Doesn't a hint of royal scandal just tickle you? It does me.

A certain Countess of a rival court spent all of last weekend depleting the supplies of Glenlivet in Newport, to which she had been invited by one of the greatest hosts of them all, my sister The Countess du Barry. Apparently, the ostentation of Newport so overwhelmed her that she made some reference to my having spies placed in Newport to record her every move. (Ha!) Sadly, she had to leave du Barry's truly grand court and return to her own in the dark, barren mountains of Transylchusetts, where married lesbian house maids wash the fine lady's underthings in a local stream.

I hope this countess will understand that it takes time to develop so many photos taken, as they were, from the handles of walking sticks and snuff boxes. But, one rather shocking video is making the rounds of this court already. Apparently, the ersatz Glenlivet and someone shouting out "Zouzou" sparked a dance from The Countess that one can only imagine coming out of some mating ritual in Mozambique.

Great timing,too, for the ten, new video screens at MY court.