Queen Mouthy

I’ve been thinking about fame in general a lot lately and how awesome it must be.  If you’re famous, people buy clothes for you, fix your hair, make your bed.  There are multiple chances a year to wear sequins.  You can hire someone just to teach you how to stand so you look good in pictures.  Adoring fans want to know what you’re doing and what you’re wearing so they can go do and wear the same things.  You never have to complain that there’s nothing on TV because chances are, you’re on.  You would thus never find yourself watching Jersey Shore at 2AM unless, of course, you’re on Jersey Shore.

I’ve also been thinking about fame in general and how much it must suck.  If a photographer snaps a picture of you mid-blink, suddenly you are on the cover of a magazine facing a DISASTROUS MARRIAGE CRISIS!  Your kids are pictured in these magazines next to other famous kids under the title, “WHICH CELEBRITY CHILD IS BEST DRESSED?”  You need to apply full-on movie make-up to take out the garbage.  You have to decide between having Botox to keep you looking young or skipping it to keep you looking human.  Then one day oops, you wear a patterned dress to the Grammys and suddenly, WHAMO, out you go.  Adios amigo.  Don’t come back.

But I’ve found a loophole—the perfect way to be famous.  Forever.  All you have to do is: marry British royalty. 

Think about it.  You don’t have to be talented at anything—you just need a charming personality.  (Or if you’re his cousin, I think that works too.)  Instead of spending years as the impoverished aspiring actor, you are courted and doted on by a prince.  You get to live in a castle and you can wear a tiara or crown any day of the week.  You develop a killer accent.  No matter how old and wrinkled you get, you’ll still be famous.  And since the British royalty has essentially no political power or responsibilities, the whole point of your public appearances is just to show off the fruits of your most recent shopping spree.  

I told all this to Kevin and he, ever the gentlemen, responded by doing some research on “most eligible princes.”  The best he came up with was His Imperial and Royal Highness Georg Friedrich Ferdinand, whose personality is described as “punctual.” 

Coincidentally, I asked Kevin what he thought about this blog post and he responded, “Punctual.”

Well, “punctual” would at least be an upgrade from “smartass.”

Taco soup
Squash with butter and brown sugar
Hazelnut chocolate cookies

3 thoughts on “Queen Mouthy

  1. dude….did you see Fergie on American Idol? was it really Fergie? didn’t look like her to me. I think she was a fake…or she has had some botched up facial procedure.

    (see…..being a celebrity must be wonderful!)

  2. If I dated and married a royal, I’d have to learn how to do that stupid elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, wrist wave. I don’t think that is for me.

    Fergie looked fat BTW- being a celeb sucks, except for the money part.

  3. Yes, all of these things are very true. It is a bittersweet burden that I carry every day.

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