Limey
VIP Member
She had a job? Oh the humanity.
WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE THINK IT IS LIKE FOR EVERYONE ELSE
- Notice
WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE THINK IT IS LIKE FOR EVERYONE ELSE
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Reached the end of the last thread and need to come up for air. However, with a documented 20 year history of cannabis use, I am just leaving this here. i can’t believe that we’re 6 days down the line from the Markles leaking the dogbowlgate to the guardian and still things get more farcical and infuriating by the day.
QuackenRevived
Member
I’m addicted to the funny comments on hereI know we are only in January but this book is the laugh of the year!
.The full seriousness of all this was finally starting to sink in.
If Granny said no…would I have to say goodbye to Meg? I couldn’t imagine being without her…but I also couldn’t imagine being openly disobedient to Granny. My Queen, my Commander in Chief.
If she withheld her permission, my heart would break, and of course I’d look for another occasion to ask again, but the odds would be against me. Granny wasn’t exactly known for changing her mind. So this moment was either the start of my life, or the end. It would all come down to the words I chose, how I delivered them, and how Granny heard them.
If all that wasn’t enough to make me tongue-tied, I’d seen plenty of press reports, sourced to “the Palace,” that some in my family didn’t quite, shall we say, approve of Meg. Didn’t fancy her directness. Didn’t feel altogether comfortable with her strong work ethic. Didn’t even enjoy her occasional questions. What was healthy and natural inquisitiveness they deemed to be impertinence. There were also whispers about a vague and pervasive unease regarding her race. “Concern” had been expressed in certain corners about whether or not Britain was “ready.” Whatever that meant. Was any of that rubbish reaching Granny’s ears? If so, was this request for permission merely a hopeless exercise?
Was I doomed to be the next Margaret?
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
If Granny said no…would I have to say goodbye to Meg? I couldn’t imagine being without her…but I also couldn’t imagine being openly disobedient to Granny. My Queen, my Commander in Chief.
If she withheld her permission, my heart would break, and of course I’d look for another occasion to ask again, but the odds would be against me. Granny wasn’t exactly known for changing her mind. So this moment was either the start of my life, or the end. It would all come down to the words I chose, how I delivered them, and how Granny heard them.
If all that wasn’t enough to make me tongue-tied, I’d seen plenty of press reports, sourced to “the Palace,” that some in my family didn’t quite, shall we say, approve of Meg. Didn’t fancy her directness. Didn’t feel altogether comfortable with her strong work ethic. Didn’t even enjoy her occasional questions. What was healthy and natural inquisitiveness they deemed to be impertinence. There were also whispers about a vague and pervasive unease regarding her race. “Concern” had been expressed in certain corners about whether or not Britain was “ready.” Whatever that meant. Was any of that rubbish reaching Granny’s ears? If so, was this request for permission merely a hopeless exercise?
Was I doomed to be the next Margaret?
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Corfu-blue
Well-known member
Nothing is EVER his fault. Everyone picks everything up wrongly EVERY time.
He now says his words about the Taliban have been spun into something dreadful, but all he was trying to do was create space for veterans (?) so he can help reduce suicides. Admirable stuff.
He's gaslighting the world, he's full of shit and he's got to be in the middle of a full blown paranoid, anxious meltdown. He must be fighting a panic attack at every moment. He knows he's busted. He knows he's gone too far. He knows everything he's doing makes him look ridiculous. I've stopped worrying about damage to BP (fingers crossed there's no cover up revelations you come..) because he's just dying on his own sword here. Every move he makes makes him look worse.
If he takes drastic action (i hate him but i hope he doesn't) because he can't cope with his self-fuelled shit show any more, it will be blamed on the British press, Piers, Dan, Tom and every other person who's called out his bullshit. But only he, his narc wife and his blame -culture, victim perpetuating therapists will be responsible.
He now says his words about the Taliban have been spun into something dreadful, but all he was trying to do was create space for veterans (?) so he can help reduce suicides. Admirable stuff.
He's gaslighting the world, he's full of shit and he's got to be in the middle of a full blown paranoid, anxious meltdown. He must be fighting a panic attack at every moment. He knows he's busted. He knows he's gone too far. He knows everything he's doing makes him look ridiculous. I've stopped worrying about damage to BP (fingers crossed there's no cover up revelations you come..) because he's just dying on his own sword here. Every move he makes makes him look worse.
If he takes drastic action (i hate him but i hope he doesn't) because he can't cope with his self-fuelled shit show any more, it will be blamed on the British press, Piers, Dan, Tom and every other person who's called out his bullshit. But only he, his narc wife and his blame -culture, victim perpetuating therapists will be responsible.
