Prince Charles visiting the Serum Institute in Pune, India. (November 10, 2013) -Photo: Fame/Flynet, Getty, INFphoto, Pacific Coast News, Splash News, WENN
I’m guessing that he hasn’t been in Pune for a while.
the true martian leader.
I see the British royalty has outsourced their research into curing degenerative genetic defects to India.
“Prince Charles, Please let us out. We just had Indian food.”
Looks like Scientology is about to be the new official religion of England
Awww…. he’s so cute!
“Oh…oh my. I thought they only smelled this bad in dingy apartment complexes.”
A stranger. From the outside.
The claw chooses who will go and who will stay.
Seven in the pink, royal fingers stink. Jolly good!
Charles always enjoyed these little moments of superiority. As the masses begged him for mercy, leniency, or just a Snickers bar. It reminded him of his mother… and peanuts. tasty, crunchy peanuts.
“We will pray for you, Meester Preence.”
I don’t care if AIM is supporting breast cancer awareness, they’re still terrorists,
“Please Dear God, let him give us the serum that will prevent us from dying of the disease that this evil man has infected us with.”
Scientology affects us all.
Fuck..I look at this pic and think George Carlin was right…”the planet is doin’ just fine..the people…the people are fucked..difference..difference…
Prince Charles had never truly appreciated the miracle of life until he completed his amusement park tour of conception in India. Seeing all the poor pink sperm trapped in confinement like that left him with a new resolve–never to sheathe his cock in latex ever again.
“Hello, tech support?”
“Poison didn’t work, fire didn’t work, I think she might’ve been shot at one point in the 60′s. The woman is indestructible. And so I leave it to you, the best biochemists in the world, to end my misery and save the empire. Build me the virus that will end the immortal queen.”
Pray with me now, “Please God, let my mother die already so I at least get to sit on the throne -once.- Amen.”
Those Oompa Loompas are a lot pinker than I recall them being.
“Pleese meester. Don’t come any closer! Theese not the Puna you lookengs for!”
So many to choose from. However did he decide who to let fist his reptilian asshole first?
“Would it be wrong…to take two?”
“Uh.. did anyone tell him he’s on the wrong side of the glass?”
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