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cynthiafoustvenner

The Royals.

Let me start by saying, obsessed?


No.


I should have never included a ?


It should have been an !


The Crown?


Check.


Downton Abbey?


Check.


Bridgerton?


Top of the morning to ya!


You get the picture.


DIE HARD, royal supporter.


My first night of college happened to coincide with the tragic night that Princess Diana died, and I spent that evening with strangers, going between crying my eyes out, while also coincidentally playing beer pong, so therefore also pointing to cups and saying, I can't believe she's gone, but, stuttering, you're up.


Don't think so?


I have a few vouchers (witnesses).


Who would have thought 20 years later, I was able to find out why I was so distressed that night.


As it turns out, Diana was my Aunt 5,674 times removed.


My Aunt Diana.


No wonder why I was so shaken up.


Thank you, Ancestry.


It also allowed me to find out, that I am like 5 million, 7 hundred thousand, and 56th in line for the throne!


Queen Cynthia!


Coming your way, NEVER!


Yet, in my mind, now more than ever, I need to keep my future insight, especially if those two are going to help bump me up four spots.


And that means, keeping up with The Royals.


FOCUS FOUST!


EYES ON THE PRIZE.


That crown could be mine.


Ok, so here's the thing though...


I watched the Meghan and Harry Netflix special.


As if I couldn't want to be a threesome with them more anymore than I already did...because, let's face it, who wouldn't want to pucker up with those two!


My keys are in the fishbowl!


Well just as I got in my pajamas, ready to cozy up...


They kicked me square in the balls.


Hell, aren't we allowed to be, and have, whatever we want these days?!


LOOSEN UP PEOPLE.


So anyways, I thought I would be watching the movie Titanic.


Well truth be told, I imagine the tale of Meghan and Harry to be one more like, Romeo and Juliet; A Titanic Journey; a story by Mark Twain.


Except, I knew that motherfucker didn't sink, because, well just as everyone knows, this Romeo and Juliet ended up "committing (social) suicide" next to Oprah, in a 20 million dollar mansion in Montecito, whilst producing adorable children that coincidentally come with an awesome soundtrack, and adorable footage.


Sorry it didn't include you Celine.


Meanwhile I can't stop listening to She's A Rainbow.


What I had NOT seen coming out of the series was something the press have seems to have glossed over.


The Netflix doc was actually dropped some very important bombs.


But one stuck out.


And, it was WAY more important than gaining or losing a royal title.


Forget racism.


That Netflix special hit me like right after I watched Parasite.


It was a study in sociology.


It was the story of a transition.


But not the obvious one...


Their transition was more jarring to me than Caitlin's.


Please people, who DIDN'T see that one coming?!?


Anyways, theirs, HARRY AND MEGHANS, well, theirs didn't come with any warning.


I mean I know they left England, and that whole monarchy thing...but...WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK...


"H" and "M"?


oh no wait, I'm sorry, "HAZ?!"


I wasn't ready for that.


You dropped a mic on me so hard, I still haven't recovered.


Harry, did you have to pick this name?


Like how Cersei, in Game of Thrones, had to do the whole naked walk punishment thingy, for leaving the Queen in a lurch?


HAZ?!?


As in, HAZMAT?


HAZBEEN?


As in ASSHAZ?


Ok, that is NOT a thing, but now I want it to be a thing, because of my outrage at this wierdo name reveal.


I have been less shocked to find out that some my dear friends are gay.


So while I still may be Team, "M" and "Haz", my newest mission is to bring back HARRY.


Or at least find out what happened to him.


Just booked a flight to LAX.


Someone needs to be the next Barbara Walters and get to the bottom of this shit.


Too soon?


Xoxo,

C.




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