I asked if she’d consider moving to Britain, moving into Nott Cott with me. We talked about all that would mean, and how it would work, and what she’d be giving up. We talked about the logistics of winding down her life in Toronto. When, and how, and above all…for what? Exactly?
I can’t just leave my show and quit my job to give it a shot. Would moving to Britain mean a forever commitment?
Yes, I said. It would.
In that case, she said with a smile, yes. We kissed, hugged, sat down to our supper. I sighed. On the road, I thought. But later, after she’d fallen asleep, I analyzed myself. A holdover from therapy, perhaps. I realized that, mixed in with all my roiling emotions, there was a big streak of relief. She’d said it back, the actual words, I love you, and it hadn’t been inevitable, it hadn’t been a formality. Part of me, I couldn’t deny, had been braced for the worst case. Haz, I’m sorry but I just don’t know if I can do this…Part of me feared she’d bolt. Go back to Toronto, change her number. Heed the advice of her girlfriends. Is anyone worth this? Part of me thought she’d be smart to do so.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
I can’t just leave my show and quit my job to give it a shot. Would moving to Britain mean a forever commitment?
Yes, I said. It would.
In that case, she said with a smile, yes. We kissed, hugged, sat down to our supper. I sighed. On the road, I thought. But later, after she’d fallen asleep, I analyzed myself. A holdover from therapy, perhaps. I realized that, mixed in with all my roiling emotions, there was a big streak of relief. She’d said it back, the actual words, I love you, and it hadn’t been inevitable, it hadn’t been a formality. Part of me, I couldn’t deny, had been braced for the worst case. Haz, I’m sorry but I just don’t know if I can do this…Part of me feared she’d bolt. Go back to Toronto, change her number. Heed the advice of her girlfriends. Is anyone worth this? Part of me thought she’d be smart to do so.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
lollipop_panda
Chatty Member
Just putting it out there. I think these are brand placement$$$. Why so many mentions of a biro? Why wagamama - wasn’t that cool in the 90s? Hunter wellies? Whole foods? Does whole foods even sell magazines and papers?
No wonder this book took so long, all the product placements to negotiate.
The million mentions of Suits every time either of them have the opportunity to draw breath are ONLY to drive people to streaming services to check it out to keep the royalties coming into Meg’s bank account.
It’s so gross. I can’t believe these idiots not only got these multi million dollar contracts but that they are using them to surreptitiously keep merching $hit.
Meemew
VIP Member
She wasn’t in anything else!
Elsa929
Well-known member
I’m pretty sure the mushrooms have permanently screwed up his brain. There’s something very very wrong here. And I’m sorry, but keeping a lock of your mom’s hair next to your bed?! Who does that???? I lost my mom when I was 15. I have saved some of her personal things like her jewelry and papers that have her handwriting. Those items remind me of her. I’d never considered saving hair. Where did he even get it??
Baconbutties
VIP Member
I've just thrown my tea back up.
givepeasachance
VIP Member
I TOOK A RING from Meg’s jewelry box and gave it to a designer, so he’d know her size. Since he was also the keeper of Mummy’s bracelets, earrings and necklaces, I asked him to harvest the diamonds from one particularly beautiful bracelet of Mummy’s and use those to create a ring.
I’d cleared all this in advance with Willy. I’d asked my brother if I could have the bracelet, and told him what it was for. I don’t recall him hesitating, for one second, in giving it to me. He seemed to like Meg, despite his oft-cited concerns. Kate seemed to like her too.
We’d had them over for dinner during one of Meg’s visits, and Meg cooked, and everything was good. Willy had a cold: he was sneezing and coughing, and Meg ran upstairs to get him some of her homeopathic cure-alls. Oregano oil, turmeric. He seemed charmed, moved, though Kate announced to the table that he’d never take such unconventional remedies. We talked about Wimbledon that night, and Suits, and Willy and Kate weren’t brave enough to admit to being superfans. Which was sweet.
The only possibly discordant note I could think of was the marked difference in how the two women dressed, which both of them seemed to notice.
Meg: ripped jeans, barefoot.
Kate: done up to the nines.
No big deal, I thought. Along with the diamonds from the bracelet I’d asked the designer to add a third—a blood-free diamond from Botswana. He asked if there was a rush. Well…now that you mention it…
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
I’d cleared all this in advance with Willy. I’d asked my brother if I could have the bracelet, and told him what it was for. I don’t recall him hesitating, for one second, in giving it to me. He seemed to like Meg, despite his oft-cited concerns. Kate seemed to like her too.
