Pippa ‘Butt’ Middleton

When Prince William (Duke of Cambridge) entered his ‘Made in England’ marital paradise, millions of people chose to focus not on the bride but rather on the sister-in-law, Pippa Middleton, who flashed her fleshy rear bumper not as curvaceous as a Ferrari’s.

That sinking feeling

During the royal wedding, the British society remained at great risk of sinking into an abyss of voluptuous bottoms. It might have been infinitely more fruitful for the English to recover from the prevailing ‘economic downturn’ instead of obsessing over Pippa’s rearmost. People missed a great opportunity to demand free fish and chips and ended up chasing after royal hindquarters.

Nobody can wake up someone who pretends to be asleep. The idea behind the expensive royal wedding ceremony was to make all Earthlings completely forget the financial spanking the money-masters have been giving to a captive global work-force. The public was expected to forget all woes for the duration of the royal puppet show in London.

How might one’s life improve by reading about ‘the fittest member of the monarchy’ or seeing ‘the nicest ass at the royal wedding’? We live in very dangerous times in which governments, instead of overhauling invasive foreign policies, help weaker regimes create ‘Big Brother’ police states all over the world. Humanity’s focus has been hijacked; trivia is intentionally being given maximum importance in our lives.

A new oath of allegiance

Pippa Middleton, by appearing at Kate’s wedding, set the cyberspace on fire and caused the Twitter website to crash.

Then Jimmy Wevell created on Facebook a page called ‘Pippa Middleton Ass Appreciation Society’, where over 226,000 fans (and counting) swore true allegiance to Pippa’s derriere. He even intends to induct her into the ‘Butt Hall of Fame’—wherever that might be. Now this part of the anatomy in my part of the world is ritually thrashed by the police to extract ‘voluntary confessions’ from those who dare to cross the paths of the Law or the VIPs.

How many of you recall reciting the following?

I, (Insert full name), do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty (name withheld due to security concerns), her heirs and successors, according to law. So help me God.

Will we—God forbid—see a new oath of allegiance of British citizenship which might read as follows?

I, (insert your full name), do swear, without using four-letter swear words, that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Majestic Bums, the buttocks of heirs and successors, according to law. So help me dogs.

A large number of Pakistanis—with plenty of ifs and butts at their disposal—are now expected to seek citizenship of the United Kingdom to admire royal butts.

The osculum infame (Francesco Maria Guazzo's Compendium maleficarum of 1608)

Osculum infame

During the Victorian era, gentlemen kissed ladies’ gloved hands to show respect and brave men received knighthoods on bended knees; we are now living in an age in which the fanny of the likes of Jennifer Lopez command awesome respect and the greatest possible media coverage.

With all those magic-infused Harry Potter novels (‘modern literature’) casting mass spells over children, this obsession with buttocks might lead one to what witches do at the beginning of sabbats: offer ‘The kiss of shame’ to the fundament of the devil and sometimes those of lower-ranking demons.

Because modern women have no use for chivalrous knights in shining armour, the knighthood manufacturing department of England is at risk of being shut down if it fails to give a new meaning to the honorific title of GBE—that of Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Bottom End. What does the popular slogan of ‘God save the Queen’ mean these days when one cannot save one’s butts from uncontrollable inflation and increasing taxation?

How will future British children be reared—pun intended—in the traditional British way if unnatural emphasis were placed on royal rears? Will they introduce buttology as a new subject at Oxford? Does Britain’s favourite traditional fish and chips risk being renamed bums and hips?

Lucky to be in Pakistan

In Pakistani politics only two things may be considered worth kissing: the swagger sticks (or batons) at our General Headquarters or the hindquarters of a foreign power.

Here, if any ‘bloody civilian’ ever dares accusing a high-ranking serviceman of breaking the oath, his own hindquarters end up being in serious trouble. No journalist in his right mind dares making a curvaceous sarkari begum sahiba the butt of his joke, leave alone use colourful language to describe the fatty rear of a leader’s sister-in-law.

