CrownsOfBritain

Well hello all — hope you had a good weekend, a good week so far and welcome to the next royal round up! I cannot believe the first week of September is already through!

With things getting underway with Harry and Meghan’s visit, and me glancing back and realising I stupidly missed some key items from the last couple of royal round-ups, let’s get stuck in at some of the royal items currently on the circuit!

Meghan and the Mandela comment

You know what, I was going to comment on what Meghan had originally said about this in my last post, but even I couldn’t utter this one, for fear of my fingers breaking on the keyboard due to the unbelievable narcissistic nature.

Yes, Markle deigned to declare that she had met one of the “South African” actors of the live action remake of The Lion King at the London premiere and that he had said the following to her upon meeting her:

“He looked at me, and he’s just like light. He said, “I just need you to know: When you married into this family, we rejoiced in the streets the same we did when Mandela was freed from prison.’

Yes, Meghan actually said this with a straight face.

Firstly:

Just when I think I can’t be shocked any more by this woman, her ability to shove her head even further up her own arse continues to astound me. This chick really thinks she’s the second coming, huh?

While I attempted to get over the shock that Meghan Markle– a little-known actress off a cable TV show whose acting credits on her resume include ‘hot chick’– actually compared herself to an influential and historical figure, Markle’s bubble was quickly popped when none other than Nelson Mandela’s grandson piped up, (quite rightly) furious that the two-bit maneater dared to compare herself to his grandfather.

Mandla Mandela was quick to take a steaming hot shite over Meghan’s bogus claims, stating that ‘there were “not any celebrations that you would have seen at a large scale as you could compare” to his grandfather’s release from prison.’

One was a gargantuan anti-apartheid activist who was wrongly imprisoned for 27 years– the other is some ungrateful brat from California who duped a dimwitted (but rich and titled) British layabout into marrying her after a year of dating. Is there really a comparison?

Mandla went on to say:

“I have said on numerous occasions that if we are to even compare Madiba’s release to anything, it would be to the abolishment of slavery. That is the only thing that we can somewhat surmount what our struggle for liberation celebration could be compared to.”

Oh God, don’t get Meghan started on ‘slavery’, mate. She’d be all like:

But the debunking of Meghan’s Pile of Merde didn’t stop there!

Dr John Kani, who is by his own claims the only South African cast member in the Disney remake of The Lion King, says he has never met Megs, nor was he even at the bloody premiere she claims she spoke to him at. He was all like:

He went on to say:

The only South African was me playing Rafiki. But I did not go to the opening in Leicester Square as I didn’t have the time to do that. It just may be a mis-remembering on her side

Or a barefaced lie.

Jonno man, I wouldn’t overthink it – you could do yourself an injury trying to wrap your head around Markle’s bullshit. It is quite clear, to me at least, that she gave a very vague description of who she had spoken to in the hopes that nobody would go to try and verify who it was that said it.

I dunno Meghan…. that seems a little racist to me.

You waved a hand in the direction of a cast that is 99% black, referencing a ‘South African actor’, just hoping we would assume any one of them fit the bill and just say “oh, ok, cool!”.

But keen to cover her backside in case we did catch her out in a lie, like we did, Meghan didn’t forget an attempt to tug on the heartstrings by telling us:

“It was a cruel chapter. I had just had Archie– I was scared to go out.”

For somebody who was ‘scared to leave the house’, she didn’t seem to have much trouble spending all summer after Archie’s birth zooming about on private jets to France, Spain and Italy– getting drunk at the Clooney’s Lake Como mansion and attending some other rich fucker’s wedding in Rome.

Girl, don’t give us that crap and next time you’re going to make up shit to make us all think you’re hot shit, remember that people can and will chase you up on such wild claims.

Harry and Meghan arrive in the U.K.

Yep – Hurricane Harkle made landfall in London on Sunday night (shame the massive thunderstorm we had didn’t deter them) and now we’re stuck with them for the next week (save for a couple of days in Germany — sorry guys. You don’t deserve that either.)

Staying at Frogmore Cottage, just a stone’s throw from the Cambridges who moved to Adelaide Cottage last weekend, it is said that the four will not reunite– despite being less than half a mile from each other.

If there was ever any doubt there’s bad blood between the two brothers, I think this has eliminated it; they are staying on the same estate for the best part of a week and won’t even meet up for dinner? Although I’ve no idea what Kate might say after a few chardonnays.

But back to the visit and in true Sussex fashion, it’s not worth it if you’re not papped!

Harry and Meg were spotted leaving Frogmore in a car yesterday morning, as they prepared to make their way to Manchester to attend the One Young World summit.

And then they stunned us all by getting on a train. Yes, a train from London Euston to Manchester Piccadilly. Something tells me that one wasn’t Meg’s idea.

