Hello and Happy Sunday all!
I just want to start off by saying I am hugely appreciative of all the lovely comments, both on here and Twitter, since I admitted I was having a few issues of late.
I am incredibly grateful for and touched by everyone’s support; I’m doing better and better – just trying to take care of myself and take it easy.
Writing the blog again was strangely therapeutic for me, and a nice distraction, so without further ado – back to the bitching!
Meghan edits Vogue
Bloody hell, who let this one out of her box?
So apparently, when Meghan “fell off the radar” sometime in March and we all breathed a collective sigh of relief that she’d vanished, she had in fact parked her (rather wide) arse over at the Vogue offices to “guest edit” the September issue.

Apart from the fact I cannot walk around my home city of London without seeing giant billboards announcing that “Her Royal Highness The Duchess of Sussex” (lol) edited this issue, even more to my annoyance, I cannot see how her doing this has benefitted anyone (apart from herself obviously, but that’s nothing new).
So it’s supposed to be fifteen “influential women” on the front cover, but instead of choosing regular, inspirational ladies (unlike herself), she (predictably) whacked a load of celebrities on the front page, further shoving her nose up the arses of the Hollywood folk.

Then – she made it worse, by taking a not-so-subtle jab at Kate by saying she “didn’t want to be on the cover of the magazine because it was ‘boastful’”.
As we all know, Catherine took the cover (rather beautifully) in 2016 – so of course, Meghan had to take a cheap shot at her – largely out of jealousy, I’m sure.

Well Meghan, even as the shy, retiring flower that you are (double lol) I’m sure the main reasons you dodged being on the cover were:
A) because it’s British and quite frankly, fuck that
B) because she didn’t want her “I’ve-given-up-cocaine-but-been-on-the-donuts” face to be on the cover. She knew she couldn’t compete with Kate, so didn’t bother trying.
It’s ok Meghan, if you didn’t want your “pregnant” face to be on the cover, there are plenty of old-but-gold ones to choose from.

Harry and Meghan will only have two kids (thank fuck)
Is that a promise, Harry?

Yep, this time it was Harry’s turn to take a swipe at the Cambridges – when he told us all that we should only have two kids each because having any more than that was “damaging to the planet”.

It’s ok Hazza old mate, thanks for sticking your oar in (yet again) but as the rest of us make our own money and give back to the economy – and you and your useless wife do not – I think each individual private citizen can make their own decisions about how many times they’d like to reproduce.
In any case, I do suspect Harry’s comments are also because he’s aware that at 38, Meghan’s baby making days are almost up, so he’s gotta cover his arse somehow.
That’s until he marries the next (younger) wife and she wants kids of her own, of course.

Since we’re dishing out advice and judging by the way Mrs Sussex has been carrying the first baby around like a sack of spuds, I’d tell Harry not to bother having anymore at all: it’s been enough of a fiasco with Sussex Spawn Number 1, let alone us having to endure another one of Meghan’s “pregnancies” with her hands superglued to her stomach and going out of her way to keep things as “mysterious” as possible regarding the birth.

Don’t worry, Harry; we only wish Princess Diana had taken your advice even more seriously and stopped at one kid.
The King’s Cup
So last week, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge went head-to-head on the Isle of Wight in a sailing competition to raise money for their respective charities – an event they hope to make an annual occurrence.

We all know how competitive the Cambridges can get, and it was no surprise when William couldn’t resist teasing Kate when her team came last – due to starting the second race a bit ahead of everyone else.
For her trouble, she was given this lovely wooden spoon for being disqualified, much to her husband’s amusement:

As well as a host of celebrities sailing on behalf of a wide variety of other charities (some that also have the Duchess of Cambridge as their patron), the royal couple were also joined by their two eldest children, Prince George and Princess Charlotte, and Kate’s parents, Carole and Michael Middleton.

And of course, 4-year-old Princess Charlotte stole the show after she stuck her tongue out at the crowds when her mother asked her to wave to onlookers – much to the amusement of her mum and grandmother. Cute!

Meghan’s clothing line and book
Blimey, we have a ho of all trades here.
Yes, it was announced recently that Meghan is apparently teaming up with Marks and Spencers to design a clothing range in the very near future.
I don’t know if anybody told Meghan this, but Marks and Sparks is hardly haute couture; I’m willing to bet she approached Givenchy, but they quickly told her where to go.

Let’s be real here, Marks and Spencer’s do better food than they do clothes and they’re really more of a place you’d dash in to buy your kid’s socks at the last minute before they go back to school, but if Meghan thinks she can elevate their profile and turn them into the next Harrods, more power to her.