We’d had them over for dinner during one of Meg’s visits, and Meg cooked, and everything was good. Willy had a cold: he was sneezing and coughing, and Meg ran upstairs to get him some of her homeopathic cure-alls. Oregano oil, turmeric. He seemed charmed, moved, though Kate announced to the table that he’d never take such unconventional remedies. We talked about Wimbledon that night, and Suits, and Willy and Kate weren’t brave enough to admit to being superfans. Which was sweet.
The only possibly discordant note I could think of was the marked difference in how the two women dressed, which both of them seemed to notice.
Meg: ripped jeans, barefoot.
Kate: done up to the nines.
No big deal, I thought. Along with the diamonds from the bracelet I’d asked the designer to add a third—a blood-free diamond from Botswana. He asked if there was a rush. Well…now that you mention it…
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Rosesarepink
Chatty Member
He said something sbo
Hopefully the admissions of drug use would deem him unfit to act as Regent or Counselor of State. He should be removed from line of succession and his children - UK has no proof re parentage or born of body.
petalpetunia
Chatty Member
ResidentMerkin
VIP Member
Lies. There are no magazines in Whole foods. Also, no deli counter. He sent her to Whole Foods that is inbthe same building as The Daily Mail. And there are guards at Whole foods so she could have gone to them
Also Daily Mail specifically remembers her walking repeatedly in front of their building for 2 hours, back and forth, until finally one of the journos went out and took some photos to put her out of her misery as tehy had been watching the two hour parade laughing at the obviousness... she purposely went in and out the public gates to maximise being seeing entering and leaving KP
Meanwhile, in the midst of all this, Meg managed to remain calm. Despite what certain people were saying about her, I never heard her speak a bad word about anybody, or to anybody. On the contrary, I watched her redouble her efforts to reach out, to spread kindness.
She sent out handwritten thank-you notes, checked on staff who were ill, sent baskets of food or flowers or goodies to anyone struggling, depressed, off sick. The office was often dark and cold, so she warmed it up with new lamps and space heaters, all bought with her personal credit card. She brought pizza and biscuits, hosted tea parties and ice-cream socials. She shared all the freebies she received, clothes and perfumes and makeup, with all the women in the office.
I stood back in awe at her ability, or determination, to always see the good in people.
The size of her heart was really brought home for me one day. I learned that Mr. R, my former upstairs neighbor when I was in the badger sett, had suffered a tragedy. His adult son had died. Meg didn’t know Mr. R. Neither did she know the son.
But she knew the family had been my neighbors, and she’d often seen them walking their dogs. So she felt tremendous sorrow for them, and wrote the father a letter, expressing condolences, telling him she wanted to give him a hug but didn’t know if it would be appropriate. With the letter she included a gardenia, to plant in the son’s memory. A week later Mr. R appeared at our front door at Nott Cott. He handed Meg a thank-you note and gave her a tight hug. I felt so proud of her, so regretful about my feud with Mr. R. More, I felt regretful about my family feuding with my wife.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
She sent out handwritten thank-you notes, checked on staff who were ill, sent baskets of food or flowers or goodies to anyone struggling, depressed, off sick. The office was often dark and cold, so she warmed it up with new lamps and space heaters, all bought with her personal credit card. She brought pizza and biscuits, hosted tea parties and ice-cream socials. She shared all the freebies she received, clothes and perfumes and makeup, with all the women in the office.
I stood back in awe at her ability, or determination, to always see the good in people.
The size of her heart was really brought home for me one day. I learned that Mr. R, my former upstairs neighbor when I was in the badger sett, had suffered a tragedy. His adult son had died. Meg didn’t know Mr. R. Neither did she know the son.
But she knew the family had been my neighbors, and she’d often seen them walking their dogs. So she felt tremendous sorrow for them, and wrote the father a letter, expressing condolences, telling him she wanted to give him a hug but didn’t know if it would be appropriate. With the letter she included a gardenia, to plant in the son’s memory. A week later Mr. R appeared at our front door at Nott Cott. He handed Meg a thank-you note and gave her a tight hug. I felt so proud of her, so regretful about my feud with Mr. R. More, I felt regretful about my family feuding with my wife.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
peradetlic
VIP Member
Suits again, we will hear about it instead of P&G letter.
BTW I refuse to torture myself reading original. Not into S*M. Or should I say this reminds me of Vogon poetry.