Royals

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

According to Showbiz Spy, the lovely, petite, not-bloated-and-saggy-at-all flower known as Courtney Love has been unceremoniously plucked from the garden of Henry Allsopp (godson of Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall) while she was trying to get her roots on. The source says she moved in with him last November after they'd been slobbering on each other for about a month, but his family freaked the hell out so he Weed-Be-Gone'd that bitch.

I can't imagine why the royal family would not welcome the eternally elegant Courtney with open arms, but alas the title of Lady Love eludes her. She said that “These days I’m only interested in plutocrats,” which makes sense because you know there are SO many billionaires who would love to put a fresh daisy like Court in their lapel. You fluff up those petals and go, girl!

The happening of Pippa Middleton has stepped up its game since she became single and now it's added a new strain. Specifically, a ginger strain that causes rigor mortis in the nipples and leaks in the genitals. In news that is about as expected as me writing "leaks in the genitals," UsWeekly put Prince Hot Ginge and Pippa Middleton together on their cover this week. Now, I know this should make me bust into a flailing ball of rage and perform the one-bitch version of Falling Down in my own apartment (my dog will play the Robert Duvall role) but this is just one of those silicone chest cutlet covers! You know, on the outside they look like a pair of organic chichis sprouted from nature, but it's a different story on the inside.

Jezebel says that the outside of UsWeekly's cover screams OMGPIPPAANDHARRYAREFUCKING but on the inside it says that they've never been on a date and PHG is actually back with that South African sloppy slut Chelsy Davy! But this isn't going to stop tabloids from putting PHG and Pippa together without actually putting them together, so let me help them out by speeding this wishful thinking relationship up!

Issue Date: July 6, 2011
Cover headline: Prince Harry's Romantic Late-Night Movie Date With "Pippa"
Story: A source close to Prince Harry exclusively tells Us that the world's most eligible royal bachelor came home from the pub late one night and turned on the telly to find Pippi Longstocking playing. "Prince Harry was completely charmed by the movie and said that the name 'Pippi' sounds just like the name 'Pippa.' Harry said that he's going to call Pippa 'Pippa Longstocking' from now on. When he laughed, I could tell he was thinking about her," said the source. A rep for Pippa could not be reached for comment.

Issue Date: August 3, 2011
Cover headline: Inside Prince Harry & Pippa's Intimate Fantasy Wedding! "The bride looked gorgeous!"
Story: Prince Harry and Pippa Middleton stand side by side at a wedding....for their mutual friend's dogs! A witness tells Us, "At one point during the reception, the pug groom had a little accident on Prince Harry's arm. Pippa immediately grabbed a paper towel and cleaned it up for him. Pippa's hand lingered for a moment." E-mails and phone calls to the bride and groom's representatives were not returned by press time.

Issue Date: September 7, 2011
Cover headline: Prince Harry & Pippa's SHOCKING SPLIT!
Story: During a get together at Prince William and Duchess Catherine's apartment at Kensington Palace, Pippa Middleton ate a spoon full of Prince Harry's banana split. This was uncharacteristic for Pippa since there's been whispers among royal sources that she's lactose intolerant. "I was bored. It was a Friday. Leave me alone!," said the intern who wrote this story.

There we go!!! A date, wedding and break-up cover to take us through summer! Now we can go back to thinking Pippa is just a lispy Bostonian's way of saying pepper. And for those of us who know what's good, we can go back to fapping to Prince Hot Ginge without Pippa's face cock blocking us!