Egotastic
As you may know, after Kate Middleton becomes the Queen of England, she and I have a secret plan to abscond with her from the castle and take her to the woods to be my rebel hottie squeeze. The plan is so secret that not even Kate knows about it yet, only my allergists, the right and honorable Dr. Franz Ketchum, who has been inoculating me with various antibodies for several months now so my peat moss allergies won't cause me undue discomfort when I do abscond to a woodland environment.
I can't remember a royal that I just liked leering at so much as the Duchess of Cambridge. Out at a screening for the film African Cats, with Prince Bill somewhere in tow, Kate just compels me to want to scale her battlements and enter her humid castle keep with my lance extended. That's it, I've run out of crude analogies. Enjoy.
When Kate Middleton Flashes Leg, I See My Life Flashing Before Me
As you know, I've had plans in place for some time now to rescue Kate Middleton from the House of Windsor, specifically, Buckingham Palace and her life of dedication to the crown and Prince Bill. But only after she becomes Queen will she become my queen, as I charge the ramparts with nothing but my trustee steed ('92 Corolla) and my lance (okay, you know what that is) and whisk away her royal hotness to the woods of Sherwood where together we're dine on spitfire roaster possum and raw sex.
That's the plan at least. And every time Kate shows up in public looking like she did at the Claridge Hotel last evening in London, her lean hot royal body and regal beagle on display, not to mention a little leg beneath a slit in her dress, well, all the details of the plan, a likely suicide mission, it all just flashes before me eyes like Destiny itself.
Honestly, I'd settle for just an above the knee caress before my beheading. Enjoy.