Royals

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.

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.

Prince Hot Ginge can no longer tiptoe into his grammy's bed chambers in the middle of the night to sneak a few quid (I'm speakin' British!) out of the pocketbook she clutches onto when she sleeps, because there's not going to be anything in there anymore! The sport of extreme couponing is calling The Queen's name, because her pay for being THE QUEEN!!! has been frozen until 2015 and she'll only be given $50 million of taxpayers' money to pay for travel expenses and palace upkeep. NPR says that Prince Charles will have to reach into his own pocket to pay for Princess (serious typo and it's not moving) William and Duchess Catherine's household staff. GOD (in the form of a sale at Tesco) SAVE THE QUEEN!

NPR reports that shit is getting so dire that the Queen is considering renting out rooms at St. James Palace during the Olympics next year. HA. St. James Palace is turning into a flophouse. Can't you just imagine coming down the stairs late at night to drink tap water from the kitchen faucet and you see your landlady, Queen Elizabeth, sipping canned wine from Bargain Booze while knitting mittens out of her Corgis' hair to sell on Etsy. Book me a room, now.

And before you go on and on about how Queen Elizabeth is nothing but a welfare leach, stop yourself. If England wants Queen Elizabeth to show up to stupid weddings and national events, they have to pay to play. Queen Elizabeth does not change out of her housecoat for her health. I mean, my abuelita refused to come out of her bedroom for my birthday party unless I promised her the corner piece of my sheet cake. #getmoneyqueen!

Or England can just fire Queen Elizabeth completely and replace her as the "Face of England" with Jodie Marsh, because that trick will work for bootleg HGH injections and a box of gently used condoms.

Duchess Kate is ripping out whatever hair is left on her husband's head this morning, because her reign as the most famous royal bride of the year came to a crashing end as soon as the mummified Rhea Perlman who was brought back to life with an air kiss from Voldemort floated above a dirt aisle at her wedding in Sevilla, Spain today. Fuck your life, Kate, because today the Duchess of Alba got all the points by wearing a stunning gown made by Chico himself using her crib skirt from the turn-of-the-century and the green ribbon she snatched out of Luke's hand right before she turned him into a mouse. The Duchess of Alba's guests would've gasped but they were told to keep their mouths closed for the entire ceremony, because there was a good chance she would've transformed into a funnel of smoke and entered their body to eat their souls from the inside/out.

HOLA! Magazine is pleased to report that 85-year-old (suck in your eyeballs for 5 seconds.... and release)

María del Rosario Cayetana Paloma Alfonsa Victoria Eugenia Fernanda Teresa Francisca de Paula Lourdes Antonia Josefa Fausta Rita Castor Dorotea Santa Esperanza Fitz-James Stuart, Silva, Falcó y Gurtubay

became (suck in your eyeballs for 6 seconds.... and release)

María del Rosario Cayetana Paloma Alfonsa Victoria Eugenia Fernanda Teresa Francisca de Paula Lourdes Antonia Josefa Fausta Rita Castor Dorotea Santa Esperanza Fitz-James Stuart, Silva, Falcó y Gurtubay Diez

today when she married her 61-year-old commoner love toy Alfonso Diez at one of her castles in Spain in front of almost all of her six ungrateful children (her ungrateful bitch of a daughter came down with chickenpox so she couldn't make it). These are the same ungrateful bitch children who would not bless the Duchess of Alba's marriage until she gave them all of her billion dollar fortune to prove to them that Alfonso was not marrying her for money. Alfonso was obviously marrying the glorious duchess, because when the rapture comes next year the great swarm of locusts will not come near him if he's standing behind their queen! But those dumb children did not know this.

Alfonso, who is now known as the Duke of Alba, already signed away any right to the House of Alba should his beautiful love affair with the duchess end. But for now, the Duchess of Alba kicked off her sensible Easy Spirit flats and danced in the streets to celebrate the gods accepting her love with Alfonso. Did that bland bitch Kate Middleton do that? I think not.

Congratulations to the most regal dandelion in the royal garden and allow me to end this post with these words for the duchess:

De mayo de Alfonso Diez suavemente la joroba del brillante polvo zombie de por eternidades, o hasta que la tierra Klingons en la tierra para volver a su planeta de origen. A ustedes, mis BELLEZA! Ahora, conseguir que los jóvenes polla!

