This past summer, I waived Cressida Bonas away when she was spotted getting on Prince Hot Ginge at a club in London. Just like that wart on my taint, I didn’t think Cressida would stick around for long. And just like that wart on my taint, she came back and it doesn’t look like she’s leaving anytime soon. Cressida Boner really showed me to not underestimate her skills at luring the hot ginger one, because here she is snuggling up to his ass on a ski slope in Switzerland yesterday.
I know, how can Prince Hot Ginge canoodle with a chick named after a mid-size Toyota sedan in public, in front of the cameras, in front of our eyes! How can a hot ginge be so cold? I want to scream the same thing my ex-boyfriend’s mother screamed at him when he brought me home for dinner, “How dare you bring your WHORE into my house?!” The audacity! But whatever, that is just the jealousy talking.
I mean, look at this bitch’s life. After a long day of skiing with PHG, she gets to warm her frozen hands on his piping hot flaming dick bush. Then after warming her frozen hands on his piping hot flaming dick bush, she gets to sip tea while the Original Fergie gives her the juice about THE QUEEN. Then after the Original Fergie gives her the juice about THE QUEEN, she gets to burn her tongue on PHG’s stovetop nalgas. The life: she is living it!
But The Mirror and their insiders are wrong for calling her “the one.” Unless she’s a puppy wrangler who shoots vodka from her butt and can beatbox the European house song of his choice on command, she’s not the one.