Harry and Meghan #298 The half price Prince

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CrabbyOyster

CrabbyOyster

Anna2020 said:
I WALKED home from the office and found Meg sitting on the stairs.
She was sobbing. Uncontrollably.
My love, what’s happened? I thought for sure we’d lost the baby. I went to her on my knees.
She choked out that she didn’t want to do this anymore.
Do what?
Live.
I didn’t catch her meaning at first. I didn’t understand, maybe didn’t want to understand. My mind just didn’t want to process the words.
It’s all so painful, she was saying.
What is?
To be hated like this—for what? What had she done? she asked.
She really wanted to know. What sin had she committed to deserve this kind of treatment?
She just wanted to make the pain stop, she said. Not only for her, for everyone. For me, for her mother. But she couldn’t make it stop, so she’d decided to disappear.
Disappear?
Without her, she said, all the press would go away, and then I wouldn’t have to live like this.
Our unborn child would never have to live like this.
It’s so clear, she kept saying, it’s so clear. Just stop breathing. Stop being. This exists because I exist.
I begged her not to talk like that. I promised her we’d get through it, we’d find a way. In the meantime, we’d find her the help she needed. I asked her to be strong, hang on.
Incredibly, while reassuring her, and hugging her, I couldn’t entirely stop thinking like a bleeping royal. We had a Sentebale engagement that night, at the Royal Albert Hall, and I kept telling myself: We can’t be late. We cannot be late. They’ll skin us alive! And they’ll blame her. Slowly—too slowly—I realized that tardiness was the least of our problems.
I said she should skip the engagement, of course.
I needed to go, make a quick appearance, but I’d be home fast.
No, she insisted, she didn’t trust herself to be at home alone for even an hour with such dark feelings.
So we put on our best kit, and she applied dark, dark lipstick to draw attention away from her bloodshot eyes, and out of the door we went.
The car pulled up outside the Royal Albert Hall, and as we stepped into the blue flashing lights of the police escort and the whiteout lights of the press’s flashbulbs, Meg reached for my hand. She gripped it tightly. As we went inside, she gripped it even tighter.
I was buoyed by the tightness of that grip. She’s hanging on, I thought. Better than letting go.
But when we settled into the royal box, and the lights dimmed, she let go of her emotions. She couldn’t hold back the tears. She wept silently. The music struck up, we turned and faced the front. We spent the entire length of the performance (Cirque du Soleil) squeezing each other’s hands, me promising her in a whisper: Trust me. I’ll keep you safe.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
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Tardiness? Another Americanism. He would have been thinking "punctuality" at that stage. More evidence of MM and her sticky fingers on this book.
 
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A

Anna2020

Off to bed, tomorrow i can do rest of the book.
Last few chapters were, i cant find words to describe it.
 
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margaretta

margaretta

Pom Bear said:
Thanks for the lovely comments on welcoming me back 😀❤🤗😘 xx. Sorry if I've missed any out, I'm on thread 290 and it take me a good while to catch up but while I do I add a pic daily when I'm on and say hello 😀 Love from Pom ❤ x.

So I've now got to Harry's frostbitten ahem sausage, loooooool the things his coming out with 😄😄😄...

View attachment 1872800



View attachment 1872799
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Love it Pom Bear.
Hope it takes you ages to catch up, only because it is fun having you around again.


YAY I made VIP!!! Margaritas, nibbles all round and a whole bottle of tequila for @VC10
 
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Madge2022

Madge2022

Suzesnooze said:
The epilogue is him going on about his secret special relationship with the Queen and how he had spoken to her only 4 days before she died. Also he thought of when she had last seen his children and Archie making deep chivalrous bows to the Queen and his sister cuddling the monarch’s shins!

‘Sweetest children’ Granny said sounding bemused. She’d expected them to be a bit more American thought Harry!

After the funeral they returned to America where Granny paid them a visit in the form of a hummingbird!

THE END

Absolute pile of tit!
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Found the ghostwriter:

Screenshot_20230111-001405.png
 
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Plantagenet

Plantagenet

All of these snippets from the book just convince me more that she wrote them or dictated them. This is written like a bad romance novel to be made into a bad movie of the week.
 
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CrabbyOyster

CrabbyOyster

Anna2020 said:
Off to bed, tomorrow i can do rest of the book.
Last few chapters were, i cant find words to describe it.
Click to expand...
Thank you for your efforts today. You've taken more than one for the team and I'm sure I'm not the only one who is grateful!
 
