BY DOUG QUAID
With her birthday today, Queen Elizabeth II is celebrating 90 years of life, and with it, 90 years of refusing to meet with me in fair combat.
Since ascending to the throne at the tender age of 25, Queen Elizabeth has proven herself a capable, circumspect ruler, but has also courted controversy with her repeated refusals to meet with me on the open field of battle.
Although I have made it very clear that I was willing to extend Queen Elizabeth the courtesies of allowing her to choose the time, the place, and even the weapons, my letters and emails to Windsor Castle have consistently been met by stony silence.
I am given no choice but to sadly conclude that Queen Elizabeth, our beloved monarch, is a total chickenshit.
This isn’t about politics. When it comes to the monarchy, I’m ambivalent. It’s not personal, either. I think Queen Elizabeth is a fine person. What this is about is whether or not the Queen, our Queen, has the pesos to come out of her fricking castle and fight an honest man on honest ground with the honest knuckles that the Lord God gave them both.
Call me old fashioned, but when somebody talks a good game about loving their subjects, I want to see if they can back it up in the ring.
Or the octagon. I’m not particular, so long as it’s just the two of us, there’s no time limit, and the winner gets full bragging rights.
Look, I’m not even sure that I can win this fight. After all, Elizabeth wouldn’t be Queen if she wasn’t the best. But if it turns out that my falcon palm isn’t enough to come out ahead against her regal lion-style, then I’m fine with that. I just want to know.
It’s time for Queen Elizabeth to break her silence. And if there’s one way that I know how to break silence, it’s by bringing the fuckin’ noise.
So here’s what I propose. Tomorrow afternoon, around three o’clock, Queen Elizabeth II and I finally hash this out, mano a mano, in Yonge Dundas Square.
Queen Elizabeth II, I’m calling you out.