I don’t know if the penny finally dropped that they look hypocritical as all hell preaching climate change while flying about on a private airliner, or if the jet was indeed in the garage for repairs, but this was definitely yet another PR stunt.

They’ve also gone out of their way to copy the Cambridges by doing this too, who frequently take the train around the UK for engagements.

But Day 1 of us having to endure Harry and Meghan wasn’t yet over; we now had to listen to Meg give a speech.

Meghan took to the stage in Manchester in a bright red ensemble, attempting to look business-like but more closely resembling a teletubby, to tell us all about… well.. herself.

She spoke of her “nervousness” and the “pinch-me moment” of her first summit. “I was the girl from Suits, and I was surrounded by world leaders, humanitarians, prime ministers and activists,” 

By the 2019 summit, she said it was “fair to say, my life had changed”. Talking about motherhood, Meghan said: “My worldview had expanded exponentially, seeing the global community through the eyes of my child [Archie, born 6 May 2019], and I would ask what is this world he would come to adopt, and what can we do, what can I do to make it better.”

She was thrilled once again to be back with Harry. “To meet again here with him by my side makes it all feel full circle,” she said.

Fucking hell– does she ever not make something about herself?

But wait! There’s more of The Meghan Life Chronicles as she droned on about that time she spoke at the UN because it’s probably the only vaguely impressive thing she has done in 41 years, aside from conning her way into the Royal Family.

“And I was allowed in, to pull up a seat at the table. I was so overwhelmed by this experience, I think, I think I even saved my little paper place-marker with my name on it.

“Just proof: proof that I was there, proof that I belonged, because the truth was, I wasn’t sure that I belonged. I was so nervous, I doubted myself and I wondered, wondered if I was good enough to be there?”

But she added One Young World, “saw in me, just as I see in you, the present and the future”

Jesus Christ.

And what does she mean ‘meet here again’? When has she ever been to Manchester?

If she means the UK, she can fuck off; we all know she hates us and we hate her too, which is why I find it especially hard to believe the next paragraph The Guardian put out:

Meghan, who arrived hand in hand with Harry, received huge cheers as she walked on to the stage at Manchester’s Bridgewater Hall before 2,300 delegates. Her last UK speech was in March 2020 on International Women’s Day.

Que?

I mean… just head out in the UK and talk to people– you will be hard pressed to find anyone that actually likes this woman after the disrespect she has shown our nation, so ‘loud cheers’ I am not sure about.

And it’s nice of her to throw Archie a cursory mention, you know, just to remind us she has Harry by the balls for child support for the rest of his life.

Real talk– I cannot be the only person that is growing concerned about this trip? This could all be for Netflix but I have a horrible sinking feeling that they are trying to push themselves back into the fold because things aren’t quite working out for them the way they hoped in Cali.

I feel like they’re trying to make it seem like they’re ‘living their best life’ (I actually despise that phrase) on the outside, but they’re trying to keep all doors open for a return if needed. I mean otherwise, really, what is the point to this meaningless non- royal ‘tour’?

This is clearly some sort of promotional run for The Meghan Show, because Harry has completely take a backseat in his own life.

Whatever the agenda is, I hope they bugger off fairly quickly and don’t come back.

There’ll be more to cover off from this week in my next post I’m sure (as I’ve seen they’ve just arrived in Germany), but until then Harry & Meggy, you’ve repeatedly stuck two fingers up at us, so we will repeatedly stick them back up at you.

The Cut Interview

I can’t believe I entirely missed this one off my last post!

Well, actually…. I sort of can, as I mainly write these on my lunchbreak at work and am usually quite fearful of bringing up my Cornish pasty while having to take one for the team and view Meghan’s nauseating, self-adoring content, but once I skimmed through it, I realised I couldn’t miss an opportunity to comment.

For last week, it was Meghan’s interview with The Cut that did send hordes of readers racing for the bathrooms, as she tried at her hand at being a model (failing abysmally) and bleated on about her ‘new life in California’, where she milks cows, rears chickens and bakes cakes made out of sunshine or some shit.

However, as bad as the photos are, they cannot be anywhere near as bad as the vomit-inducing wording of this article/interview, that Meghan clearly demanded to proof-read six times to make her seem as down-to-earth and amazing as possible.

First, she makes sure it starts with her looking like Mother of the Year:

It is a beautiful August day in Montecito, in a beautiful sitting room, in a beautiful home. Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor, a lively 3-year-old with a shock of ginger curls identical to his father’s, toddles into the room demanding “Momma” listen to his heartbeat with a wooden toy stethoscope. He stands, tummy protruding, while his mother, Meghan, convincingly performs her glee at hearing the thump-thump, thump-thump in his chest. Archie giggles and, satisfied, toddles right back out again.

