Oh, Harry.

Umm, hello, people, why dream of William when there’s Harry…

Thursday, on my way from NY to LA, I scored the motherload of all motherloads. I was standing at the front of the coach cabin, smiling and saying my goodbye’s, when a couple of very nice passengers coming back from market so graciously dumped their trashy magazines on me. (Good passengers.) Buh-bye, I mechanically repeated, as I flipped through the latest issues of Star, Us, Ok, and the like, when this cool looking guy with Buddy Holly glasses said “here’s another,” and slid me a copy of Radar. Now I’ve never heard of this magazine, but I’ve got to tell you, it’s pretty good. So good, the husband stole it and I had to steal it back. Anyway, I couldn’t resist posting the cover photo. I’ll admit, I’ve always had a secret crush on the youngest prince, and since I don’t have time to write, I thought you, too, could enjoy a little Harry. I know I did.

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