In rural areas, the punishment for a disgraceful act is this: the offender’s head and eyebrows are shaved before being given an ignominious donkey-ride through the streets, with children jeering, “Pagal, hee oye!” (literally: hey, madman!).

Bhabi means brother’s wife. In Pakistan, men normally address another man’s wife as bhabi. Do not be misled by Waheed Murad, our ‘chocolate hero’, who played a touchy-feely brother-in-law and thus perverted a pious relationship for the sake of a film. I warn you: DO NOT watch this video.

Hot-crossed buns

Instead of using a pendulum and a hypnotic voice suggesting, “You are falling asleep”, Pippa Middleton’s rear was used to cast a mass spell on billions of television viewers. True to their nature, the British tabloids first admired Pippa Middleton’s soft white silk dress and then sang praises of her equally white and 'lively rear that squirmed mesmerizingly’ as she followed her lucky sister down Westminster Abbey’s aisle.

While I am able to correctly interpret many body language signs, never have I tried decoding imaginary signals ‘mesmerizingly’ emanating from ‘squirming’ buttocks. Have you?

Some questions arise here. Why do most males tend to notice female cheeks? Is that part of their genetic makeup or have they been conditioned by events such as the one under scrutiny? Do Hollywood and the news media require severe censorship before anti-harassment laws are enforced?

It’s in my blue jeans

A British celebrity fitness expert has opined, “Not calorie-burning workouts but rather family genes play an important part in having a rounded backside as perfect as Pippa’s and a curvy long-legged figure like her mum Carole’s.”

We all know what happens in Pakistan if one brings into an argument someone’s mother, sister or daughter. Not only did this ‘expert’ comment on the daughter, he dragged in her ‘mum’ as well. His message is clear: in order for a woman to climb up the Darwinian ladder of evolution, she must possess royal family genes—whatever they look like under a microscope.

Being a man, I missed nothing by not watching Kate’s wedding. I assume plans are now afoot to boost British tourism by introducing yet more topless red busses in London to take newly-married couples and their in-laws for sightseeing the rear ends of genetically superior sisters-in-law.

You too, Gluteus?
The same royal trainer also opined: “Gluteus maximus is a big muscle that responds quickly to exercise, many of my clients want a body like Pippa’s. Her butt-toning secrets are: tennis and swimming all strokes except the breast-stroke.”

Pippa behind Kate's behind

Why, this must be supreme royal censorship? Were they able to keep Pandora’s snuff-box closed by not disclosing that Pippa does swim excellent breast stroke?

I know not how to swim or play tennis but here I am with my maximus talentus of making social commentus that receive an odd few hundred clickus each monthus on this blogus. How can I compete with Pippa Middleton’s gluteus, leave alone her royal bunsus which do better social workus than I could even dream of doing? In any case, her public display of a ‘squirming’ posterior gets more Facebook LIKEs in a day than I ever could in a lifetime.

Get your BUTT over here!

This British fitness expert who trains the royals to have perfect butts must now be held accountable by UK-settled Cash-Miris whose ‘Butt’ surnames are unfairly associated with the most backward and fatty part of the human frame.

Never mind if the Cash-Miris are famous for cooking and then consuming foods so fatty they make the word cholesterol blush, or that they love talking about food while consuming it, or that they possess bodies that lean people have nightmares about.

In care-free Cash-Miri company, one is bound to forget that a balanced nourishing diet and some physical exertion are fine habits. The Cash-Miris of Pakistan have given up all forms of physical exercise except one: that of demanding the exercise of constitutional rights for their kin across the Indo-Pak Line of Control.

From today on I will do strenuous cardio workouts, prefer extreme diets, take the stairs and never a lift, and ascend three steps at a time to bend the knees a bit more so that my gluteus maximus wakes up—God knows, it needs to. To ensure that I also meet exacting British ‘LMAO’ Standards, I intend to do another exercise that I recently devised: jumping into my trousers both legs at once.

©Tahir Gul Hasan 2011

Re-edited, 01 December 2019