frequently putting a hand over his mouth and shaking his head
presumably trying not to vomit?
presumably trying not to vomit?
Same in my book groups but I don't have the energy to argue with themMy FB book groups are in meltdown. At the moment the fans are posting 'Can't wait to read this', usually followed by 'Why is everyone so mean'. Then flames erupt. I'm shocked at how many appear to be supporting Harry.
She laughs like a hyena at anything that one.What’s with Lorraine laughing at the sham royal introduction trumpets that were on Stephen Colbert last night and then he joked they were for Tom Hank’s like it’s still disrespectful and she’s laughs like it’s a funny jokeShe honestly drives me mad can’t hide that she’s a Harry and meg fan
After the parody of Colbert, perhaps Hawwwy was headed to SNL to take part in another parody "dick in a box". There is no gloc, its his frostbitten manhood.Good point
Who says ‘excellent penmanship’???I WOKE TO a text from Jason.
Bad news.
What is it now?
The Mail on Sunday had printed the private letter Meg had written to her father. The letter that Granny and Pa urged her to write.
February 2019.
I was in bed, Meg was lying next to me, still asleep. I waited a bit, then broke the news to her softly.
Your father’s given your letter to the Mail.
No.
Meg, I don’t know what to say, he’s given them your letter.
That moment, for me, was decisive. About Mr. Markle, but also about the press. There had been so many moments, but that for me was The One. I didn’t want to hear any more talk of protocols, tradition, strategy. Enough, I thought. Enough.
The paper knew it was illegal to publish that letter, they knew full well, and did it anyway. Why? Because they also knew Meg was defenseless. They knew she didn’t have the staunch support of my family, and how else could they have known this, except from people close to the family? Or inside the family?
There was nothing in that letter to be ashamed about. A daughter pleading with her father to behave decently? Meg stood by every word. She’d always known it might be intercepted, that one of her father’s neighbors, or one of the paps staking out his house, might steal his post. Anything was possible. But she never stopped to think her father would actually offer it, or that a paper would actually take it—and print it.
And edit it. Indeed, that might have been the most galling thing, the way the editors cut and pasted Meg’s words to make them sound less loving.
But the pain was compounded tenfold by the simultaneous interviews with alleged handwriting experts, who analyzed Meg’s letter and inferred from the way she crossed her Ts or curved her Rs that she was a terrible person.
Rightward slant? Over-emotional.
Highly stylized? Consummate performer.
Uneven baseline? No impulse control.
The look on Meg’s face as I told her about these libels rolling out…I knew my way around grief, and there was no mistaking it—this was pure grief. She was mourning the loss of her father, and she was also mourning the loss of her own innocence. She reminded me in a whisper, as if someone might be listening, that she’d taken a handwriting class in high school, and as a result she’d always had excellent penmanship. People complimented her. She’d even used this skill at university to earn spare money. Nights, weekends, she’d inscribed wedding and birthday-party invitations, to pay the rent. Now people were trying to say that this was some kind of window into her soul? And the window was dirty?
Meg wanted to sue. Me too. Rather, we both felt we had no choice. If we didn’t sue over this, we said, what kind of signal would that be sending? To the press? To the world? So we conferred again with the Palace lawyer. We were given a runaround.
I reached out to Pa and Willy. They’d both sued the press in the past over invasions and lies.
Pa sued over so-called Black Spider Letters, his memos to government officials. Willy sued over topless photos of Kate. But both vehemently opposed the idea of Meg and me taking any legal action. Why? I asked. They hummed and hahed. The only answer I could get out of them was that it simply wasn’t advisable. The done thing, etc.
I told Meg: You’d think we were suing a dear friend of theirs.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
Wait, why is Harold so happy about this tour? This was when they feared for Sprog's life whenIT FELT GLORIOUS TO watch an entire country fall in love with my wife.
South Africa, that is. September 2019.
Another foreign tour, representing the Queen, and another triumph.
From Cape Town to Johannesburg, people couldn’t get enough of Meg.
We both felt a bit more confident, therefore, a bit more courageous, just days before our return home, when we strapped on the battle armor and announced that we were suing three of the four British tabloids (including the one that printed Meg’s letter to her father) over their disgraceful conduct, and over their longstanding practice of hacking into people’s phones.
