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.
Not only did St. Angie Jolie meet fellow home wrecking legend Duchess Camilla in London today (Side note: What in Little House on the Prairie cosplay HELL is Camilla wearing?), but she also got honored by THE QUEEN! St. Angie’s in London to co-host the week-long Global Summit to End Sexual Violence in Conflict and since she was there, THE QUEEN figured that she might as well throw an honor her way since God, Jesus, all the apostles, the Academy, and pretty much everybody else on Earth has already honored her. I don’t know if there was a ceremony or anything, but I doubt, because THE QUEEN would rather spend her time doing other things like watching screeners of the upcoming season of TOWIE while eating melted ice cream in her underwear.
After St. Angie was named an honorary Dame by THE QUEEN for services to UK foreign policy and campaigning to end sexual violence in war zones, she released this statement:
“To receive an honour related to foreign policy means a great deal to me, as it is what I wish to dedicate my working life to. Working on PVSI and with survivors of rape is an honour in itself. I know that succeeding in our goals will take a lifetime, and I am dedicated to it for all of mine.”
St. Angie’s not a British citizen, so she can’t be called a Dame, but like she gives a shit. She’s already got the title of SAINT!
Daniel Day-Lewis is now Sir Daniel Day-Lewis, because he was knighted. Maggie Smith and Damian Lewis were also honored.
St. Angie is already Queen of the Saints and the Moon and the Stars, so it was only a matter of time before she became a Dame (in spirit at least). But what I want to know is, where are the priorities of the people who chooses the next Dames and Sirs? I mean, how is it possible that Maggie Smith, Daniel Day-Lewis, St. Angie Jolie and dozens of others are honored by THE QUEEN and England’s greatest treasure and finest rose Jodie Marsh isn’t? Jodie Marsh should be a three-time Dame for her contribution to British elegance and grace. People should be rioting in the streets over that shit.
Here’s more pictures of St. Angie meeting Camilla and also some pictures of St. Angie and
Robert Evans Brad Pitt at an End Sexual Violence in Conflict event.
The only German I know I learned from that scene in European Vacation where the German girl shows Rusty her tits, but I’m pretty sure “für dieses” means “DAT AZZ” in English.
During Duchess Kate and Prince William’s government-paid vacation through New Zealand and Australia, a photographer caught a glimpse of her ass cheeks as the wind lifted up her dress while she walked to a helicopter in Sydney. I’m blaming it on the wind, but maybe she just let out an extra strong royal ass queef? Anyway, the German tabloid Bild published the picture of Duchess Kate’s unbuttered crumpets this morning next to pictures of Khloezilla’s Sasquatch butt and Kim Kartrashian’s butt looking like an extra large diaper full of soil jelly. The British media (read: basically just The Daily Mail) is outraged! The Daily Mail called Bild’s headlines “tasteless,” which is like me calling the trick next to me at the glory hole a cheap, desperate slut whore as I suck off a random semi-flaccid peen. The Daily Mail thinks it’s a breach of privacy:
A German newspaper has risked a royal upset by publishing a photograph of the Duchess of Cambridge’s bare bottom.
The picture was taken during Kate’s recent tour of Australia when a gust of wind briefly caught her dress – and her flimsy underwear did not offer much protection.
Now tabloid newspaper Bild am Sonntag has published the image beneath a series of tasteless headlines.
It ran the photograph alongside pictures of US reality television star Kim Kardashian and her sister Khloe, famed for their shapely bottoms, with the caption: ‘Khloe, Kim and Kate – backsides which have moved us these past few days.’ The breach of privacy comes less than two years after the Duke and Duchess launched legal action against a French magazine that printed topless photographs of Kate on holiday.
As the wind from the helicopter’s rotor blades lifted Kate’s £295 Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dress, an opportunistic photographer captured the moment and touted it around international newspapers. It was reportedly sold to the ‘highest bidder’ after British papers refused to print it. First published in the Bild’s Sunday paper, it also appeared on its website, accompanied by crude captions. Beside the offending picture were the words: ‘Thank the wind for the insight into the royal household.
The drama of it all! It’s just ass cheeks.
The Daily Mail is a mess, because you know they’d post a picture of Peter Andre’s prostate if they got a picture of Peter Andre’s prostate. It’s not like the pictures are of Duchess Kate washing her ass in her own shower and it’s not like Bild got the pictures from a hidden camera that a handyman they paid off installed in Prince William’s shaving mirror. Duchess Kate’s ass cheeks were out in the open.
But you know, maybe the Daily Mail isn’t being that dramatic, because I’m sure THE QUEEN is going to beat a bitch for this. The only person allowed to see Duchess Kate’s ass is THE QUEEN and she only saw it that one time when she examined Kate’s body to make sure Kate was birthing body ready before she could approve Prince William’s engagement. Not even Prince William has seen Duchess Kate’s ass. They only do it missionary-style. THE QUEEN is going to put a brick in her pocketbook and hit Kate’s stylist in the mouth. Then she’s going to use that stylist’s knocked-out teeth, along with some coins, to weigh down Kate’s dresses so this never happens again! Then THE QUEEN will destroy everyone and everything involved including Germany and the wind in Australia.
