I was in England when Diana was killed and she told me that it wasn't. She also told me that it was Chuck who wouldn't let her bring me some nice tea when my wife and I were motoring in the Balmoral area that cold, wet, October night. She wanted to, thought it would be "downright neighborly" (to use her own words), but Chuck wouldn't let her -- got downright hostile, she said. Anyway, I'd crossed her off my "invite list" because of it, but I've since restored her and in fact I chatted briefly with her when a few spirits dropped in for a drop the other night.

Chucky still is off and there's powerful little chance he's going to be restored to full social status. The very idea, hangin' around with that floozy when poor Di was just sitting at home, wearing a revealing negligee and just waiting, waiting, waiting.... Then he'd come home smelling of cheap beer, cheap cigars, and cheaper perfume, and just drop into bed wearing his dirty boxer shorts and snore and burp from both ends. Just some castle trash, if you ask me.