Peeing with the Queen!

Well, hello, my loves!

Today, I skipped on over to Buckingham Palace, where I had a tour of the state rooms and saw all of the Queen’s beautiful diamonds (ooooh, aaaah). The whole place was just magnificent, but the tour was very long, so at the end I just had to pee so badly. I headed to the garden in the back of the palace and into the shed-like bathroom (um hello, we’re in a PALACE!) to let myself loose, but when I opened one of the stall doors, someone was already squatting over the toilet, grunting like an overly obnoxious weightlifter. “Lock a door, would you?” I scoffed, and then the woman looked up in shock. IT WAS THE QUEEN. I WALKED IN ON THE QUEEN TAKING A DUMP. AND I JUST TOLD HER OFF. HOLY SHIT. HOLY ROYAL SHIT.

So after that moment of utter embarrassment, I walked away in awe and went to relieve myself in a stall that was actually vacant. Gotta say, the stall was pretty plain for someone of the Queen’s stature. What the hell was she doing crapping in here?

The lovely loo where the Queen gets to expel her waste on the daily.

When I was done, I headed out to wash my hands, and lo and behold, there’s a fucking five-woman security team surrounding the Queen. And of course all of them turn to glare at me when the Queen informs them that I’m the one who just told her highness off.

“It is vastly impolite to speak to Your Majesty in that manner!” one scolded me.

“Well, why the hell didn’t she lock the door, and what the hell was she doing in the bathroom of the commoners?!” (Okay, I’m a princess, but that’s beside the point.)

“You think our bathrooms actually work in the palace, you silly girl? Those are just for show,” the Queen interjected. “They’re 300 years old and clog with a drop of urine. It’s imperative that I do my business out here.” And with that, she exited in her stately manner, surrounded by her entourage.

The majestic sink where I exchanged words with the Queen and her entourage.

So today I learned the Buckingham Palace bathrooms don’t actually do jack shit, and I got to hang out in the actual bathroom with the Queen. I think I may actually be the shit.

Got Balls?

Bathrooms are supposed to be private. They’re supposed to be that coveted sanctuary where I can drop my pants and let it all out without any shame, moaning “AHHH” as the urine flows into my toilet’s porcelain confines. But this bathroom wasn’t like that. This one had a gigantic window behind the toilet. AND IT WAS WIDE OPEN.

I ended up in this facility – squashed into a corner at the top of a staircase – during a mid-afternoon snack at this amazing West End bakery with chocolate cheesecake suited for a princess. Needless to say, after all that goodness, the cake charged right through me, and I just had to go. So, I excused myself, headed to the powder room, and here I find it…the open window. I tried to close it, but the damn thing was stuck, so I hoped no one in the courtyard outside would notice me doing my business. I made it through the urination portion without a peep from anyone outside, but right as I was about to let the cake out of my arse, I felt something.


“CRAP! Sorry lady!” the kid screamed. Yeah, you arse, don’t you know to never hit a princess? GOD.

But anyway, though slightly concussed, I managed to finish shitting out my cake. After wiping and dressing, I went to go flush the toilet, but alas, the flush was nowhere to be found. FUCK. My shit was literally filling the toilet, too, so I seriously needed to get rid of it. I looked around, to no avail, so growing frustrated, I tilted my head back so I could let out a scream of frustration…and that’s when I noticed a piece of wire floating above, connected to a flushing apparatus with a beautiful face penned on it. MAGIC. I’D NEVER SEEN ONE OF THOSE BEFORE.

I tugged THAT shit, and down went MY shit. A royal flush. PIECE OF CAKE.