Thank you Cosmo girl for starting the thread and congratulations thenorthremembers on the title.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.
MisinformationI STOOD AT THE ALTAR, smoothed the front of my Household Cavalry uniform, watched Meg floating towards me. I’d worked hard to choose the right music for her procession, and ultimately I’d landed on Handel’s Eternal Source of Light Divine. Now, as the soloist’s voice rang out above our heads, I thought I’d chosen well. Indeed, as Meg came nearer and nearer, I was giving thanks for all my choices.
Amazing that I could even hear the music over the sound of my own heartbeat as Meg stepped up, took my hand.
The present dissolved, the past came rushing back. Our first tentative messages on Instagram. Our first meeting at Soho House. Our first trip to Botswana. Our first excited exchanges after my phone went into the river. Our first roast chicken. Our first flights back and forth across the Atlantic. The first time I told her: I love you. Hearing her say it back. Guy in splints. Steve the grumpy swan. The brutal fight to keep her safe from the press. And now here we were, the finishing line. The starting line. For the last few months, not much had gone according to plan. But I reminded myself that none of that was the plan. This was the plan. This. Love. I shot a glance at Pa, who’d walked Meg down the last part of the aisle. Not her father, but special just the same, and she was moved. It didn’t make up for her father’s behavior, for how the press had used him, but it very much helped.
Aunt Jane stood and gave a reading in honor of Mummy. Song of Solomon. Meg and I chose it.
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away…
Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm;
For love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave…
Strong as death. Fierce as the grave. Yes, I thought. Yes. I saw the archbishop extend the rings, his hands shaking. I’d forgotten, but he clearly hadn’t: twelve cameras pointed at us, two billion people watching on TV, photographers in the rafters, massive crowds outside roistering and cheering. We exchanged the rings, Meg’s made from the same hunk of Welsh gold that had provided Kate’s. Granny had told me that this was nearly the last of it. Last of the gold. That was how I felt about Meg. The archbishop reached the official part, spoke the few words that made us The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, titles bestowed by Granny, and he joined us until death parted us, though he’d already done similar days earlier, in our garden, a small ceremony, just the two of us, Guy and Pula the only witnesses. Unofficial, non-binding, except in our souls.
We were grateful for every person in and around St. George’s, and watching on TV, but our love began in private, and being public had been mostly pain, so we wanted the first consecration of our love, the first vows, to be private as well. Magical as the formal ceremony was, we’d both come to feel slightly frightened of…crowds. Underscoring this feeling: The first thing we saw upon walking back up the aisle and out of the church, other than a stream of smiling faces, were snipers. On the rooftops, amid the bunting, behind the waterfalls of streamers.
Police told me it was unusual, but necessary. Due to the unprecedented number of threats they were picking up.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
That was the engagement that happened three days before the actual engagementHang on a minute. I thought he'd proposed in the kitchen while she cooked roast chicken. Well that's what they told the world when interviewed after/about the engagement.
Sorry if already said, but maybe she had a deal to seal or expunge record? Like, if she turned on someone bigger in the dealer world maybe.Also, we all scoured the Internet for any prison record for Doria and no doubt the tabloids did too, and nobody came up with anything, so I'm still not sold on that one.
This is a whole different level of shit!! The people saying this better have their checks in order! If this is malicious gossip it’s next level if it’s true the RF are in the shit never mind him!A few more screenshots
View attachment 1872636
View attachment 1872639
View attachment 1872642
View attachment 1872640
ETA Another one
View attachment 1872650
I don't believe that . No one could keep that quiet nowadays from the authorities, Police, NHS, no matter who they were.That's why I hope it isn't true. The fallout would be horrific all round. And way, way worse than Andrew. Which was damaging enough.
Fingers crossed the alleged big story people have alluded to is about something else entirely.
Another possibility would be witness protection-- she was a drug dealer and testified for the state, then had to go into hiding for a while. Now that wouldn't explain them not having to hide Meghan as well since she was a child at the time, but it's something other than imprisonment and the records might not be readily available. As for other possibilities I couldn't begin to guess.Also, we all scoured the Internet for any prison record for Doria and no doubt the tabloids did too, and nobody came up with anything, so I'm still not sold on that one.
Vegas??We don’t have battery as a charge in the UK?
I mean we have plenty in the armoury but ‘battery’ as it’s own charge is an American thing?
He had testicular hernia in 1988, I'm not sure it's 2 veg.Yeah I know you have done this already but...
Harry got a BESPOKE penis cushion for trip to Antarctica
The Duke of Sussex has claimed a friend presented his with a 'bespoke c**k cushion' made of fleece in a bid to prevent the prince suffering another dose of frostbitten penis during a hike across Antarctica.www.dailymail.co.uk
what's this obsession with his meat and 2 veg?
I'm not asking how or why you even know that.He had testicular hernia in 1988, I'm not sure it's 2 veg.
Wouldn't every gal turn down a dreamy bike trip for the chance to shit in the bush in Botswana and snare herself a pervy Prince?even turning down a very dreamy bike trip through the lavender fields of southern France…
She also wrote that paragraph. How much of this book is her?After he delivered their daughter and Meg told him she’d never loved him more and also wrote a poem..
Omg I can’t actually believe the things he’s writing he’s actually deluded the ghost writer was really enjoying all this he’s making Kate and William out to be old fashioned fuddy duddysKate, done up to the nines!! What a load of guff! Was she wearing a fricking ball gown? She always nails casual
We use cookies and similar technologies for the following purposes:
Do you accept cookies and these technologies?
We use cookies and similar technologies for the following purposes:
Do you accept cookies and these technologies?