Marx said,

“History repeats itself. First time tragedy, second time farce.”

Right now, Harry Windsor is revelling in his bolshie adolescent role of “Black sheep of the family” just taking the piss out of his family, and making his millions. Maybe the Royal household are right to ignore it, get on with the job, and let it burn itself out. But what has happened to the British love of irony and satire (and generally taking the piss)?

We are treating the Harry and Meaghan soap opera act far too seriously.

Quite a few years ago I listened to a wonderful satire on American Forces Radio (very unusual because Americans, usually take themselves far too seriously and don’t take the piss). But this was called the HILL ‘n BILL show, supposedly broadcast from the Santa Monica Lewinsky studios. The set up was President Bill Clinton and Hillary sitting in bed on a Sunday night while she berated him for his poor performance the previous week and set his agenda for the coming week. Hillary’s dialogue was up-to-date and whip smart, in the way that only American sitcom writers can do (think CHEERS and FRASIER), and Bill’s only contribution was (in a down home Hillbilly accent), “Aw shucks Hill, do I have to?” while scarfing down 2 Big Macs and a side of ribs, and slurping a giant Coke.

What could those writers do with a show called MEG ‘n MILLIONS broadcast from the over the top Knightsbridge Arab throne room in their Montecito mansion? Throne Room being UK slang for lavatory.


Harvey Weinstein, and sneak-peek vagina dresses

The despicable Harvey is just an extreme example of the lecherous showbiz producer who has been in existence since Hollywood began. Read your Raymond Chandler.

Anybody who has ever had contact with Showbusiness can immediately identify how sleazy it is.

My aunt was a senior receptionist at a 5-star hotel in the UK that had many Showbusiness personalities as guests – and the staff hated having them. Almost without exception they were drunken and foul-mouthed – abused the staff, and lived like pigs. They trashed their rooms with wild after-hours boozy parties that frequently involved under age girls, and boys.

But for all those sleazy sexual predators there is also an endless supply of slutty prey in Showbusiness. Nubile young women, and young men, who are willing to do anything for their fifteen minutes of fame – and even more of fortune. And you don’t have to be in the business to see that.

Look at any first night or awards ceremony on TV, and see the grizzled old-toads, filthy rich and powerful men, with girls young enough to be their daughters, or granddaughters, on their arms. And then the wannabe starlets yet to hook a sugar daddy, strutting the red carpet with plunging necklines, or transparent dresses worn without underwear – or the latest red-carpet fashion for sneak-peek vagina dresses slit to the hip bone. It’s a meat market.

Almost as nauseous as Harvey and the like, are the crocodile tears of the Sisterhood. Harvey Weinstein’s behaviour, like that of Jimmie Saville, Rolf Harris, Bill Cosby Et Al, were “open-secrets” well known in the industry, and condoned because of their success – and the desire to be part of that success. To portray themselves as victims of brutal alpha males is hypocritical. The industry is full of narcissists and exhibitionists who can see no fault in themselves – always ready to blame their failings on others.

Hanoi Jane Fonda, who betrayed American POWs to the Vietcong, also procured young women for threesomes with herself and Roger Vadim. And Dame Helen Mirren, for whom I have great respect, complains that producers wanted to see her body. Why not? In her very first movie role she did three full frontal topless scenes, almost unheard of in UK films at that time. Why did she think that they would fly a first time film actress, straight out of drama school, first class to Hawaii – and accommodate her in a 5-star hotel? She and/or her agent, must have read the script.

Yes, some of Harvey’s harassments were genuine victims: production assistants, interns and gophers overawed by his wealth and dominant personality. But a large number were willing “victims”. And now Pandora’s box has been opened, every aspiring Hollywood starlet will claim to have been harassed by Harvey. It will be an essential part of their CV.

Many of the expatriates who feature in my book THE GULF “Reaping the Whirlwind”, washed up in the Arabian/Persian Gulf because of the perfidy of women. Typically they were veterans of politicians’ wars like the BURAIMI Oasis, the DHOFAR Campaign and the Vietnam War, whose wives or girlfriends cheated on them, seduced by cheap promises and false glamour.

THE GULF “Reaping the Whirlwind”, deals with the effect that fabulous oil wealth brought to the region after the quadrupling of crude oil prices in 1972 as seen through the eyes of those expatriates. You can preview my book on Amazon’s Kindle Websites at:

and read the comprehensive 5 Star reviews it has received, and download it if you have a Kindle.

If you prefer a real book in your hands, you can preview my book, and order the paperback from my UK publisher: