I hope he fucks off for good once the press about his book is done because if i see his face on my tv one more time i will fucking riot
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I did manage to catch her blow job girl at Chi - or was it the National - anyway it was superNo- luckily, we've never seen it or any of the other shit she may have been in
I've just thrown my tea back up.Still, despite the mounting stress, the terrible pressure, we managed to protect our essential bond, never snapping at each other during those few days. As we came to the final hours of her visit, we were solid, happy, and Meg announced she wanted to make me a special goodbye lunch. There was nothing in my fridge, as usual. But there was a Whole Foods down the street. I gave her directions, the safest route, past the Palace guards, turn right, towards Kensington Palace Gardens, down to Kensington High Street, there’s a police barrier, take a right and you’ll see Whole Foods. It’s massive, you can’t miss it. I had an engagement but I’d be home soon.
Baseball cap, jacket, head down, side gate. You’ll be fine, I promise.
Two hours later, when I got home, I found her inconsolable. Sobbing. Shaking. What is it? What’s happened? She could barely get the story out.
She’d dressed just as I’d advised, and she’d run happily, anonymously, up and down the supermarket aisles. But as she rode the escalator a man approached. Excuse me, do you know where the exit is? Oh, yes, I think it’s just up here to the left. Hey! You’re on that program—Suits, am I right? My wife loves you. Oh. That’s so nice! Thanks. What’s your name? Jeff. Nice to meet you, Jeff. Please tell her I said thanks for watching. I will. Can I get a picture…you know, for my mum? Thought you said it was your wife. Oh. Yeah. Heh. Sorry, I’m just grocery shopping today. His face changed. Well, even if I can’t take a picture WITH you…that doesn’t stop me taking pictures OF you! He whipped out his phone and followed her to the deli counter, snapping away while she looked at the turkey. F the turkey, she thought, hurrying to the checkouts. He followed her there too. She got into the queue. Before her were rows and rows of magazines and newspapers, and on all of them, under the most shocking and disgusting headlines…was her. The other customers noticed as well. They looked at the magazines, looked at her, and now they too pulled out their phones, like zombies. Meg caught two cashiers sharing a horrible smile. After paying for her groceries, she walked outside, straight into a group of four men with their iPhones aimed at her. She kept her head down, rushed up Kensington High Street. She was nearly home when a horse-drawn carriage came rolling out of Kensington Palace Gardens. Some sort of parade: the Palace gate was blocked. She was forced back along the main road, where the four men picked up the scent again, and chased her all the way to the main gate, screaming her name. When she finally got inside Nott Cott, she’d phoned her best girlfriends, each of whom asked: Is he worth this, Meg? Is anyone worth this? I put my arms around her, said I was sorry. So sorry. We just held each other, until I slowly became aware of the most delicious smells. I looked around. Hang on. You mean…after all that…you still made lunch? I wanted to feed you before I left.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Me neither!Am I the only person in the world who'd never heard of suits or watched it. I think I'm going to drown in my own vomit reading this
I had to channel my inner Alice Evans for that opening statement, which means that the rest of the evening is a complete write-off!!Pure gold
Our dinner guests were my cousin Euge, her boyfriend Jack, and my mate Charlie. The salmon turned out perfectly and everyone complimented Meg on her culinary talents. They also devoured her stories. They wanted to hear all about Suits. And her travels. I was grateful for their interest, their warmth. The wine was as good as the company, and there was plenty of it, and after dinner we moved into the snug, put on music and silly hats, and danced. I have a fuzzy memory, and a grainy video on my phone, of Charlie and me rolling on the floor while Meg sat nearby laughing. Then we got into the tequila. I remember Euge hugging Meg, as if they were sisters. I remember Charlie giving me a thumbs-up. I remember thinking: If meeting the rest of my family goes like this, we’re home free. But then I noticed that Meg was feeling poorly. She complained of an upset stomach and looked terribly pale. I thought: Uh-oh, lightweight. She took herself off to bed. After a nightcap I saw our guests out and tidied up a bit. I got into bed around midnight and crashed out, but I woke at two A.M. to hear her in the bathroom, being sick, truly sick, not the drunken sick I’d imagined. Something else was going on. Food poisoning. She revealed that she’d had squid for lunch at a restaurant. British calamari! Mystery solved. From the floor she said softly: Please tell me you’re not having to hold back my hair while I’m vomiting. Yes. I am. I rubbed her back and eventually put her to bed. Weak, near tears, she said she’d imagined a very different end to Date Four. Stop, I said. Taking care of each other? That’s the point. That’s love, I thought, though I managed to keep the words inside.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
He’s a raging narc or boderline personality disorder. I’m now convinced that they’re perfect for each other. Saves the rest of humanity from being in relationships with them.I can’t believe he’s written about his wife and their sex life - who does that? Any normal person would be mortified about what has been published but he clearly has no inhibitions and no boundaries. Personality disorder much?
Lol for best impact say then with a totally straight serious face. Fortunately working in Hollywood for several years forced me to get very creative with my analogies to describe various levels of stupidity.When we meet someone like that, my husband and I will ask each other "How does he not fall over more?" But now I am going to use your shower and tshirt analogies!
It's always fucking suits. Do I need to buy the box set?Our dinner guests were my cousin Euge, her boyfriend Jack, and my mate Charlie. The salmon turned out perfectly and everyone complimented Meg on her culinary talents. They also devoured her stories. They wanted to hear all about Suits. And her travels. I was grateful for their interest, their warmth. The wine was as good as the company, and there was plenty of it, and after dinner we moved into the snug, put on music and silly hats, and danced. I have a fuzzy memory, and a grainy video on my phone, of Charlie and me rolling on the floor while Meg sat nearby laughing. Then we got into the tequila. I remember Euge hugging Meg, as if they were sisters. I remember Charlie giving me a thumbs-up. I remember thinking: If meeting the rest of my family goes like this, we’re home free. But then I noticed that Meg was feeling poorly. She complained of an upset stomach and looked terribly pale. I thought: Uh-oh, lightweight. She took herself off to bed. After a nightcap I saw our guests out and tidied up a bit. I got into bed around midnight and crashed out, but I woke at two A.M. to hear her in the bathroom, being sick, truly sick, not the drunken sick I’d imagined. Something else was going on. Food poisoning. She revealed that she’d had squid for lunch at a restaurant. British calamari! Mystery solved. From the floor she said softly: Please tell me you’re not having to hold back my hair while I’m vomiting. Yes. I am. I rubbed her back and eventually put her to bed. Weak, near tears, she said she’d imagined a very different end to Date Four. Stop, I said. Taking care of each other? That’s the point. That’s love, I thought, though I managed to keep the words inside.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
She was crap on University Challenge - mirrored others' answers, don't recall her getting one answer herself or contribute in any meaningful way - certainly no general knowledge mastermind. One-trick pony.I won't give the race-baiting cunt any credit whatsoever.
What the fuck have I just read?! Was he really talking about his mother lips and his penis in the same sentence ? I honestly can’t I have no wordsI'm sorry; I know I'm like an 8 year old who just discovered the F word but I can't stop!
View attachment 1872212
Again, no one has ever seen any of these photosStill, despite the mounting stress, the terrible pressure, we managed to protect our essential bond, never snapping at each other during those few days. As we came to the final hours of her visit, we were solid, happy, and Meg announced she wanted to make me a special goodbye lunch. There was nothing in my fridge, as usual. But there was a Whole Foods down the street. I gave her directions, the safest route, past the Palace guards, turn right, towards Kensington Palace Gardens, down to Kensington High Street, there’s a police barrier, take a right and you’ll see Whole Foods. It’s massive, you can’t miss it. I had an engagement but I’d be home soon.
Baseball cap, jacket, head down, side gate. You’ll be fine, I promise.
Two hours later, when I got home, I found her inconsolable. Sobbing. Shaking. What is it? What’s happened? She could barely get the story out.
