UptownGuyIssues

whitegirlproblemz:

Lesson learned from Ice Loves Coco: if I can overcome my disdain for lucite heels, it shouldn’t be too hard to find a rich guy who loves my fat white ass.

It’s as if everyone has set phasers on patronize.

Met nice countess at dinner last night. I asked her how much she knew about the US. She said “always get VIP at Coachella and Donald Trump is a bell end”. I may have misjudged these royals. Will try to politely ask if she was a commoner before marriage.

I was worried my outfit may be a bit too much. Then I remembered Elton John and Boris Johnson would be there.

Trying to spot the worse case of in-breeding will make the ceremony fly by.

Turns out that asking the organizers to have the charity invitees wear badges, so you can avoid talking to them, is not in the spirit of the occasion.

Normally I am Mr. Last Minute for everything, but when this many royals and diplomats are in one place you better book ahead for key provisions. It rhymes with “lookers”.

Being in London means I am missing Afrojack’s show, at my house. It happens more often than you’d think.

OK, after some haggling I got 10 percent of the ticket cost back and I will be the only person allowed to tweet at the wedding. Feels like a victory. There better be a plug for my charger.

My guy assures me I’ve got the best seats at the wedding, but that my view may be obstructed by a crown at times. What kind of bs is this?