Harry and Meghan #298 The half price Prince

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Every moment of that week was a revelation and a blessing. And yet every moment also dragged us closer to the wrenching minute when we’d have to say goodbye. There was no way around it: Meg had to get back. I had to fly to the capital, Gaborone, to meet the president of Botswana, to discuss conservation issues, after which I was embarking on a three-phase lads’ trip, months in the planning. I would cancel, I told Meg, but my mates would never forgive me. We said goodbye; Meg began to cry. When will I see you again? Soon. Not soon enough. No. Not nearly.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
He's like a 14 year old love sick puppy. And still is
 
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Second date with Meghan
This time I was already there—waiting. Smiling. Proud of myself. She walked in, wearing a pretty blue sundress with white pinstripes. She was aglow. I stood and said: I bear gifts. A pink box. I held it forward. She shook it. What’s this? No, no, don’t shake it! We both laughed. She opened the box. Cupcakes. Red, white and blue cupcakes, to be exact. In honor of Independence Day. I said something about the Brits having a very different view of Independence Day from the Yanks, but, oh, well. She said they looked amazing. Our waitress from Date One appeared. Mischa. She seemed genuinely happy to see us, to discover that there was a Date Two. She could tell what was happening, she got that she was an eyewitness, that she’d forever be part of our personal mythology. After bringing us a round of drinks she went away and didn’t return for a long time. When she did, we were deep in the middle of a kiss. Not our first.
Meghan, holding my shirt collar, was pulling me towards her, holding me close. When she saw Mischa she released me immediately and we all laughed. Excuse us. No problem. Another round? Again the conversation flowed, crackled. Burgers came and went, uneaten. I felt an overwhelming sense of Overture, Prelude, Kettle Drums, Act I. And yet also a sense of ending. A phase of my life—the first half?—was coming to a close. As the night neared its end we had a very frank discussion. There was no way round it. She put a hand to her cheek and said: What’re we gonna doooo? We have to give this a proper go. What does that even mean? I live in Canada. I’m going back tomorrow! We’ll meet. A long visit. This summer. My summer’s already planned. Mine too. Surely in the whole summer we could find one small spot of time. She shook her head. She was doing the full Eat Pray Love. Eat what now? The book? Ah. Sorry. Not really big on books. I felt intimidated. She was so the opposite of me. She read. She was cultured. Not important, she said with a laugh. The point was, she was going with three girlfriends to Spain, and then with two girlfriends to Italy, and then— She looked at her calendar. I looked at mine. She raised her eyes, smiled. What is it? Tell me. Actually, there’s one small window… Recently, she explained, a castmate had advised her not to be so structured about her summer of eating, praying and loving. Keep one week open, this castmate said, leave room for magic, so she’d been saying no to all kinds of things, reserving one week, even turning down a very dreamy bike trip through the lavender fields of southern France… I looked at my calendar and said: I have one week open as well. What if they’re the same week? What if? Is it possible? How crazy would that be? It was the same week.


Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Nope I’m off again… 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮
 
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I'm behind, but I've taken to watching Upstairs, Downstairs as it's more true to life ;) (Mrs Bridges has just stolen a baby, for those who care)

We don't have the emojis for this, so take note anytime I react to anything on this thread my face will almost certainly look like this:

 
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Fastest selling book, blah blah....

I asked in WH Smith's how many books had been sold. 3!!!!! 😂😂😂 Tbf it is Wales and the royals aren't exactly popular, but bloody 3.

Am kind of proud of people locally shunning it 😂😂😂
 
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Meg told us a bit about her life, about growing up in Los Angeles, about her struggles to become an actress, doing quick changes between auditions in her rundown SUV on which the doors didn’t always work. She was forced to enter through the boot. She talked about her growing portfolio as an entrepreneur, her lifestyle website, which had tens of thousands of readers. In her free time she did philanthropic work—she was especially fierce about women’s issues. I was fascinated, hanging on every word, while in the background I heard a faint drumbeat: She’s perfect, she’s perfect, she’s perfect.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.


With his she's perfect she's perfect and her heart going pump pump they are a regular rythm section aint they.
 
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even turning down a very dreamy bike trip through the lavender fields of southern France…

🤮
 
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Every moment of that week was a revelation and a blessing. And yet every moment also dragged us closer to the wrenching minute when we’d have to say goodbye. There was no way around it: Meg had to get back. I had to fly to the capital, Gaborone, to meet the president of Botswana, to discuss conservation issues, after which I was embarking on a three-phase lads’ trip, months in the planning. I would cancel, I told Meg, but my mates would never forgive me. We said goodbye; Meg began to cry. When will I see you again? Soon. Not soon enough. No. Not nearly.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
I have never in my life read Mills & Boone but from what I have heard from those taking the piss, this ‘work’ is right down their street.🤮
 
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I have a question what moron would go and queue up to buy the book at WH Smiths or Waterstones when you can order it from amazon?
 
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Did anyone ever see Kevin Bridges' "Did ye, aye?" routine, describing how he would, in his unmistakably no-bullshit Glaswegian way, listen to pampered celebrities if he were a chat show host, and utter that line when they droned on about finding themselves, etc. Harry and Meghan would be perfect candidates for this treatment. Would love to see it 😂
 
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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.
 