She’d dressed just as I’d advised, and she’d run happily, anonymously, up and down the supermarket aisles. But as she rode the escalator a man approached. Excuse me, do you know where the exit is? Oh, yes, I think it’s just up here to the left. Hey! You’re on that program—Suits, am I right? My wife loves you. Oh. That’s so nice! Thanks. What’s your name? Jeff. Nice to meet you, Jeff. Please tell her I said thanks for watching. I will. Can I get a picture…you know, for my mum? Thought you said it was your wife. Oh. Yeah. Heh. Sorry, I’m just grocery shopping today. His face changed. Well, even if I can’t take a picture WITH you…that doesn’t stop me taking pictures OF you! He whipped out his phone and followed her to the deli counter, snapping away while she looked at the turkey. F the turkey, she thought, hurrying to the checkouts. He followed her there too. She got into the queue. Before her were rows and rows of magazines and newspapers, and on all of them, under the most shocking and disgusting headlines…was her. The other customers noticed as well. They looked at the magazines, looked at her, and now they too pulled out their phones, like zombies. Meg caught two cashiers sharing a horrible smile. After paying for her groceries, she walked outside, straight into a group of four men with their iPhones aimed at her. She kept her head down, rushed up Kensington High Street. She was nearly home when a horse-drawn carriage came rolling out of Kensington Palace Gardens. Some sort of parade: the Palace gate was blocked. She was forced back along the main road, where the four men picked up the scent again, and chased her all the way to the main gate, screaming her name. When she finally got inside Nott Cott, she’d phoned her best girlfriends, each of whom asked: Is he worth this, Meg? Is anyone worth this? I put my arms around her, said I was sorry. So sorry. We just held each other, until I slowly became aware of the most delicious smells. I looked around. Hang on. You mean…after all that…you still made lunch? I wanted to feed you before I left.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Me neitherMe neither!
This was posted a thread or so back ... made me laugh, whenever I see Harry's face on TV:I hope he fucks off for good once the press about his book is done because if i she he face on my tv one more time
Nearly in tears again? This strong, independent, whip-smart, no messing, boss-babe? I'm surprised her face hasn't dried up like an old prune with all the sobbing & crying she's doneOur dinner guests were my cousin Euge, her boyfriend Jack, and my mate Charlie. The salmon turned out perfectly and everyone complimented Meg on her culinary talents. They also devoured her stories. They wanted to hear all about Suits. And her travels. I was grateful for their interest, their warmth. The wine was as good as the company, and there was plenty of it, and after dinner we moved into the snug, put on music and silly hats, and danced. I have a fuzzy memory, and a grainy video on my phone, of Charlie and me rolling on the floor while Meg sat nearby laughing. Then we got into the tequila. I remember Euge hugging Meg, as if they were sisters. I remember Charlie giving me a thumbs-up. I remember thinking: If meeting the rest of my family goes like this, we’re home free. But then I noticed that Meg was feeling poorly. She complained of an upset stomach and looked terribly pale. I thought: Uh-oh, lightweight. She took herself off to bed. After a nightcap I saw our guests out and tidied up a bit. I got into bed around midnight and crashed out, but I woke at two A.M. to hear her in the bathroom, being sick, truly sick, not the drunken sick I’d imagined. Something else was going on. Food poisoning. She revealed that she’d had squid for lunch at a restaurant. British calamari! Mystery solved. From the floor she said softly: Please tell me you’re not having to hold back my hair while I’m vomiting. Yes. I am. I rubbed her back and eventually put her to bed. Weak, near tears, she said she’d imagined a very different end to Date Four. Stop, I said. Taking care of each other? That’s the point. That’s love, I thought, though I managed to keep the words inside.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
Me also.Am I the only person in the world who'd never heard of suits or watched it. I think I'm going to drown in my own vomit reading this
Only if you like Gabriel Macht - who is, frankly, *hot* (imo). Meghan doesn’t appear as often as she would like to think she appears.It's always fucking suits. Do I need to buy the box set?
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