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R

Rosesarepink

There are only small mentions in 2 front pages tomorrow about him - it seems odd when there are enough stories for weeks in the book.
 
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Kezzle1

Kezzle1

Trying to watch Tom Bower interview and it keeps dropping out saying unavailable. Has someone put in a call???
 
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F1Grid

F1Grid

Evangelina said:
Harry couldn't be removed.
Not sure why Andrew matters in relation to George, brothers of Monarchs that inherit Regency while heirs exist, is only possible in Muslim Kingdoms .
The only way would be a amendment for Kate, having Regency, Philip had it above Margo.
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Harry can be removed by Parliament provided they did it while Charles was still alive.

Anna2020 said:
I WALKED home from the office and found Meg sitting on the stairs.
She was sobbing. Uncontrollably.
My love, what’s happened? I thought for sure we’d lost the baby. I went to her on my knees.
She choked out that she didn’t want to do this anymore.
Do what?
Live.
I didn’t catch her meaning at first. I didn’t understand, maybe didn’t want to understand. My mind just didn’t want to process the words.
It’s all so painful, she was saying.
What is?
To be hated like this—for what? What had she done? she asked.
She really wanted to know. What sin had she committed to deserve this kind of treatment?
She just wanted to make the pain stop, she said. Not only for her, for everyone. For me, for her mother. But she couldn’t make it stop, so she’d decided to disappear.
Disappear?
Without her, she said, all the press would go away, and then I wouldn’t have to live like this.
Our unborn child would never have to live like this.
It’s so clear, she kept saying, it’s so clear. Just stop breathing. Stop being. This exists because I exist.
I begged her not to talk like that. I promised her we’d get through it, we’d find a way. In the meantime, we’d find her the help she needed. I asked her to be strong, hang on.
Incredibly, while reassuring her, and hugging her, I couldn’t entirely stop thinking like a bleeping royal. We had a Sentebale engagement that night, at the Royal Albert Hall, and I kept telling myself: We can’t be late. We cannot be late. They’ll skin us alive! And they’ll blame her. Slowly—too slowly—I realized that tardiness was the least of our problems.
I said she should skip the engagement, of course.
I needed to go, make a quick appearance, but I’d be home fast.
No, she insisted, she didn’t trust herself to be at home alone for even an hour with such dark feelings.
So we put on our best kit, and she applied dark, dark lipstick to draw attention away from her bloodshot eyes, and out of the door we went.
The car pulled up outside the Royal Albert Hall, and as we stepped into the blue flashing lights of the police escort and the whiteout lights of the press’s flashbulbs, Meg reached for my hand. She gripped it tightly. As we went inside, she gripped it even tighter.
I was buoyed by the tightness of that grip. She’s hanging on, I thought. Better than letting go.
But when we settled into the royal box, and the lights dimmed, she let go of her emotions. She couldn’t hold back the tears. She wept silently. The music struck up, we turned and faced the front. We spent the entire length of the performance (Cirque du Soleil) squeezing each other’s hands, me promising her in a whisper: Trust me. I’ll keep you safe.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Click to expand...
Your pregnant wife has said she has thoughts of killing herself. Do you (accounting for the fact you are wealthy and privileged enough to have these people on call 24/7):

a) Immediately contact her obstetrician
b) Immediately contact her midwife
c) Immediately contact her GP
d) Think about pissing off to Cirque du Soleil and leaving her on her own

He is an absolutely bleeping abysmal husband by any measure.
 
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NoIAmNotAHorse

NoIAmNotAHorse

Anna2020 said:
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.
Click to expand...
…and he called his mates “muppets!”
 
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ChastityDingle

ChastityDingle

VC10 said:
There's no way William is jealous of anything to do with him
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I was just about to post the very same thing. The jealousy is all one way.
I feel for Charles and William - on a personal level, it must be difficult for them watching Harry self destruct.

Camilla and Catherine - I think Camilla took a lot of crap over the years and weathered it. Catherine - imo has a very strong core, a very deep sense of self. Who will ever forget her confident stride to and from the car at the Windsor walkabout. There was a real air of don't duck with me (not that she would dream of uttering such a vulgar thing 😁) towards H&M.

Neither of them deserve this rubbish, but both are authentic - something H&M never were and never will be.
 
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Kezzle1

Kezzle1

Kezzle1 said:
Trying to watch Tom Bower interview and it keeps dropping out saying unavailable. Has someone put in a call???
Click to expand...
Sorry to quote myself but looks like the interview where he mentions Doria Harry and drugs has gone!
 
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