It’s a slow, stupid day in America. Is anything really happening today, besides the low hum of Senate machinations and impending climate doom? No, I don’t think so. So let’s use this relative lull in our usual dystopian churn to gaze eastward, across yon “pond” to our pals in merry ol’ England. How’re things going over there, you ask? As it turns out: not great. The pound is shitting the bed; the Prime Minister is shitting the bed; the King has chubby dildo fingers… it’s bad news all around.
Given this miasma of economic and political necrosis roiling the country, it’s not altogether surprising to see the next generation of British royals already starting to flex their nascent monarchal impulse to crush even the slightest hint of plebian unrest.
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