It was partially down to Elton and David. At the end of our recent visit they’d introduced us to a barrister, an acquaintance of theirs, a lovely fellow who knew more about the phone-hacking scandal than anyone I’d ever met. He’d shared with me his expertise, plus loads of open-court evidence, and when I told him I wished there was something I could do with it, when I complained that we’d been blocked at every turn by the Palace, he offered a breathtakingly elegant work-around.
Why not hire your own lawyer?
I stammered: You mean…are you telling me we could just…? What a thought. It had never occurred to me. I’d been so conditioned to do as I was told.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
I know violence is not the answer.But I really want to talk to him with my fist.Stephen Colbert asks "Would you like a cocktail before we begin?" and Harry enthusiastically responds
View attachment 1873372
The Fly is definitely Simon Case.I wonder the Wasp is Tall Paul
Anna, you are doing God’s work here, even though I did initially think that these posts were your very clever, humorous interpretations of Harold’s story. I’m still gob-smacked in both what this book contains and the way it’s written. I couldn’t cringe more if I tried. I bet even the folk he acknowledged in the book are mortified to have been thanked by this utter cretin.I WOKE TO a text from Jason.
Bad news.
What is it now?
The Mail on Sunday had printed the private letter Meg had written to her father. The letter that Granny and Pa urged her to write.
February 2019.
I was in bed, Meg was lying next to me, still asleep. I waited a bit, then broke the news to her softly.
Your father’s given your letter to the Mail.
No.
Meg, I don’t know what to say, he’s given them your letter.
That moment, for me, was decisive. About Mr. Markle, but also about the press. There had been so many moments, but that for me was The One. I didn’t want to hear any more talk of protocols, tradition, strategy. Enough, I thought. Enough.
The paper knew it was illegal to publish that letter, they knew full well, and did it anyway. Why? Because they also knew Meg was defenseless. They knew she didn’t have the staunch support of my family, and how else could they have known this, except from people close to the family? Or inside the family?
There was nothing in that letter to be ashamed about. A daughter pleading with her father to behave decently? Meg stood by every word. She’d always known it might be intercepted, that one of her father’s neighbors, or one of the paps staking out his house, might steal his post. Anything was possible. But she never stopped to think her father would actually offer it, or that a paper would actually take it—and print it.
And edit it. Indeed, that might have been the most galling thing, the way the editors cut and pasted Meg’s words to make them sound less loving.
But the pain was compounded tenfold by the simultaneous interviews with alleged handwriting experts, who analyzed Meg’s letter and inferred from the way she crossed her Ts or curved her Rs that she was a terrible person.
Rightward slant? Over-emotional.
Highly stylized? Consummate performer.
Uneven baseline? No impulse control.
The look on Meg’s face as I told her about these libels rolling out…I knew my way around grief, and there was no mistaking it—this was pure grief. She was mourning the loss of her father, and she was also mourning the loss of her own innocence. She reminded me in a whisper, as if someone might be listening, that she’d taken a handwriting class in high school, and as a result she’d always had excellent penmanship. People complimented her. She’d even used this skill at university to earn spare money. Nights, weekends, she’d inscribed wedding and birthday-party invitations, to pay the rent. Now people were trying to say that this was some kind of window into her soul? And the window was dirty?
Meg wanted to sue. Me too. Rather, we both felt we had no choice. If we didn’t sue over this, we said, what kind of signal would that be sending? To the press? To the world? So we conferred again with the Palace lawyer. We were given a runaround.
I reached out to Pa and Willy. They’d both sued the press in the past over invasions and lies.
Pa sued over so-called Black Spider Letters, his memos to government officials. Willy sued over topless photos of Kate. But both vehemently opposed the idea of Meg and me taking any legal action. Why? I asked. They hummed and hahed. The only answer I could get out of them was that it simply wasn’t advisable. The done thing, etc.
I told Meg: You’d think we were suing a dear friend of theirs.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex.
If it’s true (and if not where the hell was Doria all that time?) how did TW get it wiped from the net? This must’ve been done before or as soon as she met Harry but she was a nothing at that point so where did she get the power you’d need to get that to happen? Confused.I can’t understand why then has this not been in any papers before now especially in those rag mags in the US very weird kinda hard to believe really it needs to be fact checked!
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