Fuck you, Denmark!!

Gotta love the pearls of wisdom that have come out of Mary's mouth, like saying she'd like to enroll Christian in her old Sandy Bay infants school (she took him to paint there), saying she'd like Danish schools to have uniforms like Australian schools, and snapping at Anna from Billed Bladet and the rest of the Danish media to buzz off (the woman who discovered her and made her a celebrity), means that, unequivocally, Mary sees her life in Denmark as something she must ENDURE in order to collect all the benefits, perks, designer clothes, and lifestyle she really DESIRES. And from the looks of things, she barely ENDURES her children, too, using them as props in her neverending quest for publicity, making sure she is always carrying Christian because that way, their faces are at the same camera level. If she let Prince Pumpkinhead walk, then her face wouldn't be in the picture, right?

Her attitude in Beijing, partying happily with the Australian athletes and media while barely making appearances at Denmark's events, adds to this theory.


Mary is so ashamed of her daughter, that she ignores IsNOTabella until she's screaming bloody murder, and tries to cover up her lackluster looks by putting her in a butt-ugly $700 MINK VEST !!

Insecure bogan already passing on the stupid spending onto your daughter, now IsNOTabella is also going to learn that anything expensive must be good, even if it looks like you're wearing roadkill.


But no, couldn't possibly let go of the next heir to the throne to calm down your ugly daughter, could you? Many people have ugly kids, Mary, deal with it. Why don't you ask your sisters for advice? They have genetically doomed girls. Ask them if they despise them as much as you do IsNOTabella.


Your attitude is disgusting, Mary. Where the hell would you be if it weren't for Denmark and the slow Danes? And specifically, that near-imbecilic slow Dane you married? Would you be in Prada? Would you travel with 18 pieces of luggage ANYWHERE? Would you have Chanel handbags?

You are nothing but a disgusting whore, barely putting up with the awkward client while keeping your eyes on the wad of cash on the night table.

Fuck You, Frederik

I'm sorry, darlings, I don't care what spin the royal PR peeps or the sugar boards try to create for what happened here, what it boils down to is one out-of-control bitch Prada Princess, angry as shit over her hubby's partying, who did something so incredibly passive-aggressive that shrinks everywhere must be dying to get her into a counseling session.

Knowing that Frederik was arriving in Hobart - and don't give me any shit about Mary not knowing, because that's fucking bullshit, ok? - Mary ensured that she and everyone else would be out when Frederik arrived, leaving the Pathetic Crown Prince to knock on doors and make phone calls to find out when he could possibly be let in and reunite with his family.


Finally, Mary and gang return, and Frederik runs to greet his children. Mary does a meek kiss and hand-on-the-back thing, because she knows she's gone overboard and knows that there are photogs out there. She knows Frederik has been caught on photo and video, locked out of the house, but she can't well get out of the car and make a scene, so she makes kissy-kissy for the paps.

This is one of the more revolting stunts Mary has pulled, and my advice to Frederik is, sweetheart, you're still young enough to find yourself another woman, one who will treat both your children equally, and see you as more than a source of income.

Diapers and Prada, a.k.a. Mary in Hobart

In the first few days of this latest "private visit to Australia" by Her Royal Trashiness, we have been treated to the appearance of Holy Mother Mary going to the drugstore to buy diapers.

You've got to be kidding me, right?

Oh wait, that was AFTER Mary was photographed covering Prince Pumpkinhead's mouth as he screamed his head off at the airport, because his favorite nanny has been fired due to the fact that Christian prefers to Mummy Dearest.

The non-famewhorish thing to do would have been to ask one of the sisters to pick up a bunch of diapers, because, let's face it the ONE PACKAGE PER CHILD that Mary picked up sure ain't going to last them through the whole trip. So expect another camera-worthy trip to the drugstore.


Then we have the Country Heiress look for a simple trip to the playground. Holy fucking bogans! You'd think the bitch had just landed on the cover of Town and Country. Prada boots, vest and jacket over a pristine shirt. This sure ain't the kind of Lycra Paradise shit Mary Donaldson used to wear. And honeys, that's just the point.

Mary may not have another grand tour like her first one, where she was paraded around national monuments and decked out like the Queen Mother, but she is sure as hell going to do her best to present HER Perfect Princess persona. The persona that wears Prada boots to push her kids on a swing, the persona that travels with 18 pieces of luggage but dashes out to buy nappies. Oh, what a mum!!!

Oh, what a piece of shit famewhore bitch!

The Olympics of Self Promotion

8 years after that tragic Olympiad where famewhoring chubbette Mary Donaldson snared the imbecilic Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark, we are, once again, treated to photos of the Clown Prince Couple (love that, credit the fab RD posters) "reliving their amour" in an Olympic setting.

Yeah. What-EVAH!!!

The only Olympic thing about Fred and Mary being in Beijing is Mary's Olympic-Sized Need for Attention to the point that she has been ignoring the Danish contingent (not continent, sweeties, contingent, means the Danish team, k?) in favor of socializing with the only people who still care about Her Royal Whoriness - the Australians. You know, the people she quickly left behind as soon as it was clear Frederik was in the bag, the nationality she abandoned in a jiffy because it was more lucrative to be a Princess of Denmark? The only people who understand her when she talks because between her faux-English accent, her bad Danish, and her bad-native English, we just can't understand the words that are coming out of her mouth!!!


However, that doesn't stop us from enjoying ourselves at Mary's expense, beginning with the Olympic-Sized amounf of makeup Miss Perfect Skin wore to the sweltering opening ceremonies. You can see it here, melting off her sun-damaged, large-pored, overly madeup face.


The array of shit that has been Mary's wardrobe begins with this ludicrous print dress that resembles a sausage casing due to the unfortunate panel of ruching and the fact that Mary should have worn one size bigger.

Sorry, Mares, you are no longer the emaciated skeleton from the week before your wedding. Which is a good thing, but you are no longer "sample size" as Australian Vogue breathlessly declared. You must dress to the body you have now if you are to look semi-decent.


Another bad "trend" that Princess Loser wears probably because it's expensive, never mind that it does nothing for her Macho Macho Man figure was this black dress, better suited to a petite type like Letizia, not a lumberjack-wannabe like Mary and her tranny sister.


The only semi-decent ensemble was this navy blouse with white pants - gee, Mary, would it have killed you to wear the blouse in RED?? You know, Denmark's colors? Sheesh, do I have to do all the thinking here?? - which reminded me of the evening gown Mme. Bruni-Sarkozy wore on her spectacular visit to the UK.

Maybe that is what Mary is doing, copying someone with style. And frankly, considering she is such an ignorant slag who doesn't know quality unless it has a label on it, that's what she should do, copy someone with style. Because Mary, you are a soon-to-be-40-year-old woman who still dresses like she has no clue. Because you HAVE no clue, and that idiot "stylist" of yours doesn't have a clue, either, she just uses you to get HER name out there, is what I think, and everyone at the Palace laughs when you leave the house with your bra showing, or, quel horreur!, with your UNDERWEAR showing, your stupid whore.