While Prince George laid around his palace in his sharp-as-fuck christening gown (Note: When life gives you a stunning and luxurious christening gown like that, you never take it off until your growing limbs bust the seams), his mom and dad waved, smiled, waved, smiled, waved, smiled and waved some more at their day job in London this morning. Duchess Kate and Prince William took a bus ride with servicemen and women for London Poppy Day, which is the day that all Brits celebrate Poppy Pomfrey. No, London Poppy Day is a day when volunteers at tube and railway stations try to raise £1 million in one day for Poppy Appeal, a charity that helps military families. And just because I want to type the word “poppy” one more time: POPPY.
Hair dye and brown hair mascara sales dropped to record lows today when everybody saw Duchess Kate’s grey roots on her 1975 Kate Jackson hair. The top of Duchess Kate’s head was almost as shiny as the top of Prince William’s bald globe. The Daily Mail raised a magnifying glass from their Detective La Toya starter kit and got to the bottom of this! They brought up these highly important points:
Grey hair not directly associated with pregnancy
Many women find hair feels and looks thinner after having a baby
Some mothers avoid dyeing hair while pregnant or breastfeeding
Or maybe she’s just had grey hair for a while and we’ve never seen it because she’s always got a hat that looks like a stuffed pancake on her head. But really, I’m sure that’s not grey hair. Since Duchess Kate is a royal now, liquid diamonds flow through her insides and sometimes they overflow and seep out of her skull. Whatever the case may be, silver Sharpies and Wite-Out are already sold out, because EVERYONE wants silvery grey roots now. Silvery grey roots are so now.
Here’s more of Duchess Kate and Prince William riding the bus today. I also threw in some pictures of my favorite Poppy Chulo honoring fallen soldiers at the Field of Remembrance in London today:
Not pictured: THE QUEEN making a “You BETTA recognize, hussy” face.
Who knew that British royals are just like us! They also have to bow their heads down to their abuelitas or face the wrath of the pocketbook (the pocketbook is the British royals’ answer to the chancleta). I spent way too much time focusing on Prince George’s sharp-as-shit christening gown, so I completely forgot to add this video of the royals air kissing and bowing down to THE QUEEN at his christening in London today. My favorite part is when Prince George glides in and gets into a stare down contest with THE QUEEN. (Spoiler alert: THE QUEEN won.)
Prince William is trying to make it look like Prince George is waving, but it looks more like he’s nonchalantly playing a tiny invisible piano with one hand.
Once inside the chapel, Prince George was christened with water from the River Jordan. I’m guessing that by “the River Jordan” they mean Katie Price’s bathwater, right? And right after the River Jordan water was poured on Prince George’s head, PHG let out a stream of giggles, because he swapped that river water with vodka.
Duchess Kate thinks she’s the only British royal who can sell out a piece of clothing just by wearing it, but she’s dead wrong. Yes, thousands of her subjects are running to their local bakery to buy a mound of bread dough after seeing Duchess Kate wear one on her head at Prince George’s Christian orientation/hazing ceremony in the Chapel Royal at St James’s Palace in London today. But even more people are furiously searching the Internet to find out who designed Prince George’s luxurious lace gown, because they want it. Well, sorry wannabes, but that shit is vintage and no, you can’t buy it at Decades or one of those other fancy shops where rich hos buy used clothes for thousands of dollars. Prince George’s shit is a family heirloom and a one-of-a-kind design, bitches.
The BBC says that Prince George’s gown is a replica of the lace and satin christening gown made for Queen Victoria’s eldest daughter, Victoria, the Princess Royal, in 1841. Prince Hot Ginge (see him working it here) and every other royal has worn that same christening gown since then. The design is stunning and that train elongates Prince George’s legs so he looks five feet tall instead of one foot tall (or however the hell tall he is). Expect Tommy Girl to try that “train makes your legs look longer” trick. And Prince George knows that he’s got this and he’s already looking down at Suri Cruise, Blue Ivy Carter and North West from the top of Vogue Bambini’s Best Dressed Baby Child In The WORLD list.
And because he’s the future King of England and has to do everything extra, Prince George has seven godparents who will be his spiritual advisors and guide him through life. They are:
No, I wish. The real list is here. No Jodie Marsh! No Prince Hot Ginge! Can you believe that shit? That list sucks. The only person I know on that list is Zara Phillips and that’s because I once bought a coat half price at her store in the Menlo Park Mall in New Jersey.
Well, I guess my wet dream of Prince Hot Ginge realizing that he should stop denying his feelings and marry his only true love, a 1 gallon jug of vodka, is not going to come true. Because The Telegraph says that he wants to make his piece Cressida Bonas Britain’s next princess and she’s come around to the idea of marrying PHG and letting him bareback fuck a scrunchie-wearing ginger baby into her womb. 24-year-old Cressida is some kind of free-spirit who always thought she was too young to get married, but she’s kind of into it now. The source said:
“Cressie is going to marry Harry. Harry never stops talking about marriage and children, and she has now got used to the idea. The wedding is likely to take place next year.”
