As ruler of the Realm of Viragette, I issue the following 10 commandments:
1. No returning veteran shall be forced to sit on a piano in obvious discomfort while a panel of embarrassingly drunken 22 year old girls scream along to the lyrics of “I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free and I won’t forget the men who died [screaming emphasized by violent pointing at veteran] who gave that right to me…. ”
2. If any drunken young woman screams “I’ll gladly stand up (!) next to you and defend her still today” at a veteran in this way again, her pimply visage shall be sent to the enlistment office posthaste.
3. I will ennoble the veteran for his extreme patience in the face of drunken hypocrisy, but mostly for NOT dying.
4. I will ennoble his girlfriend for rescuing him from the stage. [Your highness and her friend the Princess of the Match, already close to tears from watching such a tragic spectacle - is nothing sacred!? - very nearly lost it completely when the two, forced to stay onstage by the drunken crowd, took refuge in each other's arms.]
5. No phone solicitor shall call the castle while I am watching bald eagles fly over the pond from my back yard.
6. Next time, thou cool gay neighbors shalt talk to me before selling the house!
7. Someone do something about my iPod battery. Please.
8. Thou shalt not whine every time I walk past your food dish all day long.
9. Thou shalt not covet my last piece of bacon.
10. Thou shalt not criticize the way in which I have trimmed the laurel hedge, infidel!
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