And a book! Yes, she apparently wants to pen a children’s book. About what exactly, I couldn’t tell you – but I’m willing to bet she’ll somehow make it all about herself.

There once was a little girl named Meghan, who grew up with a cruel and evil father, who paid for her private education and supported her no matter what, and a wonderful amazing mother, who allegedly did time at one point and missed out on a portion of her childhood.

Little Meggy spent her days attending acting auditions, waitressing in the hopes of funding her big break and trying to ditch her hillbilly half-siblings because, you know, they were ruining her image.

After years of working the yachts, Soho House and every casting couch in Los Angeles, Meghan – who was now in her thirties and quite frankly, fucking tired – finally realised that she was never going to be Marilyn Monroe; and so, she flew to England to make a new bunch of friends and see which loaded, eligible men would have her.

It turned out – not many. Until one friend mentioned that she knew a dipshit, rich British Prince who was (incredibly) desperate for a wife and kids and would probably marry the first girl that fell into his lap.
“Excellent!” exclaimed Little Meggy. “And his grandmother’s the Queen of Britain?“

As Little Meggy and her friend clinked their glasses of champagne and downed another few rounds of sambuca, the two plotted how to put her in the Prince’s path.
A few awkward dates and a couple of long-distance shags later, Little Meggy was certain she was on her way to becoming Prince Prat’s wife.
And one evening, after too many glasses of wine and as Meghan set a roast chicken alight while trying to make a ‘romantic’ dinner, (she shouldn’t have pretended to know how to cook), Prince Prat popped the question – and asked her to become his wife.

Yes! This was it! Little Meggy and her Magical Boobs had done it. She was going to be a Princess!
Some six months later, Little Meggy and Prince Prat married at Windsor Castle (even though Meggy had thrown a tantrum about the dusty church and expressed a desire to marry at Westminster Abbey instead) and at last, she was Princess Meggy of Slutsex.

Not long after, and following several occasions of Princess Meggy viciously flushing her birth control down the palace’s toilet, she became pregnant and gave birth to a son, Prince Archie.

Ok… so he wasn’t a Prince and she didn’t actually give birth to him herself, but it wasn’t like Princess Meggy was going to let that old trout The Queen tell her what her son could or could not be called. Or how he was delivered (via Amazon prime, actually).

All that aside – they all lived happily ever after.
(Until Meghan got fed up of high society dinners and being stuck at home with a baby and fucked off back to America.)

Ok – I’m not sure that’s quite the version she was planning on penning, but mine is probably more factual and deserving of a Nobel Prize, so Meghan, feel free to take your cue from me.
How the “Fab Four” fell apart
Well, I’m not so sure there was ever a “fab four” to begin with, but let’s humour the headlines a sec.
Apparently the real fall-out between the Cambridges and the Sussexes happened just after Ginger and Nutmeg’s wedding last year, when the Sussexes stormed over to Will and Kate’s house in the middle of night to have it out with them.

Apparently dear old Meggers didn’t feel that she was “getting enough support” from the Cambridges and so, riled her new husband up and sent him over to yell at his brother, Jeremy Kyle-style.

Yeah – a woman who had just gotten married decided to go toe-to-toe with a woman who’d just had a baby – because apparently neither woman had anything more important to be focusing on at that point in their lives. Just call her “Mature Meghan”.
In any case, apparently the Cambridges decided to be the bigger people and told Harry and Meghan they’d support them a bit more in the future.
Kate apparently even went over with a bunch of flowers the next day – presumably gritting her teeth the whole time to prevent her telling Meghan exactly where she could put them – and the two women even decided to go to Wimbledon together.

In any case, this story aside, I do believe there was trouble even a bit before the wedding. I think it definitely worsened afterwards but judging by the fact the BRF looked like they were re-attending Diana’s funeral at the royal wedding, I’d say relationships were frayed for quite some time.
Though if my brother and his wife stormed over to my house in the middle of the night while my three small children slept upstairs, and challenged me to some sort of dual, you can bet I’d tell them both to fuck off.
Anyway, I think it’s safe to say that relationship is damaged worse than Windsor Castle during it’s 1992 fire; and the only thing Kate will be doing next time she pops into Chez Sussex is helping Manipulative Markle pack her bags.

Anyway guys – that’s all for this week, but as there’s so much coming out of the woodwork these days, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of material for next week.
I’ll see you all then, my lovelies! π

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