Prince William And Duchess Kate Celebrate Their Victory Over Closer Magazine By Busting Out Some Sweet Moves
Two British royal smackdowns took place today. First, THE QUEEN beat her advisors and travel agents with her pocketbook, because if she took the trip to the Soloman Islands instead of Prince William and Duchess Kate, she would've been the one being carried on a throne by a harem of shirtless man pieces. Second, Prince William and Duchess Kate's lawyers were in court in France this morning to stop Closer from continuing to publish pictures of the royal nipple plates everybody has already seen, and they won.
The BBC says that a French judge ruled that Closer can't print anymore issues with Kate's chichis on them and they have to hand over all digital copies of the pictures. If they don't hand the pictures over within 24 hours, they will be fined 10,000 euros a day. The judge said this after slapping down Closer Magazine and for a much more dramatic effect, read this in Highlander's French accent:
"These snapshots which showed the intimacy of a couple, partially naked on the terrace of a private home, surrounded by a park several hundred metres from a public road, and being able to legitimately assume that they are protected from passers-by, are by nature particularly intrusive."
Closer and the pap who took the pictures both face criminal charges and the French court has hired Inspector Jacques Clouseau to investigate this. The ruling only covers France and doesn't affect Italy's Chi Magazine (they should've temporarily called it Chichis Magazine for this very special edition) and Ireland's Irish Daily Star who both published the pictures. Chi's editor isn't afraid of getting sued, but the editor of the Irish Daily Star has been suspended and the newspaper's co-owner might shut that shit down.
The blurry pictures of Kate's half-risen soufflé titties will live forever on the Internet and in our brains, but I will gladly forget I ever saw them and never speak of them ever again if the royal family makes a fair trade. I'll glamour out the memory of seeing Kate's tits for blurry pictures of Prince Hot Ginge's royal ginger rod taken 300 yards away with a Fisher Price toy camera. Or I'll trade them for a picture of PHG holding a Flaming Hot Cheeto puff on his crotch. I'm not picky. While THE QUEEN thinks over this offer, let's dance (ff to the 2:09 mark):
It's like watching my abuelita try to Vogue after taking one sip of sweet wine. Slay the beat, Willy!
Oh look, that hot bitch of Borneo is making the same face most of us made when looking at Duchess Kate's nipples. It's one of those "And? Can she shoot diamonds out of her nipples, because I am failing to see why tricks are freaking out over this?" looks. That hot bitch of Borneo has its tits out every day and nobody's freaking out over them or splattering them on the cover of Closer Magazine. But they totally should...
Believe it or not, Duchess Kate and her sun-thirsty nipples haven't been banished to gallows for shaming the royal family. Kate and Prince William kept their Tour of Asia going and today they visited a rainforest in Sabah, Borneo. (I know, I didn't know there was a Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse ride in Borneo!) During their visit, William and Kate were hoisted up some tree and my guess is that they were training for the day when they scale down the walls of the base where PHG is staying at to get his ass out of there. Because the Taliban killed two US marines today while trying to get at PHG. In other words: Harry, you in danger, ginge.
Above is Duchess Kate during happier times at reception in Singapore two days ago when she had a touching and intimate moment with a glass of water. "I like you. We have the same personality" is probably what Duchess Kate said to her new best friend. But now Kate's smiley face is a frowny face, because Closer Magazine put her titties on display and she's gonna get those French bitches for it.
Duchess Kate and Prince William lit the canon and shot over a lawsuit to France's Closer for fucking with her privacy by publishing pictures of her nipples-in-waiting. Lawyers for Kate and William are speeding this shit up and their case will be heard in France on Monday. A rep for St. James Palace released this statement and I'll be really disappointed if it wasn't read off of a scroll by a dude with a fluffy feather in his hat:
“Their Royal Highnesses have been hugely saddened to learn that a French publication and a photographer have invaded their privacy in such a grotesque and totally unjustifiable manner. Their Royal Highnesses had every expectation of privacy in the remote house. It is unthinkable that anyone should take such photographs, let alone publish them.”
Apparently, this is a big deal, because the Royal Family barely ever sues the media and they didn't sue anybody for those magical pictures of Prince Hot Ginge in Las Vegas, but they should. We should all file a civil lawsuit against the dumb dumb skank who took those pictures. I mean, how can you have a naked PHG in front of you and a camera phone in your hand and not get an up-close shot of his royal ginger dick rod winking at you? PHG is a British soldier, so to get him to lift his hands off of the ginger goods, just start humming God Save The Queen. He'd have to lift his hands to salute. (No, I'm not above using the UK National Anthem to trick a ginge into exposing the peen.) We should sue the picture taker for not coming up with that.
Here's more of Duchess Kate having a special date with water.