“Got used to the idea….” Either Toyota Cressida’s battery is dead and she’s void of feelings inside or she’s a hipster to the bone who is pretending to be “eh” about becoming PHG’s wife. Because the only natural reaction to PHG telling you that he wants to bone you non-stop until a baby’s head is pushing his ginger rod out of you IS to turn into a squirting panty pudding fountain of excitement. Something is really wrong with you when your ovaries don’t jump out of your cooch and attack PHG’s crotch after he tells you he wants to make babies with you. THE QUEEN better keep a side-eye or two on Toyota Cressida, because she’s obviously a spy for the Slytherins.
But I could get “used to the idea” of Toyota Cressida being a princess. I mean, the British monarchy needs a royal who dresses like a cross between Shannen Doherty in Heathers and Shannen Doherty in the first season of Beverly Hills 90210, and it definitely needs a royal whose official title is HRH Duchess Boners.
And here’s PHG giving us some Officer and a Gingerman shit at the Australian Navy’s “International Fleet Review” on Sydney Harbour two days ago.
While working a glistening (aka sweaty) “just got drunk at the beach” glow, Prince Hot Ginge and his caramel Jelly Belly teeth made an appearance at an event for his charity Sentebale in London tonight and of course all the damn reporters asked him about the future King of England. They should’ve asked PHG what he was drinking, because he looked like a beautiful shade of DRUNK. But they asked him about the baby and he said that the baby is a baby and that he’s going to make sure that Prince George knows how to snort vodka properly.
“When I saw him he was crying his eyes out like all babies do, I suppose. It’s fantastic to have another addition to the family. I only hope my brother knows how expensive my baby-sitting charges are. [My role as an uncle is] to make sure he has a good upbringing, to keep him out of harm’s way, and make sure he has fun. The rest of it I leave to the parents.”
And here’s the video of PHG saying those things.
To answer the question that you’re going to ask. No, that creepy guy with the half-Friar Tuck silver ‘do who’s petting PHG’s face with his eyes is not me.
In case you couldn’t tell from the fact that Morrissey’s screams of excitement are echoing through the world, the royal vagine is stretching as I type this. I got an alert on my phone at around 12:30am my time that said: DUCHESS KATE IS IN LABOR! STOP EVERYTHING! I was about to jump out of bed and glue my eyes to all the riveting live feeds from outside the Lindo wing of St Mary’s Hospital in west London, but I figured that THE QUEEN probably got the same alert on her phone, shrugged, screamed at her lady-in-waiting not to bother her until Prince William is re-enacting the “present to the pride” scene from the Lion King and went back to spooning with her pocketbook. So I did the same thing (but replace “pocketbook” with “empty bag of Soft Batch cookies.”)
Her Royal Highness The Duchess of Cambridge has been admitted to St. Mary’s Hospital, Paddington, London in the early stages of labour.
— Clarence House (@ClarenceHouse) July 22, 2013
The Duchess travelled by car from Kensington Palace to the Lindo Wing at St. Mary’s Hospital with The Duke of Cambridge.
— Clarence House (@ClarenceHouse) July 22, 2013
So right now in London, Duchess Kate is probably taking a royal labor shit on the delivery table as Prince Hot Ginge celebrates by doing afternoon vodka shots off all the nurses’tits. And when Duchess Kate finally gives birth to the future King of Queen of England, it will be announced on an ornate easel Pippa’s bare ass behind the railings on Buckingham Palace’s forecourt.
Some fancy, hoity-toity ass British society wedding went down in England today and all the pinkies when up when Prince Hot Ginge came sashaying through with a twinkle in his eye that said, “Your ovaries: they are exploding, I know. Send me your gyno bill.” And by “pinkies” I mean clits. I mean, a clitoris is pretty much a vagina pinky.
On a real-life episode of Downton Abbey today, Lady Melissa Percy married Thomas van Straubenzee and I can’t believe Maggie Smith wasn’t there to roll her eyes at all of it. That should be a law. Anytime there’s a British society wedding, Maggie Smith SHOULD be there. But anyway, PHG was there and so was his current piece Cressida Bonas (aka THAT SKANK) and his ex-piece Chelsy Davy. Of course Cressida and Chelsy didn’t tear each other’s facesoff while trying to get on PHG’s crotch. Chelsy would never. She’s a true lady. She was probably too busy getting drunk on champagne and giving a quick handy to one of the groomsmen in the bathroom. I still don’t know why PHG stopped humping on Chelsy. She was always my favorite. She looks like she smells like vodka, drugstore foundation, old cigarettes and dried mascara clumps. Who wouldn’t want to inhale that all the time? Chelsy Davy looks like a piece of dried bronzer crust with blond hair. PHG is dim in the brains for letting that go.
