Not one queen but many; players of the pink oboe left right and centre; hookers being smuggled in one door while mistresses exited another; the odd princess wandering about with nothing on under her fur coat; and any amount of gargle for the old dears and, we must assume, big fat spliffs for the kids – Jesus, old Buckingham Palace, is getting more like Snort Towers every day.

Sam’s links with what we will all now have to call Fuck House go back a long way. Back in the ’60s, when I was a major player on the swinging London scene, many’s the bucket of gin and 500 duty free ciggies I shared with Margaret when we retired to the palace of a quiet evening – or, at least, it would be quiet until The Queen Mutha hobbled in some time after midnight, stuck her snout in the bucket, and proceeded to get royally trolleyed. Famously, yer man, the butler, would later report the Queen herself as saying that there were “powers at work in this country about which we have no knowledge”. Don’t know about the whisky, but there was certainly Gordons at work in that country about which, in Sam’s experience, the older royal chicks had only too much knowledge.

Old Punt

The butler has certainly stirred up a hornet’s nest with his revelations about life in Fuck House. Not that much of it is news to Sam Snort, friend and confidante of the royals for many decades. Take for example, the revelation that Lady Di liked to refer to the five pound note as “a blue granny”, the tenner as a “brown granny” and a fifty spot as “a pink granny”. Sam is pretty sure that the royal legal tender gags didn’t end there. Notwithstanding the fact that I have spent too many years with my head stuck in Foghat’s bass bin, I’m almost certain that I wasn’t mishearing when I heard a palace lackey refer to big Phil, more than once, as “that mad old punt”.

Whatever, that granny gag was pretty hilarious, you must agree, and indicates that, of all that demented crowd, the lovely Di was far and away the sanest. Further proof comes with the revelation that, on her 35th birthday, the Princess went out to meet her lover naked apart from her sapphire and diamond earrings and a fur coat. A class act, or what?

According to reports, her lucky lover on that occasion was one Hasnat Khan, someone nobody had ever heard of before or has heard of since. And with good reason, as you will learn when Sam Snort publishes his inside account of that night in a forthcoming book called See Nipples And Di. Put it another way, when Di made that famous comment about there being “three people” in her marriage, she wasn’t, in fact, talking about Camilla Parker Bowles.

An’ I thank the ladeez know jest what ahm a-talkin’ bout.

While Di – or “Mrs Wales” as she was known on her credit card – emerges utterly enhanced from the butler’s tale, the same can not be said of Mr Wales. According to the butler, when Charlie was in hospital after a hunting accident, his valet was obliged to hold the bottle when the Prince was giving his urine sample. A few questions are begged. Is this taking the piss or what? How keen was his valet? And where did Charlie learn that trick about getting someone else to hold the bottle? From his granny?

And what are we to make of the butler himself? Depending on which tabloid you subscribe to, Burrell is either as straight as an arrow or as bent as a corkscrew, a loyal servant or a royal rat.

White Powders

Sam’s view? Well, it might be instructive to relate my own reaction when my Filipino houseboy Raul went to the papers with a big expose some years ago.

Day after day, the revelations poured out: ten-in-a-bed romps with people of both genders in Snort Towers; top stars snorting fast white powders off the dining room table; back-handers to named politicians; midnight flights with known felons to Bogota; arm shipments dropped off on the great lawn by helicopter; how Sam liked to walk around naked but for a Sawdoctors t-shirt.

After a relentless 10 weeks of shock-horror headlines, there was little of Sam’s reputation that hadn’t be shredded across the red tops. At that point I called a halt, told Raul to pick up the check and we split the 50 grand on a new waterbed and a terrific holiday in Disneyland.

Your ever lovin’ Samuel J. Snort Esq