I do admire Meghan’s solid attempt at making it seem like her son, usually left with Nanny Number 15, even realised she was ‘momma’– let alone the chances Meghan even recognised him. When he walked into the room, she was probably like:

It gets even more kumbaya and shit when Meg no doubt forces the interviewer to pen the next paragraph of poo, trying to make her look like like some sort of artsy, ethereal humanitarian:

Meghan, relaxing in a cozy chair, gazes over all that is climate-controlled and high-ceilinged and sun-dappled and perfectly marshmallowy, and hers. An invisible hand has lit a Soho House–branded rose-water candle (the founder, Nick Jones, is a friend from “long before I met Harry,” she says), and that scent fills the air, mingling with the gentle tones of a flamenco-inflected guitar floating from a speaker. Then, in the lull in conversation, Meghan turns to me and leans forward to ask in a conspiratorial hush, “Do you want to know a secret?”

Meghan, silenced no more, looks around, making sure nobody (who would be?) is listening in. Then the top-secret drop: “I’m getting back … on Instagram,” she says, her eyes alight and devilish.

‘Climate controlled’? Where was it the private jet’s parked again?

And it isn’t long before Meghan is launching into her woe-is me, everyone-in-Britain-is-a-massive-racist tirade, as she tells the interviewer (whose name I don’t give enough of a shit to learn):

“Why would I give the very people that are calling my children the N-word a photo of my child before I can share it with the people that love my child?” she asks, still ruffled. “You tell me how that makes sense and then I’ll play that game.”

I’ll tell you how, dear Meghan; probably because no one called your children that to begin with.

Seriously, when and how did this occur? Does she really think any reputable news outlet worth their salt would call a baby such an outrageously racist term in their publication? Get real.

And then, comes perhaps my favourite paragraph of all:

Though she has been media trained and then royal-media trained and sometimes converses like she has a tiny Bachelor producer in her brain directing what she says (at one point in our conversation, instead of answering a question, she will suggest how I might transcribe the noises she’s making: “She’s making these guttural sounds, and I can’t quite articulate what it is she’s feeling in that moment because she has no word for it; she’s just moaning”), at this stage, post-royal, there’s no need for her to hold back. 

She did what, mate?

So… she actually sat there, bellowing like a cow in labour pushing out a breech calf, and then turns to the interviewer like:

I swear there is something majorly wrong with this woman.

But oh no… you guessed it… the Meghan Show droned on as she held out her plastic cup for yet more sympathy:

Their accepted exit terms (or “Megxit,” to use the term the papers favored, even though Harry declared it misogynistic) stipulated that the couple would no longer make appearances on behalf of the queen, would no longer be permitted to use the HRH designation, and would make their own money (though Prince Charles provided some financial assistance for the first year). They were left sans public funding to bankroll both their lives and the security that protected those lives, and the press had just leaked the location of the coastal home they were staying in. By March 2020, the pandemic was under way, and there was talk of the Canadian-U.S. border closing. They could see men on boats watching them from the water.

Where in the fuck do I begin with this one?

How utterly devastating for them; while hundreds of thousands of people lost their lives to Coronavirus as the first wave of it came crashing through the planet like a tsunami, families were separated and many of us were kept away from hospitals and visiting our loved ones, please do spare a thought for Harry and Meghan who had to get jobs like everyone else, pay their own way and face the same travel restrictions the entire planet was also dealing with.

Do fuck off Meghan.

The last two sentences are an absolute joke; you’re not a Ukrainian family escaping war-torn Kiev in the dead of night because your home and all your worldly possessions have been obliterated by a missile right in front of you– you’re two petutulant, privileged arseholes who are whining because you’re not being accompanied to your new Santa Barbara mansion by a team of protection officers in a fleet of SUVs.

And ‘there were men on boats watching us’? Yeah, it was probably the officials for the Canadian-US border trying to fight over which country would be burdened with housing the three of you.

But the drivel continues as the interviewer staples her tongue firmly to Meghan’s arsehole, going on about how ‘warm and glossy’ she is:

My first glimpse of Meghan in this new chapter is her crouched in the entryway, arms wrapped around her black Lab, Pula (Setswana for rain and good fortune and a tribute to an early date during the couple’s whirlwind romance in 2016). The front doors are thrown wide open, as are the doors leading out to the backyard. She stands and smiles with the perfect level of warmth, the gleam of her teeth rivaled only by the shininess of her blowout.

Oh please. And did all the woodland creatures swarm around her too, with hummingbirds forming a halo atop her glossy, fat head?

Yes, keen to show she is not just a great mother, and to undo some of the damage she has done to her previous dogs (maybe she read my last blog), she made sure to hug the dog at the precise moment she threw open the front door to Arse-Licker Interviewer.