If that polar vortex (which sounds like a fancy name for one of Nicole Kidman’s queefs) has put a thick layer of ice on your b-hole, then take those chonies off and warm it on Prince Hot Ginge’s fire beard while you still can. Because The Express (via Jezebel) has heard from “royal sources” (aka that gossiping, shady whore Camilla) that THE QUEEN hates the fiery field of ginger hairs all over Prince Hot Ginge’s face and has ordered him to take a razor to it. The Queen thinks beards look scruffy and she doesn’t let any member of her palace staff grow one. The Queen has even been known to pull tweezers out of her pocket book and pluck the thick stache hairs above Camilla’s mouth during dinner. No face hair for THE QUEEN! PHG knows that his memaw wants the beard gone, but he’s waiting to show it to his piece Cressida Boners before he gets rid of it. (Translation: PHG wants his piece to brush her coochie lips with his beard before he gets rid of it.) The royal source said this:
“The rest of the family liked it and were taking the mickey, especially his cousin Zara who dubbed him ‘Prince Hairy.’ But the Queen soon let her displeasure be known. She doesn’t mind royal men growing beards when they are away in the Armed Forces or out in the wilds like Harry was in the Antarctic, but she expects them to be clean-shaven when they get home. Royal staff are not supposed to grow beards or moustaches and she probably thinks it is difficult to enforce that rule when her own grandson has a beard. Harry doesn’t like to upset the Queen and will probably shave it off soon but he is still a bit of a rebel and he wasn’t going to remove it straight away. He wanted to show it off to Cressida first and see what she thought of it.”
With that beard, PHG sort of looks like a failed pro baseball player turned shady bail bondsman who turned to the bottle after his second marriage ended and regularly gets kicked out of bars for pissing on the floor and making out with the jukebox. What I’m saying is that the beard is hot, but now that I know that THE QUEEN hates it, it’s even hotter. Defy THE QUEEN with that beard, PHG!
And I am only okay with PHG shaving his beard off if he sells the hair on eBay. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to sell everything I have to buy his shaved-off beard hair and I have to do a little research on how to make anal beads out of shaved-off beard hair.
And if you don’t celebrate Christmas, then Prince Hot Ginge’s piping hot beard would like to wish you a Merry Wednesday!
But if you do celebrate the day we all get each other gift cards to Bed, Bath and Beyond, because we just CAN’T with shopping, then you might be drunk from guzzling down gallons of sweet nectar and processed sugar to deal with spending a full day indoors with your family. Grab another bottle, sit back and roast your chestnuts on the open fire growing on Prince Hot Ginge’s beautiful face. That ginger neck beard could give Lucifer the sweats.
PHG, Prince William, Duchess Kate, Prince Charles, Princess Beatrice, Duchess Cumilla, some other royal whores and THE QUEEN all took their asses to The Church of St Mary Magdalene for Christmas Day service today. Little Prince George didn’t come, because Prince Philip was there, so they already had a baldie who’d fall asleep, cry out of boredom, slobber and fart. They didn’t need two.
And seeing Prince William touch Prince Hot Ginge’s glorious, luscious hairy beard of fire makes me think to myself, “Prince William’s finger: I’d hit it until his nail popped off.”
Pics: AP, Splash
And no, I’m not talking about Prince Hot Ginge for once. I’m talking about THE QUEEN’S purse!
Here’s the official pictures from Prince George’s royal christening taken by world-renowned photographer Olan Mills and in every picture THE QUEEN’S in, so is her most trusted friend in the world: her pocketbook. Do you really think THE QUEEN is going to leave her purse on a table somewhere out of her eyesight? If you think she should’ve been separated from her purse for these pictures, then you don’t know the royal family. They are a bunch of thieving, shifty bitches who would steal a queef out of a snatch if they needed one. If THE QUEEN left her purse out for one second, Prince Hot Ginge would go through it and steal her little bottles of malt liquor. If she left her purse out for two seconds, Prince Charles would steal her poppers. If she left her purse out for three seconds, Camilla would steal her bag of sugar cubes (which she throws in Camilla’s mouth whenever she feels that trick is talking too much). So THE QUEEN always keeps her purse close to her. The first rule of Abuelita Club is NEVER be more than 1 foot away from your purse, because your family members are sneaky whores and they will steal from you the same way the royal family steals from their subjects. Keep that purse close and slap any tramp that touches it.
Here’s more of the royal family looking like melting candle people while posing in the ugliest suite at the Marriott. I know I said this yesterday, but I need to say it again: Prince George’s gown is flawless and I’m sure Andre Leon Talley is having a copy made right now. Sorry, ALT, but you just don’t have the pudgy, short, tiny baby arms needed to work that lace gown like PG does.
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.
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.
In case you couldn’t tell from the fact that THE QUEEN always looks like a giant chunk of a rainbow and her hats are gayer than a flower poodle, she’s all for marriage equality and today she gave same-sex marriage the royal stamp of approval! Let them eat cock and cooch!
The NYDN says that yesterday Parliament said “YAAASSSS!” to a bill that makes marriage legal for everyone in England and Wales. Getting THE QUEEN’s royal approval was just a formality and they wanted to give her a reason to dress her Corgis up like rainbows.
Starting next summer, everybody in England and Wales will be able to get married in a civil and/or religious ceremony. England and Wales already allowed civil partnerships, so any couple that wants to add a layer of doom to their relationship can convert their civil partnership to marriage.
“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.