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LadyMuck

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The private secretaries began to address Granny about the Five Options.
Your Majesty, you’ve seen the Five Options.
Yes, she said. We all had.
They’d been emailed to us, five different ways of proceeding.
Option 1 was continuance of the status quo: Meg and I don’t leave, everyone tries to go back to normal.
Option 5 was full severance, no royal role, no working for Granny, and total loss of security.
Option 3 was somewhere in between.

A compromise. Closest to what we’d originally proposed.
I told everyone assembled that, above all, I was desperate to keep security. That was what worried me most, my family’s physical safety. I wanted to prevent a repeat of history, another untimely death like the one that had rocked this family to its core twenty-three years earlier, and from which we were still trying to recover.
I’d consulted with several Palace veterans, people who knew the inner workings of the monarchy and its history and they all said Option 3 was best for all parties.
Meg and I living elsewhere part of the year, continuing our work, retaining security, returning to Britain for charities, ceremonies, events.
Sensible solution, these Palace veterans said. And eminently doable.
But the family, of course, pushed me to take Option 1. Barring that, they would only accept Option 5.
We discussed the Five Options for nearly an hour.
At last the Bee got up and went around the table, handing out a draft of a statement the Palace would soon be releasing.
Announcing implementation of Option 5.
Wait. I’m confused. You’ve already drafted a statement? Before any discussion? Announcing Option 5? In other words, the fix was in, this whole time? This summit was just for show?
No answer.
I asked if there were drafts of other statements. Announcing the other options.
Oh yes, of course, the Bee assured me.
Can I see them?
Alas—his printer had gone on the blink, he said.
The odds! At the very moment he was about to print out those other drafts!


Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
So he expected the British taxpayer to continue funding his security in another country. And he would grace us with his presence for ceremonies and events. Not opening a sewerage factory on a wet weekend...like PP did.
 
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Kezzle1

Chatty Member
Days later, Meg and I welcomed the Bee into Frogmore, made him comfortable in our new sitting room, offered him a glass of rosé, gave a detailed presentation. He took meticulous notes, frequently putting a hand over his mouth and shaking his head. He’d seen the headlines, he said, but he’d not appreciated the full impact this might have on a young couple. This deluge of hate and lies was unprecedented in British history, he said. Disproportionate to anything I’ve ever seen.
Thank you, we said. Thank you for seeing it. He

BIB was probably trying not to laugh at them!
 
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Spacemonkey1972

VIP Member
Been looking at some interviews on Talk TV. And GB news. And I think this sums up this whole tawdry affair
“Harry, in his book, has NO accountability for anything he’s done.
However he DEMANDS accountability from everyone else”
And that’s just it. In the last 5/6yrs him and Saint Meagain have never done anything even remotely wrong. He’s a fucking hypocrite. IMO this fairy story was written for an American audience cos she wants to run for congress and needs sympathy.
 
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ahtisyourself

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He’ll come out in a few years when it all goes tits up with the marriage and say he doesn’t even remember writing the book, that he was struggling with addiction and mental issues and the media took advantage of him.
 
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The Tipsy Titian

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I HAD A LONG TEA WITH GRANNY, just before she left for Balmoral. I gave her a recap, all the latest.
She knew a bit, but I was filling in important gaps.
She looked shocked. Appalling, she said.
She vowed to send the Bee to talk to us.
I’d spent my life dealing with courtiers, scores of them, but now I dealt mostly with just three, all middle-aged white men who’d managed to consolidate power through a series of bold Machiavellian maneuvers.
They had normal names, exceedingly British names, but they sort more easily into zoological categories. The Bee. The Fly. And the Wasp.
The Bee was oval-faced and fuzzy and tended to glide around with great equanimity and poise, as if he was a boon to all living things. He was so poised that people didn’t fear him. Big mistake. Sometimes their last mistake.
The Fly had spent much of his career adjacent to, and indeed drawn to, shit. The offal of government, and media, the wormy entrails, he loved it, grew fat on it, rubbed his hands in glee over it, though he pretended otherwise. He strove to give off an air of casualness, of being above the fray, coolly efficient and ever helpful.
The Wasp was lanky, charming, arrogant, a ball of jazzy energy. He was great at pretending to be polite, even servile. You’d assert a fact, something seemingly incontrovertible—I believe the sun rises in the mornings—and he’d stammer that perchance you might consider for a moment the possibility that you’d been misinformed: Well, heh-heh, I don’t know about that, Your Royal Highness, you see, it all depends what you mean by mornings, sir. Because he seemed so weedy, so self-effacing, you might be tempted to push back, insist on your point, and that was when he’d put you on his list. A short time later, without warning, he’d give you such a stab with his outsized stinger that you’d cry out in confusion. Where the fuck did that come from? I disliked these men, and they didn’t have any use for me. They considered me irrelevant at best, stupid at worst. Above all, they knew how I saw them: as usurpers. Deep down, I feared that each man felt himself to be the One True Monarch, that each was taking advantage of a Queen in her nineties, enjoying his influential position while merely appearing to serve.
I’d come to this conclusion through cold hard experience.
For instance, Meg and I had consulted with the Wasp about the press, and he’d agreed that the situation was abominable, that it needed to be stopped before someone got hurt.
Yes! You’ll get no argument from us on that!
He suggested the Palace convene a summit of all the major editors, make our case to them.
Finally, I said to Meg, someone gets it.
We never heard from him again.
So I was skeptical when Granny offered to send us the Bee. But I told myself to keep an open mind. Maybe this time would be different, because this time Granny was dispatching him personally.
Days later, Meg and I welcomed the Bee into Frogmore, made him comfortable in our new sitting room, offered him a glass of rosé, gave a detailed presentation. He took meticulous notes, frequently putting a hand over his mouth and shaking his head. He’d seen the headlines, he said, but he’d not appreciated the full impact this might have on a young couple. This deluge of hate and lies was unprecedented in British history, he said. Disproportionate to anything I’ve ever seen.
Thank you, we said. Thank you for seeing it. He promised to discuss the matter with all the necessary parties and get back to us soon with an action plan, a set of concrete solutions.
We never heard from him again.


Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex
I disliked these men, and they didn’t have any use for me. They considered me irrelevant at best, stupid at worst.

And oh how right they were! No
 
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So basically Harry & Meghan wanted to be treated like royalty but without having to do any of the duties. They thought that by moving to America, they would be regarded highly there, especially with their royal titles of Duke & Duchess, and everybody who is anybody would want to invite them to every party or charity event. Everyone would be hanging onto their every word. But then they quickly realised they also wanted a luxury lifestyle and that comes with a hefty price tag and with no real job, skills or talent between the two of them, how were they going to achieve this? So, they hatched a plan to gain attention and public sympathy, by making out that the RF or someone in the RF was racist & that meghan had been treated badly. They give Oprah the interview of the century which turned out not to be an interview, more a very one sided view with absolutely NO evidence whatsoever to back up everything they were saying. Netflix offered them a mega deal and once they smelt the money and realised they could demand any price, Harry also got his book deal. These interviews, documentary and book were the ONLY way these two could actually get an income. They have no real talent or skill, apart from lying, fabricating the truth, living in cloud cuckoo world and using words that no-one understands. They are nasty, manipulative and their true colours are definitely shining through. Pretty sure Diana would not have liked Meghan’s influence over Harry, nor the way Harry has attacked his brother, Pa and everyone who has ever disagreed with him. Hope the Americans are seeing through their web of lies and friends and colleagues are ditching them quickly - who in their right mind would want to be associated with these two egotistical idiots?
 
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triesherbest

Chatty Member
Just saw someone on tiktok call him Sparey Spice cause he reads out the spice girls lyrics in the audio book
 
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Anna2020

VIP Member
Somone on the Royal family thread asked how many times did he said MUMMY in his book?
And i just had to look.
He mentioned MUMMY 203 times
MUM 31 times
 
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Edie Po

VIP Member
Funny through all these mystical seeings and sightings of dear Mummy she hasn't once said to him.
"Harry,darling you're making a fucking prat of yourself,put the bong,crack pipe down and get some help..you little fuckwit.
 
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LadyMuck

VIP Member
LLOYDE WAS PLEADING with his superiors at home, trying to get them at least to postpone the date when he and his team pulled out.
He showed me the emails.
He wrote: We can’t just…leave them here!
The person at the other end wrote: The decision has been made. As of March 31 they’re by themselves.
I scrambled to find new security.
I spoke to consultants, gathered estimates. I filled a notebook with research. The Palace directed me to a firm, which quoted me a price.
Six million a year.
I slowly hung up.
In the midst of all this darkness came the horrible news that my old friend Caroline Flack had taken her life. She couldn’t stand it anymore, apparently. The relentless abuse at the hands of the press, year after year, had finally broken her.
I felt so awful for her family. I remembered how they’d all suffered for her mortal sin of going out with me.
She’d been so light and funny that night we met. The definition of carefree. It would’ve been impossible then to imagine this outcome.
I told myself it was an important reminder. I wasn’t being overdramatic, I wasn’t warning about things that would never happen. What Meg and I were dealing with was indeed a question of life and death. And time was running out.
In March 2020 the World Health Organization declared a global pandemic, and Canada began to discuss the possibility of closing its borders.
But Meg had zero doubt. They’re definitely going to close those borders, so we need to figure out somewhere else to go…and get there.


Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Use the £millions from your inheritance and the cash your father gave you. Instead of expecting hard up taxpayers to fund your jolly. Bloody prick
 
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Shemakesmemad

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So a couple of thoughts this morning- me and the hubster had a wee domestic last night, he said I was getting obsessed and he wasn’t interested in them at all, having thought about it he’s probably right! The problem is unless I turn everything off you can’t escape it!
This morning were discussing the book again and I was gobsmacked at Nick Ferrari saying it was a ‘well written’ easy read, although he isn’t keen on what’s actually been said. I was thinking what planet are these people on if they think this is well written? Even if the subject matter was decent the writing is crap!
The rumour that some truly awful revelations are going to be made public is shocking! First of all the people saying it better be sure they have concrete evidence to back it all up, or I could see them getting a whole world of pain thrown at them (and if it is a vicious rumour they’ll deserve it no matter how much I dislike the Harkles). However if the rumour is true then OMG he does have to be held accountable and everyone who assisted, if there has been a cover up!
I’m feeling so sorry for W & C and even the QC because I honestly don’t think they’ve deserved any of this. KC, for whatever reason, has messed up both as a father and now as the monarch. IMO he really should have been tougher with H a long time ago.
I think I maybe will take a break because everything I see and hear about it all makes me so mad and in reality they’re not even relevant to my life, so why am I investing so much of my time on them?
I want karma to catch them but can’t see it happening soon, they have too many influential people backing them from what I see. If karma does hit I’ll be back! This is a brilliant forum and despite the fact we aren’t fans of those two I still think it’s relatively well balanced. Catch you all later 😁
 
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triesherbest

Chatty Member
fully fell asleep on the tube this morning thanks to listening to his droning on. thanks for the nice nap H
 
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Anna2020

VIP Member
More than anything else I feared cameras. I’d never liked cameras, of course, but now I couldn’t abide them. The telltale click of a shutter opening and closing…it could knock me sideways for a whole day.

Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex

Said the man who signed deal with Netflix
 
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JAR21

VIP Member
Right, I'm already 19 pages behind, but I've saved some more articles in the Wiki:


And I've managed to save and clip the Dan Wootton show from last night, and save the Tom Bower drugs and Doria clip, which is now in the Media Gallery, along with the Late Show last night, both in the Spare folder:

Spare
 
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Shade. And you?

Active member
Within two hours of our son being born we were back at Frogmore.
This is throwing shade at PoW, she left hours or pretty much same day when she gave birth. But she left the hospital with the babies in her arms... Faced the media with grace - new parents absolutely ecstatic and happy to share the moment.

No such photos of TW and Harold leaving with the baby exist - because their trip to Portland was the post office where they picked up a flat pack the stork left them!
 
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elliebee27

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Colbert, like the Bidens, are of Irish Catholic immigrant stock. Colbert said some nasty, nasty things about the Queen when she died, and is a fully paid up anti monarchist. Hates the monarchy. There's no question that's why Harry went on that show in particular.
 
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TheCutiePatootie

VIP Member
Wow! Almost Thread #300!!

And today is my Tattle Anniversary.

I really love chatting with you all. Thank you for the insanity.

My favourite day here was the day the Taliban said "He's a big mouth loser who has been trying to get attention. I see news about him a lot on my Facebook feed and really think he's gone mad and needs a doctor immediately"


Untitled.png



What a day.
 
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Anna2020

VIP Member
IT WAS SLIGHTLY EASIER this time.
Maybe because we were an ocean away from the old chaos and stress.
When the big day came we were both surer, calmer—steadier.
What bliss, we said, not having to worry about timing, protocols, journalists at the front gate.
We drove calmly, sanely to the hospital, where our bodyguards once again fed us. This time they brought burgers and fries from In-N-Out. And fajitas from a local Mexican restaurant for Meg. We ate and ate and then did the Baby Mama dance around the hospital room.
Nothing but joy and love in that room.
Still, after many hours Meg asked the doctor: When?
Soon. We’re close.
This time I didn’t touch the laughing gas. (Because there was none.)
I was fully present. I was with Meg through every push. When the doctor said it was a matter of minutes, I told Meg that I wanted mine to be the first face our little girl saw. We knew we were having a daughter.
Meg nodded, squeezed my hand. I went and stood beside the doctor.
We both crouched. As if about to pray.
The doctor called out: The head is crowning. Crowning, I thought. Incredible.
The skin was blue. I worried the baby wasn’t getting enough air. Is she choking?
I looked at Meg. One more push, my love! We’re so close.
Here, here, here, the doctor said, guiding my hands, right here.
A scream, then a moment of pure liquid silence.
It wasn’t, as sometimes happens, that past and future were suddenly one.
It was that the past didn’t matter, and the future didn’t exist.
There was only this intense present, and then the doctor turned to me and shouted: Now!
I slid my hands under the tiny back and neck. Gently, but firmly, as I’d seen in films, I pulled our precious daughter from that world into this, and cradled her just a moment, trying to smile at her, to see her, but honestly, I couldn’t see anything.
I wanted to say: Hello.

I wanted to say: Where have you come from?
I wanted to say: Is it better there?

Is it peaceful? Are you frightened? Don’t be, don’t be, all will be well. I’ll keep you safe.
I surrendered her to Meg. Skin to skin, the nurse said.
Later, after we’d brought her home, after we’d settled into all the new rhythms of a family of four, Meg and I were skin to skin and she said: I’ve never been more in love with you than in that moment.
Really?
Really.
She jotted some thoughts in a kind of journal. Which she shared.
-I read them as a love poem. I read them as a testament, a renewal of our vows. I read them as a citation, a remembrance, a proclamation. I read them as a decree.
She said: That was everything.

She said: That is a man. My love.
She said: That is not a Spare
.


Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
 
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