It continues:

Finding a house to start their new life wasn’t easy, Meghan tells me. “We were looking in this area” — she’s referring to Montecito, the tony beachside hamlet north of Los Angeles — “and this house kept popping up online in searches.” At first, they’d resisted going to visit. “We didn’t have jobs, so we just were not going to come and see this house. It wasn’t possible. It’s like when I was younger and you’re window shopping — it’s like, I don’t want to go and look at all the things that I can’t afford. That doesn’t feel good.”

Firstly– “we didn’t have jobs”.

Secondly, please don’t start pretending you were so skint you couldn’t afford a pint of milk because that horrid royal family wouldn’t pay for your big house after you told them to go fuck themselves.

Oh poor little Meghan, who couldn’t afford the $50million Montecito mansion– how utterly terrible! As we head into a cost of living crisis here in the UK this winter, where many households will have to choose between feeding their kids or heating their home, I’m deeply saddened to hear of Meghan Markle’s plight where she could not afford a million-dollar mansion.

But get the mansion she does, giving a grand tour to Arse-Licker Interviewer, telling us yet more crap that never happened:

“One of the first things my husband saw when we walked around the house was those two palm trees,” she coos. “See how they’re connected at the bottom? He goes, ‘My love, it’s us.’  And now every day when Archie goes by us, he says, ‘Hi, Momma. Hi, Papa.” 

I’m also keen to not go much further without revisiting the ‘princess’ reference she makes to herself.

 “It’s important to be thoughtful about it because — even with the Oprah interview, I was conscious of the fact that there are little girls that I meet and they’re just like, ‘Oh my God, it’s a real-life princess.’ ” 

Come off it. You were on the scene for four seconds– most children have absolutely no idea who you are. Not to mention that not a single kid I’ve ever seen her interact with seems to even be looking at her, so it’s not likely they’re fawning over her.

Now she’s going as far as to even make up quotes from young kids, because she can be even vaguer this time and there can be absolutely no way of verifying this.

But her ambitions for herself (and the little girls who look up to her) are more than to marry into a position. “I just look at all of them and think, You have the power within you to create a life greater than any fairy tale you’ve ever read. I don’t mean that in terms of ‘You could marry a prince one day.’ I mean you can find love. You can find happiness. You can be up against what could feel like the greatest obstacle and then you can find happiness again.”

Oh, do you fuck.

Meghan, we all know that all you are thinking during these alleged interactions (assuming they took place, which I doubt) is how hard you have to focus in order to keep your face composed so you don’t spontaneously combust with glee, self-importance and pure narcissism.

And it wouldn’t be an episode of The Meghan Show without her throwing in a grain of how ‘down-to-earth’ she is, all while telling a story of how she felt someone else felt she was just too important to get near… which sort of screams bigheaded instead, but hey ho.

These days, they are getting back out there together. Recently, Meghan says, they took Archie to a birthday party for a classmate; everyone was surprised they showed up. “I was in a bouncy castle, and I saw this 1-year-old inside. I was like, ‘Where’s your mom?’ And this mom on the outside goes, ‘Oh, hi! I’m here. I wasn’t sure if I should come in.’ ” She laughs. “I was like, ‘Do you need your child? Of course you can come in.’ ”

“I’m sooooo down to earth but everyone was just soooo surprised we showed up, because we are just sooooo important, rich and famous.”

It isn’t long before she launches back into SuperMum Mode; ever the doting ‘momma’, she hops in the car and heads to Archie’s nursery to pick him up herself.

On the way back from picking up a kid who she thinks is Archie, Meghan puts the finishing touches to her almighty PR stunt:

At a stoplight, she reaches into the trunk and produces a brand-new black backpack and hands it to her security detail to give to an unhoused man on the corner. They are teaching Archie that some people live in big houses, some in small, and that some are in between homes. They made kits to pass out with water and peanut-butter crackers and granola bars. “I ate one!” Archie contributes.

How many times do we think she had to remind the interviewer to make sure she included this in the finished article?

Honestly, could this get any more pretentious?

I honestly much prefer Kate who doesn’t fuck about on the way back from the school run; just bundles the kids in the car and heads home without having some faux-humanitarian crap set up for the benefit of the interviewer and readers so she could look like Cinderella.

Nah, Kate all the way.

Guys, luckily it was almost the end of the ‘article’ (thank fuck) so I had to leave it there because I honestly could not take one more second of that complete and utter tripe. I don’t know what they were paying Arse-Licker Interviewer to write that steaming pile of crap, but you could not pay me enough money in the world to salivate over a nobody like that.

Nope. Sorry. That was the most difficult thing I have ever had to read in my life and I will never be doing it again.

Well that’s it for now!

As I say, I’ve seen that Ginger and Nutmeg have arrived in Germany for Invictus, but I just don’t have the strength — let’s save that one for next week.

Until then, have a great rest of the week, stay out of trouble and I’ll see you again next time!