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Then I looked at the Jet Ski. Floating on its side. tit. My iPhone! With all my photos! And phone numbers! MEG! The Jet Ski came to rest on the sandbar. We flipped it right and I grabbed my phone from the console. Soaked. Ruined. All the photos Meg and I had taken! Plus all our texts! I’d known this lads’ trip would be wild, so I’d sent some photos to Meg and other mates before leaving, as a precaution. Still, the rest were surely lost. More, how was I going to be in touch with her? Adi said not to worry, we’d put the phone in rice, a surefire way to dry it out. Hours later, the moment we got back to camp, that was just what we did. We submerged the phone in a big bucket of uncooked white rice. I looked down, highly dubious. How long will this take? Day or two. No good. I need a solution now. Mike and I worked out a plan. I could write a letter to Meg, which he’d take home with him to Maun. Teej could then photograph the letter and text it to Meg. (She had Meg’s number on her phone: I’d given it to her when she first went to collect Meg from the airport.) Now I just had to write that letter. The first challenge was finding a pen among that bunch of muppets. Does anyone have a pen? A what? A pen. I’ve got an EpiPen! No! A pen. A biro! My kingdom for a biro! Oh. A biro. Wow. Somehow I found one. The next challenge was finding a place to compose. I went off under a tree. I thought. I stared into space. I wrote: Hey Beautiful. OK you got me—can’t stop thinking about you, missing you, LOTS. Phone went in river. Sad face…Apart from that, having an amazing time. Wish u were here. Mike left, letter in hand.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
 
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With his she's perfect she's perfect and her heart going pump pump they are a regular rythm section aint they.

“The drummer boy from Illinois went crash, boom, bang. The whole rhythm section was a purple gang” 🎵
 
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Can imagine all the comedians having fun with this. Ricky Gervais, Jimmy Carr, Norton etc. He's given them enough material for a year
 
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Keep one week open, this castmate said, leave room for magic, so she’d been saying no to all kinds of things, reserving one week, even turning down a very dreamy bike trip through the lavender fields of southern France… I looked at my calendar and said: I have one week open as well. What if they’re the same week? What if? Is it possible? How crazy would that be? It was the same week
Amazing coincidence, just amazing. Hmm, just think, one day when the kids are off their hands, they can sling a phrase book, a Rick Steves Guidebook to Clichéd American Secret Not Secret at All Getaways and a change of sundresses in the saddlebags and pedal off through the lavender fields in homage to the beginning of their greatest love story. Ahhhh.
 
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She was aglow??? Definitely smegz writing
Someone saw that she was one of the wicked witches, water didn't work so they went the old-fashioned way.


New thread yay! And love the title!


Couldn't post in the last thread:

She (Meghan) was wearing a black sweater, jeans, heels. I knew nothing about clothes, but I knew she was chic. Then again, I knew she could make anything look chic. Even a bivvy bag. The main thing I noticed was the chasm between internet and reality. I’d seen so many photos of her from fashion shoots and TV sets, all glam and glossy, but here she was, in the flesh, no frills, no filter…and even more beautiful. Heart-attack beautiful. I was trying to process this, struggling to understand what was happening to my circulatory and nervous systems, and as a result my brain couldn’t handle any more data. Conversation, pleasantries, the Queen’s English, all became a challenge. She filled the gap. She talked about London. She was here all the time, she said. Sometimes she just left her luggage at Soho House for weeks. They stored it without question. The people there were like family. I thought: You’re in London all the time? How have I never seen you? Never mind that nine million people lived in London, or that I rarely left my house, I felt that if she was here, I should’ve known. I should’ve been informed! What brings you here so often? Friends. Business. Oh? Business? Acting was her main job, she said, the thing she was known for, but she had several careers. Lifestyle writer, travel writer, corporate spokesperson, entrepreneur, activist, model. She’d been all over the world, lived in various countries, worked for the US embassy in Argentina—her CV was dizzying. All part of the plan, she said. Plan? Help people, do some good, be free.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
Oh so many jokes. My phone battery had to be low right now.



*cracks knuckles and warms up fingertips waiting for phone to charge*

What an intro. Give him a Pulitzer just for that. Did they get an AI to write it?

So he had a heart attack the first time they met? Leaving aside the hyperbole, what happened when he saw her without makeup the first time? And yeah, people say that, it's a common-ish expression, but it sounds sooo trite. (Just remembered that scene in We Bought a Zoo where the dad is telling his kids about the first time he saw their mom, and just stopped and stared before he built up the courage to go talk to her - that was beautiful! ♥)

Who tries to unders ..you are meeting your date and .. I get feeling nervous or feeling butterflies, but who stands there trying to 'understand' it?

Couldn't understand more data. Yeah, here we get you Sparry. You and your tiny brain.

Left her luggage at Soho House...bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!! Way to our your wife as the Ho she is 😂😂😂😂

Her many careers 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 You forgot yachting, Sparry. But maybe she counts it as an extra-curricular? Wouldn't want to share those singles with the IRS, would she?

Argentina. *snorts*

All part of the plan. The plan to catch herself the richest idiot she could, play-act being a humanitarian and live a super-glam life off someone else's hard work and wealth forever.


Even the modern Mills and Boon's are better written. Can't say who's written this - not Sparry, but either TW or the ghostwriter or a staff member who were pissed off with her. It comes off as 'OMG Smegs is an angelllllll - so beautiful, so smart, so intelligent, the best at everything!!!' on the surface, but seems to lack any warmth or real affection.

It sounds like my ex in the lovebombing phase - he was definitely in lust and impressed by my credentials etc, but there was a definite lack of affection so I always doubted him and held back (with good reason, as it turned out), and the gold-digger went off with a bigger fish. Even sharing our deepest secrets, daily thoughts and feelings etc, we could never achieve real intimacy. And that is what this extract sounds like.

I can't listen to Sparry's voice, but it would be interesting to hear how he has read this part.

When William talks about Catherine, even if it is a short sentence or something generic like she sends her best wishes or she says hello, you can hear genuine warmth in his voice. Even in that address in the Scottish parliament.
 
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I have a question what moron would go and queue up to buy the book at WH Smiths or Waterstones when you can order it from amazon?
At least if you buy from Amazon you don’t risk anyone you know witnessing your recklessness
 
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