Charles and Camilla: The Last to Know the Party Is Over
Archaic traditions. Side chicks. Crowns. The British Royal Family. Vanderpump Rules. Is anyone gonna get up at dawn to watch this dying institution limp along?
I admit to having a certain kind of morbid fascination with the British Royal Family mainly due to the fact that these inbred colonizers aren’t regarded as bygone relics of a crumbling empire. They still enjoy an elevated societal position in this, the year of our Lord, Two-Thousand Twenty-Three based on bloodline and pedigree.
Take the coronation. King Charles was smart enough to cancel a state visit to France when graffiti threatening the new king with the guillotine surfaced amid the pension reform strike. However, he won’t be deterred from dragging a golden carriage through the streets before a crowd ravaged by post-Brexit austerity, inept Tory rule, and a cost of living crisis forcing his royal subjects to choose between feeding their families or heating their homes. Never mind the hundreds of millions in taxes King Charles didn’t have to pay when he inherited his mother’s fortune. Keep it up and the guillotine might find its way over to Salt Island (a term Kaiser at Celebitchy uses for the UK, which I love).
Frankly, I can’t get enough of the videos of antimonarchist demonstrators throwing eggs at these two walking skin tags and booing every time Charles and Camilla step out to greet the public. I just wish they had better aim.
This spectacle would be funny if the hundreds of millions of dollars used to produce it couldn’t be put to better use feeding people going hungry amid the cost of living crisis. Also, why should anyone show up in the cold, English rain when the royal family already chased away the sexy, charming, loved-up couple who are totally horny for each other in favor of the couple can barely stand the sight of each other and have the combined sex appeal of a pile of toenail clippings.
I hope any royalists on this side of the pond enjoy getting up at the dawn on a Saturday to watch the couple who teamed up to gaslight and manipulate a teenager (aka Charles’ first wife) as a cover for their decades-long affair ascend to the throne. Gotta love a happy ending.
Oh, and crown watchers can keep an eye out for Prince Andrew. Speaking of …
I just wanna drag Prince Andrew for a minute cause that guy sucks
It’s amazing (but not entirely surprising) to me that frequent Lolita Express flier Prince Andrew has been shielded from almost all accountability (aside from a multimillion-dollar payout to Epstein victim Virginia Giuffre to avoid more damning details coming out in court) amid credible sex-trafficking allegations just because the woman he fell out of over 60 years ago happened to be a popular monarch. Instead of living a quiet life of introspection and contemplation after his two BFFs got locked up for sex trafficking crimes he was accused of being party to, this entitled clown still thinks he’s one well-placed article in a daily broadsheet away of being welcomed back to public life.
Anyhoo, here’s a photo from Andrew and his late wingman in happier times, on a yacht in Thailand (THAILAND!), courtesy of the Daily Mail:
Dude should have fallen down an elevator shaft a long time ago.
I’m bad at promoting myself …
Every now and again, someone invites me on their podcast for whatever misguided reason. I’m gonna share a couple recent appearances, and if you wanna listen, that’s your business.
In February, I was on the awesome podcast Songs My Ex Ruined, hosted by culture writer/author Courtney E. Smith and produced by Nevermind Media founder/my buddy (brag) Melissa Locker.
“If You Were Here” is that synth song that plays at the end of Sixteen Candles, and a dude ruined it for me 25 fucking years ago. If you think I’m not still holding a grudge, think again.
More recently, I had the honor of recapping an episode of Vanderpump Rules on the aptly titled Vanderpump Robs podcast, hosted and produced by the great Rob Schulte. Scandoval has given me a renewed purpose in life. I don’t care how pathetic that sounds.
And later this month, I’ll be at a Vanderpump Robs live show at Pete’s Candy Store in Brooklyn. I don’t leave the house much these days, so bring a tranquilizer gun in case I go feral.
Till next time.
Xo,
Maggie
My brother lives in Wales; electricity tripled over the last two winters. And bc of food hikes he’s eating lots of porridge! Love all your writing.