I know, here we were all thinking that the British royals aren't allowed to ever take their clothes off and always wear nipple-to-ankle underwear with cut-out crotch holes for peein' and matin' and that's it, but nope. Seeing Prince Hot Ginge's glorious undercooked pancake ass cheeks, Prince Philip's censored Loch Ness crotch monster and Prince William's NSFW peen busby taught us that the British royals can get nekkid. And now it's Duchess Kate's turn to join the club.
While Duchess Kate sunbathed with her nipples out on a private estate in France, some pap hung upside down from a tree 200 yards away, stuck his 50 foot lens on a potato camera and took blurry pictures of her half-nakedness. Since the British media will be flogged 25 times in the mouth with The Queen's pocketbook if they expose the royal nipples, they declined buying the pics from the pap, so the pap sold them to the French tabloid Closer. The British royal family is disgusted this morning and not because they just watched Camilla slurp cooked oatmeal out of her feedbag while Prince Charles polished her toes with his tongue (a trick he learned from Fergie). They're disgusted because Duchess Kate's privacy was invaded and the BBC says they're considering throwing a lawsuit at the pap and Closer. Closer's editor defended publishing the exclusivité pictures by saying this:
"These photos are not in the least shocking. They show a young woman sunbathing topless, like the millions of women you see on beaches. What we saw in the pictures was a young couple that have just got married, who are in love, who are beautiful. She's a princess of the 21st Century. They [the couple] are on the terrace of a mansion in the south of France which is not far from a road along which cars pass without any problem. They are visible from the street."
Egotastic has a lot of the pictures and there's really nothing scandalous about them. Yes, Duchess Kate has nipples, but you can barely tell that they're nipples. If you told me Duchess Kate and Prince William were playing a strange British royal game where they have to balance extra large Hershey Kisses on their chests and she's in the lead, I'd believe you. And don't think we're going to see THE QUEEN'S nips anytime soon. Right after these pictures went public, QEII called Kate up and said, "Dumb trollop, this is why I always wear union jack pasties. I'll send you a pair."
And here's Prince Willy and Duchess Kate at a mosque in Malaysia this morning. The woman throwing a "BEHOLD! The royal nipples!" look is giving me life.
And nothing grows under shade, which is the opposite of what The Lesbeaver thinks should be happening on Prince William's dome.
Justin Bieber is a come-to-life Beautiful Crissy doll and so he's lucky that he was born with a built-in knob that Selena Gomez turns every time he wants his luscious mane of golden unicorn tails to grow longer. But Justin doesn't understand why everyone wouldn't want a hairy helmet of brown rainbows on their head like his. While talking to something called Rollercoaster Magazine (via Showbiz Spy), the bunny shit-brained baby bimbo threw hate at Prince William's field of stray hairs and asked if they have Propecia in England.
"I mean, there are things to prevent that nowadays, like Propecia. I don't know why he doesn't just get those things, those products. You just take Propecia and your hair grows back. Have you not got it over here?"
Justin is totally right. Prince William needs Propecia or Rogaine or whatever Lucy put on Ricky's head during that hair-growing episode. And when Prince William is done with it, he can give his leftovers to Justin, so Justin can splash some on his Barbie crotch and maybe grow a pube or two.
Here's Prince William, Prince Hot Ginge and Duchess Kate being royal dorks at an Olympic cycling event yesterday. I love that they're wearing ID badges and I'm guessing the only thing on their ID badges, besides a picture, are the words: "Bow down, bitch."
I was going to title that picture "Royal Sword Fight," but that's just wrong and I don't want to think that Prince Hot Ginge partakes in waterfront incest.
Queen Elizabeth II's weekend Diamond Jubilee celebrations (aka Hail To The British Thug Misses) continued today in London when the royal family kept with tradition by getting on a boat decorated with Prince Hot Ginge's shellacked pubes (that's what that gold stuff is right?) and waved to their subjects as the Queen dipped into her pocketbook and threw raw diamonds (bought with taxpayer money) at her people. It's the Queen's way of giving back. It's kind of like when you bought your mom's a Mother's Day gift with her money. It's like that. No, she didn't do that, but she did throw them her smile and that's worth so much more than a pile of diamonds.
If you don't know what the Diamond Jubilee is, it's a celebration to mark the 60th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth II's reign or some shit. In America, we also have a jubilee celebration to honor our queen. We call it Barry Manilow's birthday.
For today's Jubilee River Pageant (I can't believe that's a real thing that exists) down the Thames, The Queen wore her favorite bedazzled church suit. PHG, Prince William and Prince Phillip wore the finest prince costumes found in Disneyland's costume closet, Camilla wore whothefuckcares and Duchess Kate kept it understated in red. Because nothing says "We all know who these bitches are really here to see!" like head-to-knee red.
