More Stupid Royalty Tricks
Take a gander at this little gem of a quote from the Prince of Wales' public statement, extracted from an article about his retarded son's public stupidity of two days ago:
No, you beak-nosed, simian, inbred half-wit; it's not "the end of the matter." Millions of people died at the hands of the Nazis, and the very least one can expect from you useless, mutt-lipped, money sponging royals is that you teach your null-brained spawn the very simple equivalency of "Nazi=BAD." Spell it out with flashcards and hang it around his scrawny neck if you have to, but make sure he learns it well. The little punk is preparing to go to Sandhurst where he will, ostensibly, learn to be an officer in the British military. That would be the military that protects your privilege to be a pointless social artifact who produces nothing, has no job skills or redeeming qualities, and is a continual burden on the British taxpayer. My dog has more useful functions than you do.
So stop whining and simpering like the no-account, oxygen-thief moron you are, and make the little bastard apologize in front of the Auschwitz memorial site. And go with him, you intellectually-stunted waste of protoplasm; evidently you have some history to catch up on, as well.
I love royalty. Really.
"As far as the Prince is concerned Harry has apologised for his mistake. He has said sorry and that is the end of the matter."
No, you beak-nosed, simian, inbred half-wit; it's not "the end of the matter." Millions of people died at the hands of the Nazis, and the very least one can expect from you useless, mutt-lipped, money sponging royals is that you teach your null-brained spawn the very simple equivalency of "Nazi=BAD." Spell it out with flashcards and hang it around his scrawny neck if you have to, but make sure he learns it well. The little punk is preparing to go to Sandhurst where he will, ostensibly, learn to be an officer in the British military. That would be the military that protects your privilege to be a pointless social artifact who produces nothing, has no job skills or redeeming qualities, and is a continual burden on the British taxpayer. My dog has more useful functions than you do.
So stop whining and simpering like the no-account, oxygen-thief moron you are, and make the little bastard apologize in front of the Auschwitz memorial site. And go with him, you intellectually-stunted waste of protoplasm; evidently you have some history to catch up on, as well.
I love royalty. Really.
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