Duchess Kate’s vagina royale is weeks away from shooting out the heir to the throne, so she wasn’t there, but Prince William and his bald spot were and so was Pippa Middleton, which isn’t surprising considering that cameras were there. If you ever want to see Pippa in the flesh for some reason, just pull out your camera and she’ll be there. But Pippa did wear this mess on her head:
The hell is that on her head?! It looks like two pigeon skeletons cumming out a pile of coagulated jizz balls. It looks like a silver tarantula foaming at the mouth. I bet the wedding had to be stopped halfway through because a flock of birds broke into the church to save their distressed loved on Pippa’s head. I swear, Pippa always has to make it all about her.
I always knew that on the inside I’m a just young British girl in a shiny purple puffy coat, leggings and Burberry rain boots.
During a charity polo game at The Beaufort Polo Club in Gloucestershire, England, Prince William and Prince Hot Ginge strutted through the field when one of his devoted disciples took a picture of him and then gave birth to a huge ball of excitement right there on the grass. I said in the headline that this is just a natural reaction, but this is actually a pretty subdued reaction to being that close to PHG’s royal bag of treasures. I would’ve prolapsed and dragged my innards across the grass to get PHG to autograph my nipple plate and most hos would’ve been tripping over the ovaries falling out of their snatch to get to him.
So yeah, this girl totally played it cool.
“Why is that flying Kraken carrying a baby in a blanket in its mouth and why is it flying toward Los Angeles?”
Morrissey’s favorite family (sans Prince Philip who’s laid up in a hospital bed) all sprayed their crotches with their finest smelling perfume and put on their fanciest daytime ensembles to celebrate the birthday of the British sovereign at the Trooping the Colour Parade in London today. The parade is also known as THE QUEEN’S Birthday Parade. THE QUEEN’S 72nd annual quinceañera (aka 87th birthday) was actually in April, but she’s THE QUEEN! She can have as many birthday celebration as she wants! (Cut to Morrissey’s anal glands exploding rage juice.) After the parade, the royal family and Camilla all got on the balcony and waved at their subjects. Then afterward, they all went down into the rec room of Buckingham Palace to get drunk on gin from Bargain Booze as Prince Hot Ginge played naked billiards with himself in the corner. Just like my abuelita did at her birthday parties, THE QUEEN cut herself a corner piece of sheet cake and went to her room to watch her stories by herself in peace.
The Daily Mail says that Duchess Kate made her last public appearance before she births out Queen Harryetta Diana (or King Harry Di if it’s a boy). Yes, THIS is what Duchess Kate chose to wear to her last public appearance. That ugly hat looks like it’s shitting out a bunch of pink ribbons. It’s like an Easter nightmare exploded all of her body. How dreadful. And I kind of hope Duchess Kate gives birth in the next couple of days and I hope her baby has a full head of ginger locks and really loves vodka. Because that would mean that Prince Hot Ginge is the father, which would mean that Kate’s face and his face would be on the cover of every magazine instead of Kim’s face. We deserve that.
The ginger crusader for gays exists and has been under our noses (do with that imagine what you will) this entire time! Lance Corporal James Wharton, who trained under Prince Hot Ginge in Canada in 2008, has a book out about being openly gay in the army and he told The Daily Mail about the time PHG saved him from getting brutally attacked by a group of homophobic pieces of trash from a rival regiment. I don’t want to be in the army and I don’t want to be gay bashed again, but if doing both means that PHG will come to my rescue and comfort me, I’ll think about it….
Trooper Wharton says that after six bitch ass soldiers threatened to whoop him for being gay, he told his tank commander PHG about it. Trooper Wharton told PHG exactly what happened and said that he was afraid the soldiers were going to kill him. PHG put his Captain Save-A-Gay hat on and took care of those homophobic whores.
‘I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in my eyes. He said, “Right I’m going to sort this shit out once and for all.”
‘He climbed out of the tank and I poked my head out of the turret a few moments later to see him having a go,’ Wharton said.
Harry, a Troop Commander in the Blues and Royals, confronted the tormentors, warning them they would face severe discipline if they continued their violent threats. ‘I could see he wasn’t holding back,’ said Wharton, who was 21 at the time.
After PHG told those dicks that if they came at Trooper Wharton again he’ll get his grandma to beat them in the throat with her pocketbook, he told his higher-ups what happened.
Trooper Wharton also talked about the time PHG told him that he’s a gay icon!
Harry happened to mention that he and his brother had been told they were gay icons. I laughed and told him that I didn’t think that was the case. He became really adamant saying, “What? What? We are! Our press people told us.”
‘Harry then asked if he couldn’t be a gay icon because he was ginger. It was all very funny.’
Of course PHG is a gay icon. He’s a ginger icon, a human icon, a welfare icon (that was written by Morrissey and not me), a drunk icon, a sex icon and an EVERYTHING icon.
Science should find a way to clone PHG already, because the world would be a much better place if he dropped from the sky every time someone was about to get gay bashed. A hero to us all!
(Thanks to Peter and everybody else who sent this in)