Princess Charlotte could be in the process of covering her nose after smelling a royal fart (that was dealt by Princess Beatrice, her face is an ocean of fart guilt), but I’m pretty sure she’s sneezing, which could mean she was sick, which could mean she passed something to her great-granddaddy. See, this is why I instantly turn into Julianne Moore from Safe when a child near me so much as gets the sniffles.
That Dramatic Emergency Meeting At Buckingham Palace Turned Out To Be About Prince Philip’s Retirement From Doing Public Stuff
If you’re like me, then you were probably cursing Twitter every time you got up in the middle of the night to look at your phone to see if Prince Philip died, or if one of THE QUEEN’s Corgis betrayed her by enlisting in Morrissey’s anti-royal brigade, or if Prince Hot Ginge dumped Meghan Markle and declared that he can no longer fight the fact that he’s a ginger gay whose type is skinny fat American dude bloggers with shit for brains.
The Daily Mail was the first to plant the seeds that caused Twitter to instantly grow a field of wild speculation. Before I went to bed last night, they reported that THE QUEEN had summoned her entire household from across the land to a mysterious emergency meeting at Buckingham Palace. Now, I love a good dramatic emergency meeting. It’s very Illuminati-esque. But not one that starts in the morning (London time)! Twitter burped up all kinds of speculation from the French media saying that Prince Philip had died to THE QUEEN announcing that she’s giving up the throne to Prince Hot Ginge announcing his engagement to an ex-blogger/basic cable TV star. Many said that the BBC would make an announcement about the emergency meeting at 8am London time. Apparently, it’s protocol for the BBC to make announcements about royal deaths at 8am. I tried to stay up for the earth-shattering news, but my eyelids wouldn’t let me. Finally at around 2 in the morning (PST), I checked my phone and learned that the big dramatic announcement was 95-year-old Prince Philip deciding that he’s too old to cut ribbons at events. Prince Philip is retiring from doing public events. That was the announcement. Damn that sneaky old coot for fucking with my sleep like that. He’s good.
Everyone better put their pocketbooks in a prayer circle because a treasonous cold is still messing with THE QUEEN (exact medical term for THE QUEEN’s cold: acute viral morrisseyngitis) and she had to sit out of Christmas Day church service for the first time in decades.
So because his 90-year-old great-grandmum wasn’t there to make fun of Duchess Camilla’s tragic hat and ensemble with him, Prince George was probably extra bored. Proof of Prince George’s boredom: that picture above of him having to entertain himself with the candy of the peasants as everyone around him nervously tries to figure out ways to amuse him before he sends them all to the gallows!
The British royal family all got into their best Christmastime Downton Abbey cosplay today to do their annual pap walk into and out of St. Mark’s Church in Englefield, Berkshire. The Middletons, including Pippa and her banker betrothed, were also there. Prince Hot Ginge disappointed me today, because he did not bring his girlfriend Meghan Markle, who I was hoping would show Duchess Kate up by wearing an amazingly elegant body bow, and he also didn’t put that ginger beard to good use by dressing up as Kris Kringle.
But well, at least we have Prince George throwing “your future king is not amused’ eyes while working a sharp-as-shit A-line coat, knee socks and little loafers.
Happy Whatever Your Ass Celebrates, everyone! May you spend your holiday sucking on a candy cane while judging everyone around you!
Today is the 95th birthday of Prince Philip, the British royal family’s messiest old coot, so everyone in England should be celebrating his special day by airing out their huevos or chochas in a kilt while offending people and cursing tricks out. But that’s not happening, because everyone is too busy celebrating the anniversary of THE QUEEN’s born day again. Prince Hot Ginge’s abuelita turned 90 in April, but when you come out of a royal cooch with a tiara on your head, you get two birthday celebrations.
Before we get into the latest contribution that 94-year-old Prince Philip, THE QUEEN’s husband and Mr. Burns’ long-lost British daddy, made to the Department of Fuckery, here’s a few of his past “greatest hits.”
– While visiting China in 1986, Prince Philip told a group of British exchange students that if they stay there for much longer, they’ll become “slitty-eyed.”
– Prince Philip asked an aboriginal businessman “Do you throw spears at each other?” during a visit to Australia in 2002.
– Prince Philip smashed the space-flying dreams of a 13-year-old while looking at the NOVA spacecraft at Salford University when he told the kid, “Well, you’ll never fly in it, you’re too fat to be an astronaut.”
– And of course, last week he told a photographer to hurry up and “take the fucking picture” at a photo call with his grandkid Prince William and other veterans.
That is some “Shit My Messy 90-Something Grandparent Says” shit.
Reverend Henry Kane’s spirit brother was at it again while attending the opening of the Chadwell Heath Community Centre in Dagenham with THE QUEEN yesterday (pictures below). Nusrat Zamir, who founded the Asian Women’s Network at the center, tells The Daily Mail that while talking to a group of women, Prince Philip asked them who do they “sponge” off of? Somebody please find a way to warn the birds above to watch out for Morrissey’s head, because it’s going to pop off of his neck and shoot through the sky any second now.
Ms Zamir, who founded the Chadwell Heath Asian Women’s Network which meets at the centre, said: “The Duke said to us ‘who do you sponge off?” We’re all married so it’s our husbands. “He was just teasing and it’s similar to what I call my husband – the wallet.”
The 35-year-old, who presented the Queen with a large iced sponge cake as the royal couple arrived at the community centre, added: “He also said to us ‘do you meet to have a gossip?'”
The women should’ve answered back with, “We’d ask you the same thing, but everyone knows the answer to that, you curmudgeon ass coot.” But a rep for the royals said that it was completely taken out of context by the media and the women too, I guess. Because Prince Philip was talking about sponge cake!
“There’s a context here, they were talking about a sponge cake, no offence was intended or taken.”
Nice spin. Next week when Prince Philip visits a mental health facility and says to an Asian patient, “What a nutty nip, you are,” a rep for the royals will say that he wasn’t being offensive. He was referring to the delicious peanuts and cheese crackers snack mix he made for the patients.
Pics: AP, Wenn.com
All those English horse races are the same to me (I’m a racist, I know), so I always get Aintree and Ascot mixed up. Aintree is that horse race that brings out Britain’s most genteel and pristine flowers and by the end of the day, a lot of them are on the ground, spread eagle with the bottom of their dresses covering their faces and empty bottles of booze strewn around them. So I was getting my nipples ready for the moment when pictures would come out of Prince Hot Ginge drunkenly lying on the concrete in nothing but a top hat and a thong made out of his baby blue tie. But Prince Hot Ginge wasn’t at Aintree, he was Ascot, which is like Aintree’s snobby older cousin who suddenly has a posh accent, wipes his ass with silk, can go to a horse race on a weekday afternoon since he doesn’t work and looks down upon getting broke down, panty-flashing drunk in public. BOO!
PHG was on his best behavior at Royal Ascot (I’d let him cot my ass and I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means) today, because THE QUEEN was there with a pocketbook full of bricks that she wasn’t afraid to swing if one of her grandchildren started acting the fool. THE QUEEN’s piece Prince Philip was also there and I never understand why he goes to those things. He’s 93 years old and if I ever make it to 93, the last place I’d want to be is at a horse race where I’d have to stand in the grass as my 93-year-old saladitos-looking ass nutsack suffocated from being shoved into a stuffy suit. But he’s a good sport about it, I guess.
And there’s really nothing else that needs to be said about these pictures. It’s PHG in a top hat and holding an umbrella. I’d hit it all including that top hat and the umbrella he’s stroking.