The British royal watching world is a flutter because that’s their static state. Lots of fucking fluttering. More so now that Prince Harry is dating an American, who also happens to be half-black, and also happens to be divorced. Also a loosely associated television actress of some bit roles. It’s considered quite the scandal. Maybe not. Who knows. Everybody in England is scrambling to find examples of their incestually pure line of Windsors and Tudors taking up with perfectable acceptable women of color.
Meghan Markle’s got the right credentials. She works for a number of global charities in between her workouts and occasional casting calls. Prince Harry has been rumored to be close to numerous women in the past, but that mostly meant he was fucking them in Vegas. He is the more interesting of Diana’s two sons and since he officially gets jack shit as the younger brother, he’s made it his mission to sneak in some snatch buffets courtesy of his regally born position.
It’s easy in America to mock the who royal business in England. Until we’re forced to admit that we invent families like the Kardashians to take their place in the collective scandal rags. And ours don’t even put on a veneer of classy. Mostly the royals do good deeds and raise money for proper causes and try to hide their inbred parts. They also at least put on a good show of military service. They’re not so bad. Adding a black chick to the mix might naturally select out that redhead recessive embarrassment. Were I the queen, I’d order some interacial fucking pronto. The kind she could only dream of for the past seventy years.
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