Or maybe, their official royal title is: Duke and Duchess of SucksToBeYouWhores. I can’t remember which one THE QUEEN went with.
I’m currently standing outside of a Best Buy waiting for the Geek Squad to open, and that could mean only one thing: I need to get my TV fixed because I charged at it, knocking it off the wall after the Archbishop of Canterbury Tales asked if anyone objects to this union. Or at least I think he said that. It could’ve been a case of wishful thinking mixed with sleep deprivation on my part. But it is official: Duchess Meghan (née Rachel Meghan Markle) became my idol/forever object of my jealousy, because not only does she get to jump on Prince Hot Ginge’s fiery royal crotch scepter on the regular, but she now she gets to do it as his legally wedded spouse.
After what felt like centuries of fashion tricks and beyond trying to figure out who would design Meghan Markle’s wedding dress, we finally found out seconds after she stepped out of the car today. It wasn’t Stella McCartney. Or Ralph & Russo. Or Erdem. Or the ten million other designers whose name were thrown out. You might’ve looked at her dress and thought to yourself, “Looks like J. Crew had a bridal sale I didn’t hear about.” But it was actually designed by British designer Clare Waight Keller for Givenchy.
— Kensington Palace (@KensingtonRoyal) May 19, 2018
And Meghan was smart not to wear a giant ass ball gown, because that way her estranged attention whore half-siblings couldn’t smuggle in. Well played, Meghan!
Today is the day, everyone. Are you about as excited as that dog who looks like they’d rather be tossing a cat’s salad on a fireworks barge as Michael Vick blows a whistle in their ear? That dog may or may not be the one Meghan left in Canada who is filled to the top of his head with the potent sads because he doesn’t get to spend his nights sniffing Prince Hot Ginge’s crotch and isn’t living that opulent royal life. Cruel.
It is two-thirty-in-the-fucking-morning on a Saturday, and usually at this time, I’d be drunkenly crying myself to sleep with Entenmann’s chocolate cake crumbs on my mouth after binge-batching Forensic Files. But on this Saturday morning, I’m soberly crying myself awake with Entenmann’s chocolate cake crumbs on my mouth while watching Meghan Markle marry Prince Hot Ginge, who I thought would always stay single just to give us delusional, miserable, lonely sadlings some hope. He’s so selfish. So selfish.
This is the royal wedding Open Post, where for the next 96 hours, which is about how long all the festivities will last, you can all talk about the dress, drag the guests and count how many eye rolls Prince George produces while I just sit here screaming, “WHY MEEEEEE?” in the corner. The drinking game is: every time a sparkle shines from Prince Hot Ginge’s eye while looking at Meghan, drink a shot of your own tears!
As for Meghan’s dress, “royal experts” think she’ll wear one of these designers:
- Ralph & Russo
- Stella McCartney
- Roland Mouret
Personally, I think she’ll wear a gorgeous red gown that was dyed with the blood of her Ginge-obsessing haters whose hearts broke over her taking him off the market. Damn you, Meghan!
Here’s a live feed of the wedding if you need one:
And here’s more scenes from outside Windsor Castle today and yesterday, including the most unenthusiastic royal wedding goer. That’ll be Prince Philip all through the ceremony:
The clock tower is about to ring noon. There is an audible gasp from inside St. George’s Chapel. In walks a stunning creature dressed in thousands of dollars worth of custom couture. Guests can be heard whispering, “I can’t believe it” and “So gorgeous.” And then as they approach the soft light from the prettiest stained-glass window, he says, “Yes, it’s me, Oscar-winning actor George Clooney. But really folks, it’s not my day, let’s keep the attention on the bride.” Then he winks to The Queen, and motions to Duchess Kate that he’ll catch her after the ceremony for an autograph. I’m sure that’s how it’s already playing out in George Clooney’s mind when he attends the royal wedding tomorrow.
There was a rumor that George and Amal Clooney would be on the guest list for Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s wedding. A source tells People that rumor is true. The source says Meghan and Amal were introduced to a mutual friend and have been pals ever since Meghan moved from the U.S. to the U.K. in November. Apparently they share “many interests.”
Not only did George and Amal get a wedding invite, but they’re also part of the super-exclusive 200 people who get to party at the private evening. They only live 30 minutes away from Windsor.
George and Amal love a red carpet and cameras. So this means they’ll take their sweet time upon arrival and cause the whole thing to be delayed by at least 2 hours. Jesus, as if the lead-up to this wedding needs to be dragged out any longer!
Meghan Markle met Prince Charles about 90 seconds ago (okay, eight months ago, if you picky bitches really want to get technical), but yet I guess she felt close enough to him to ask him to escort her to Prince Hot Ginge (read: she shrugged like, “okay“, when the royal family told her he was going to walk her ass down the aisle). And you know Prince Charles is going to stop halfway through in front of Prince Philip and do that “pull my finger” move. Those geezers can’t help it.
When Thomas Markle found a surefire way to get out of a wedding (tip: if you want to get out of going to a boring wedding, get heart surgery), the royal family and whoever the British royal version of Jennifer Lopez in The Wedding Planner is had to figure out who’s going to walk Meghan down the aisle. The obvious choice was her mom Doria Ragland, because they’re close and it’d be a MODERN start to this MODERN wedding. (“Bitch, please!” – said Queen Victoria who walked two of her daughters down the aisle.) And some thought that Meghan may make a statement by walking herself down the aisle. Kensington Palace announced today that her future father-in-law and Lady Elaine Fairchild’s long-lost twin brother, Prince Charles, will do the job.
Yesterday morning, Meghan Markle’s dad Thomas Markle had his chest opened up and his heart operated on in a hospital in Rosarito, Mexico. He was well enough to talk to TMZ shortly after going through major fucking surgery, so that’s a good sign, I guess. But even though Thomas is well enough to talk to his new BFF Harvey Levin, he’s obviously not well enough to sit in coach for a 10+ hour flight to London. I say coach, because you know THE QUEEN isn’t about to open up her pocketbook and pull out coins to upgrade a trashy American traitor who has stained her family’s pristine image of never ever selling each other out or acting a mess. NEVER!
Since any royal news isn’t official until it’s hear ye hear ye’d out by the modern day version of the town crier (read: Twitter), Kensington Palace tweeted a note from Meghan where she confirmed that the father she’s always “cared” for isn’t going to her wedding. Yes, she said “cared” and not “loved.” There really hasn’t been nearly enough stories about this fucking wedding, so it’s a good thing she used “cared” in her statement, because now we’ll get 12,000 think pieces about that. Yay!