Why I know I’m a Princess.

Wilkomen to Part Zwei of LHB Goes to Germany – which, in the spirit of the blog, I’ve decided to rename LHB DOES Germany.

Princess Marie thinking fondly of her elder cousin, the smokin' hot Fraulein Elisabeth.

Remember the smokin’ yet frustratingly celibate princess and later nun that we told you about in Part Ein?  Will you also recall the list of suitors/admirers that I wizzed through in which I briefly mentioned a young princess named Marie who probably (maybe not whatever let’s go with it), grew up having lesbian dreams/fantasies about Elisabeth because she believed her to be the “definition of beauty?”  Well let’s just say that when that little Princess grew up to be a normal-sized Princess, she didn’t exactly follow the whole “only have sex with the guy you’re in love with” model that her girl-on-girl dream woman embodied.  In fact, she sort of went in the opposite direction.

Shall I elaborate and continue to use sub-beginner level German interMITTEnly?  If you insist.

Okay, get ready for a little family history – and shit’s complicated so put your listening face on, and pay attention.  Princess Marie of Edinburgh was the daughter of Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh who was the second son of my fav royal couple evaaa, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert.   Our princess’s mommy was the Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna of Russia, the daughter of the Emperor of Russia.  She was apparently kind of a snooty patooty and no one really liked her and she didn’t like them back.

Now, I know that this isn't entirely relevant, but this is the family that we're talking about, so let me gush for a second ok? See how Albert is kind of reaching for her hand? Doesn't it make your heart fuzzy? If not, there's something wrong with you. Seek help.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.  “LHB, what’s so German about an English princess with a Russian mother?”  My answer, “Fucking everything.”  Yeah.  EVERYTHING is German about a half English/half Russian princess because the German royal family had spermies and eggs all over Europe at this time.  You couldn’t walk into a royal palace in 1900 without impregnating or getting pregnant by some German royal.  They knew how to spread their seed and they spread it good.  Most notably, Prince Albert, Victoria’s hubby, was of the Saxe-Coburg haus and so all of their offspring were also part of the German royal family.  So there.  Now you can suck it and keep reading.

The "happy" couple. (Am I over-using ironic quotations?)

When Marie started getting the bleeds and was all ready to say “I do,” she and her first cousin (grossgrossgross), later King George V of England, fell in love.  But their moms collectively thought the match was a no-go.  If you’re thinking, “maybe they were ahead of their time and thought that marriage between first cousins was a little nauseating, wow, good for them,” you’d be wrong.  Because really what was going on was Marie’s mom hated English royalty and George’s mom hated Maria’s mom due to a little kerfuffle over their royal titles.  Sister-in-laws!  Adorbs.

In the end, Marie ended up marrying Prince Ferdinand of Romania.  In the spirit of MRG’s recent conquest over the GRE, let’s do some analogies in order to convey the nature of their relationship.  Marie was to Ferdinand what the Big Bang was to dinosaurs.  No, that’s not quite right.  Marie was to Ferdinand what acid rain is to clean drinking water.  No, this all makes Marie seem like the aggressor when really she was just a deviant.  Marie was to Ferdinand what the Spanish Flu was to 1918?  No…that’s not really it either.  What I’m trying to get at is, she fucked shit up.  Clearly, I would do terribly on the verbal because all of those things are about 0% analogous, but hey, I’m not MRG so cut me some slack, OK?

I'm not NOT totally attracted to Barbu. What a hipster motherfucker he was.

Marie and Ferdinand had 5 children “together.”  Three of them are “definitely” his.  And two of them were born after she began a long-term love affair with a man named Barbu Stirbey (because who wouldn’t give a blowie to someone with a name like that?!)  Marie’s youngest son shares the same dark, smoldering eyes as Barbie, I mean, Barbu, so pretty much everyone believes that he was the baby-daddy. And most people believe that her second-youngest child, her daughter Ileana, also shared a little DNA with Barbu.  SO…no big deal, 2 kids, non-royal daddy, 1 conclusion: Marie was a hard core adulteress – like, not the pussy kind.  She was for real.  Marie was to adultery what Evil Kenevil was to motorcycle stunts.  (That one kind of works.)

And girlfriend new it.  So a few years later, while still the Crown Princess of Romania (not yet Queen), she started another affair with a guy named Lt. Zizi Cantacunezendfkljsflksjsfslfkjds (spelled just like that).  She was the best adulterer in the land and she loathed her husband, so she thought, “No harm, no foul, right?”  Wrong.

Would have been just like this kind of.

The steamy affair was quickly discovered by her father-in-law (the KING) and then soon enough everyone was talking about it.  It was like when Hugh Grant was caught cheating on whatsherface with that prostitute/stripper.  It was all over the ‘bloids and anybody who was anybody was talking about it.

And then, just when everyone thought it couldn’t get any scandalouser, bitch found out she was PREGNANT.  WHAT?!?!  Uuuhh huh!  You can’t make this shit up, people.  So she flees to Coburg to live with her mom throughout the rest of the pregnancy and then the little love-child disappears from history fo’ eva’.  The baby was either stillborn or was immediately sent to an orphanage.

My queen grandmother teaching me a lesson.

This detail I find interesting.  Ever since I read the entire Princess Diaries series as a tween (Okay fine, also in high school and maybe a little in college, whatever, shut up), I obviously have a teeny tiny fantasy that one day someone will tell me that I am a princess and Julie Andrews is my long-lost grandmother and Hector Elizondo will be my driver/future step-grandfather.  Obviously.  And after reading this about Princess Marie of Romania’s mysterious, long-lost love-child, it finally makes sense.  I’m pretty positive about this, so tell all your friends: I am the great-great-granddaughter of the Queen of Romania, Maria Alexandra Victoria, making ME, LHB, a real-life Princess. BOOM.  You heard it here first.

Anne Hathaway, Auf Wiedersehen.  You are out; you can leave the runway.

Princess LHB


2 Comments on “Why I know I’m a Princess.”

  1. barbu stirbey has made condensation in my deutsch oven!!!!


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