And in case you're not fluent in Google Español :

May Alfonso Diez gently hump the sparkly zombie dust out of you for eternities to come or until the Klingons land on earth to take you back to your home planet. TO YOU, MY BEAUTY! Now, get that young dick!

Or maybe that's a "Shit, I left the 8-ball in my other clutch!" side-eye.

While the likes of Shirley Bassey and Victoria Silvstedt rolled their eye balls, Prince Albert and his prisoner bride Princess Charlene held court at Monaco's Red Cross Ball on Friday night, which also looked like a competition between the ladies on who could show up in the shittiest gown that was purged from the asshole of a Windsor Fashions (SPOILER ALERT: Charlene wins!).

Never mind that Charlene's gown looks like it has weights at the bottom so she can't run when her warden husband isn't looking, she's getting a lot better at faking it in the face. Sure, most of the time Charlene has the same look on her face as a lesbian would have if she had to put her mouth on a soft dick, but at least she's trying. In some of the pictures, she doesn't totally look like a string of vomit is rubbing against her tonsils as her eyes silently sing "fuuuuuck myyyyyyyy liiiiiife" on a loop. Spending her days studying Stepford Katie's manufactured smile has paid off, because Princess Charlene's acting is getting better.

But if I was Princess Charlene, I wouldn't be wasting my time with studying Katie's smile or attending stupid ass balls. I'd be trying to fill my uterus with an heir. I'd command all of Prince Albert's paid whores (both male and female) to lie down in a line. Then one by one, I'd squat over their mouths and tell them to cough hard, hoping that some of Prince Albert's cum mist gets in there and knocks me up. The faster Charlene gets knocked up, the faster her shackles get cut off and she can collect that check (I think).

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.

In front of the likes of Naomi Campbell, Princess Stephanie, Victoria Silvstedt and Kunty Karl, Prince Albert of Monaco married Charlene Wittstock in a religious ceremony yesterday afternoon. The rumor that Kunty Karl will turn into small pile of crushed bright white dead nightmares if he even makes half of a sashay into a church is obviously just that, because he was able to sit through the entire ceremony without God's angel army dragging him away.

The royal family obviously brought in the sexiest member of the Death Eaters to make sure that Charlene's ass didn't head for LE EXIT. There was talk that Charlene's passport was snatched away when she tried to pull some runaway bride shit by flying back to South Africa after she found out that Prince Albert has take a paternity test, because there's a good chance the bald man slut of Europe made a third love child with some Italian chick. Every time Charlene's eyes cut to the exit, Kunty Karl threatened to chew on her soul by making a sucking sound with his teeth. I guess Charlene figured that selling her soul to Monaco was better than her soul getting trapped around one of Kunty Karl's crushed bone hair follicles, because she actually married Prince Albert!

You wouldn't be lying if you said that Charlene looks like she would rather be marrying the OTHER Prince Albert. You know, the one who's a soft pierced dick. Instead of hearing the wedding march, you know Charlene heard the sounds of prisoners running tin cups along prison bars. Not since Stepford Katie....

Well, if you're going to put in shackles, it might as well be made of diamonds and shit.

In honor of what would have been Princess Diana's 50th birthday on Friday, Newsweek pulled out the Photoshop zombie tool and brought her back to life on their cover next to Duchess Kate. I'd like to call this Newsweek's annual "....The Fuck Is This?" cover. If Kate Middleton didn't always have twirling crowns in her eyes, she wouldn't be making smiles at Zombie Diana, that's for damn sure.

I once made out with my piece in the parking lot of a church where a relative's funeral was taking place (AND I wore white socks with black shoes), so I am the last person who should ever comment on shit being tasteless, but really?! Newsweek also knighted itself as Sir Fuckery by including an extra long "What if?" article by Tina Brown, which asks the question no one was asking: What would Princess Diana's life be like today?

One thing I do know is that if Princess Diana was alive today she sure as hell wouldn't be wearing a rattan plate charger from Pier 1 as a hat! And hasn't Prince Hot Ginge been through enough*?!!

And coming soon from Newsweek: If dinosaurs were alive today, would we dress them up in tutus and take them to the groomer to get their anuses bleached?

* Yes, by enough I mean me constantly cyber slobbering all over his ginger scepter any chance I get.

via Entertainment Weekly