So far I'm totally disappointed with this Diamond Jubilee celebration. Diamond Jubilee sounds like the gayest thing ever and it's not living up to its name. When is the event where PHG comes out on stage and shakes his pecs while covered in nothing but body glitter and strategically placed rhinestones (a rhinestone covered peen is not considered indecent for public viewing as long as most of the head is covered)? That better be the highlight of Tuesday's ceremony.
The gayfetti is still exploding in my head after Maryland became the latest state for me to become somebody's huzzban' during a drunken ass whim (I'm thinking I'll have a Female Trouble-themed wedding in honor of Baltimore's crown jewel John Waters), and now the gayfetti is exploding down below after my eyes touched this picture of Prince Hot Ginge and Prince William partying their nipples off in a locker room. This shit is totally fake and comes from photographer Alison Jackson who is known for creating lukewarm escandaloso royal scenes using a PHG look-alike and a Prince William look-alike (who also does "Left at the Altar Because I'm An Annoying Bitch Now Let's Eat My Tears Off Of My Wedding Cake" parties as Carrie Bradshaw).
Alison put together this level 6 panty creaming moment for UK Cosmo's 40th anniversary. While I appreciate that Cosmo published this picture next to their article on labia decals (I'm guessing), I CAN'T with them and Alison for putting Prince Fake Ginge's ass cheek in the background. PHG's royal nalgas are the money and fake Prince William's face should be in the background. Actually, fake Prince William should really be on the porcelain throne, because judging by his facial expression his end is about to crowneth a turd, as Queen Elizabeth I always said.
via OUT (Thanks, Seth)
At the beginning of last season's The Real Housewhiners of New York, Jill Zarin nearly OY VEY-ed herself into a puddle of neurotic frustration when both Ramona and Alex showed up to a wedding wearing shades of cream. According to Jill, the wedding etiquette she pulled out of her own ass states that guests should never ever EVER ever wear anything in the white family. It is forbidden by law or some shit. (Question for Jill: But I've been to some weddings where the bride wore jorts, flip flops and an "I'm Marrying Stupid" t-shirt. Does this mean I can't wear jorts and flip flops too? Does this mean I can wear a white wedding gown and veil? Please advise.)
Well, guess who broke the law according to Jill Zarin when she showed up to the wedding of Prince Willy and Hot Ginge's cousin in head-to-toe cream? Okay, it's more like the color of leche con a drop of cafe (or like the color of a post-butt sex condom), but still!
Not only did Kate steal all of the attention away from Zara Phillips by wearing an embroidered corn tortilla coat, but not one guest at the wedding could concentrate on the ceremony. They were all too busy trying to fight the craving for thin crust pizza dough, a round tamale and a poorly made Awesome Blossom while staring at the mess on Kate's head. Making it all about you: Duchess Kate knows how to do it.
And now, instead of wanting to talk about Zara's dress, I want to nibble on an Awesome Blossom wrapped in pizza dough. Kate is good.
Here's a few more pictures from this morning's latest royal hat convention. In order: Duchess Kate with Prince William, Zara with her new husband Mike Tindall, THE QUEEN with her pocketbook, Prince Hot Ginge, Prince Charles, Princess Bea and the Duchess of Cornbread with some Wind of the Willows shit on her head.
Before leaving North America on a COMMERCIAL FLIGHT (it's all their welfare pounds could afford them) yesterday afternoon, Prince William and Duchess Kate spent the morning doing arts shit with a bunch of kids at the Inner City Arts in L.A. They painted pictures of snails, they made handprint plaques and then Prince Willy perfectly ended his trip to California by rolling out a statue of something that I may or may not try to harden in my down low kiln. There are minors in this post, so I'm not going to say anything that will cause Chris Hansen to pull out of his side whore in order to pour me a glass of watered down iced tea.
Let's just say that Prince Willy's art piece isn't a bottom-heavy, wiggly uncut peen, and is simply just his artistic interpretation of what Prince Philip's tongue looks like when The Queen finally puts down her purse (a euphemism: that's one) at the end of the night. Yes, Prince Philip's tongue is shaped just like Jennifer Love Hewitt.
Because the real A-listers and superstars were at the other royal event of the night (The Empress of Lucite's Tupperware and dildo party), Prince William and Duchess Kate had to hang out with the likes of JLo and her mother Guadalupe at last night's BAFTA Brits To Watch event in L.A. JLo was kind enough to pay tribute to Prince William by wearing a bald spot gown that showed off Skeletor's favorite part of her body to do lines of dried virgin blood off of.
Even though Lupe Lopez slipped on the lard of elegance that dripped off of JLo, not everyone was hypnotized by her beauty. That gold BAFTA mask is definitely frowning with his eyes, because he's about 2 inches away from losing his nose to JLo's hongray hongray culo.
And hopefully, JLo's taste for exquisite cut-outs inspired Kate Middleton to bring The Slut Dress out of retirement and onto the royal stage.