Secrets and Ass Burn

Hi kiddies, it's your perpetually hammered Dutchess here.

I have figured out that these big floating cities have a dark side.  A side they don't mention in those glossy brochures and pretty little ads.  But, because I have your best interest at heart, Internet, and wouldn't want you to jump on the next cruise without all the information, I will tell you all about it.   

You see, what these assholes didn't mention, was that you have to walk eleventy fucking miles every time you want to do anything around this damn boat.  It's fucking exhausting! 

And?  I love my stilettos and can do amazing things in them.  However, between walking 50,000 step a day and trying to keep from tumbling off of them while the boat rocks with the motion of the ocean, my feet are starting to resemble bloody stumps.

So today,  The Queen and I decided we needed to find something to do that didn't require much walking, but was still entertaining.  We settled on going to the top sundeck for drinks and a dip in the pool. 

After an undisclosed number of special brownies and Salty Dogs, my drunk ass sibling loving Sister looks at me and says, "Hey Dutch, I double dog dare your ass to go down the high slide!"

Well, fuck me.  If there is one thing I can't turn down it's special brownie's, a cold Corona, and a double dog dare.

Looking at this monster, I knew I needed a couple extra eight shots of liquid courage.

I hiked my ass up to the damn top, (see? more goddamn waking!) grabbed a rubber floaty thing, and got in line.  While waiting my turn, I saw this sign, showing how to use the slide.

Well, lookie there, a position I am familiar with.  I'm so going to rock this slide!  And with that, I took a running jump onto my floaty thing...which, perhaps, may not have been the best move.  As soon as my ass hit that goddamn floaty thing, it shot out from under me with such speed and force, that took down the lifeguard and her assistant.

I was going to say sorry, but it was too late for me.  I was hurling down this monster slide with nothing protecting my royal ass....literally!  This motherfucking slide was so fast, I thought for sure it would spit me out on the other side of the goddamn ship!

It was just about then, that I started to feel a slight tingle in my ass...and not the good kind.  Holy mother of the tequila worm, I think I smell burning flesh!  Then it hit me...

THIS GODDAMN SLIDE WAS GIVING ME A MAJOR ASS BURN IN VERY SENSITIVE PLACES....AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

By the time I finally made it to the bottom, I had barely escaped with my bathing suit
life

Motherfucker!  Today was the wrong day to wear a thong.

Maybe it's time to stick to shuffleboard.

A Christmas Scavenger Hunt...Royal Style

I'm drunk, my sweet laptop caught a goddamn bad, bad, ju-ju virus, and no one told me the Royal Scavenger Hunt required me to traipse my big drunk ass around this giant floating fucking city searching for items on a list.

I couldn't find my goddamn room last night.  How in the hell am I going to find shit on a list?

The crap I do for this fucking family (sigh)....here we go

First on the stupid list, Christmas Lights.  After this picture was taken, the crazy ass hookers fell into the hot tub, and it did NOT end well.  On the bright side, any John with a poodle hair fetish needn't look any further.

Next up, a Christmas Tree...My drunken sister thought it said a Christmas KNEE.  I keep telling her she needs to wear her damn reading glasses....

Then we were to find something red...That was a no brainer...my prized possession.

Then something green....another no brainer...another prized possession.  After taking this pic, a little smoke break was in order.

However, after that break, things started to get weird.

A mini Santa was the next thing to find.  Ho Ho HO WHAT THE HELL? A Santa with his dick in a box!  (if you don't get that joke, search You Tube for SNL Dick in a Box, assholes.)

Find a silly hat was next up.  BTW, I'm pretty sure this is the new Captain of the ship, so if we get lost in the Bermuda triangle, you'll know why....The Captain was a dickhead

Onto the next item, it said I had to find a motherfucking Pirate...I called a few hookers to help...

I SAID A motherfucking pirate, skanks!!  I did NOT say PIRATE FUCKERS!

The next item was to fins a real, live, Santa.  I swear to you, I must be a fucking FREAK magnet.  This is the Santa I found, All I can say is, I'm glad we left orge child and all of the other crotch parasites back home.

After finding this?  I had had, enough.  I set that motherfucking list on fire, fired up a scooby, and headed to the nearest deck with a bar.

I'm sure glad that tomorrow, we will be docking at an island for the day.  I've got to pick up some fresh brownies and more eye wash.  That Santa picture is burned into my damn retina.

Stay tuned for more of the Royal's High Sea's Adventure, assholes.

Hiya Assholes! Well, the Christmas Cruise of 2011 is underway. First, let me just say this, we are not on a ship, it is a motherfucking floating city!

Hookers are everywhere, and having a grand old time. Some are enjoying the sun...

Some are karaoke-ing all night

Some are winning "Best Cruise Coconuts" contests

And some of those ho's are even learning new skills!

One poor hooker decided to play Titanic

Unfortunately, the bitch was so drunk, she fell overboard.
As for me, I couldn't find my goddamn room, so last night I passed out slept on one of the outside decks.

Oh fuck you, don't act like it's never happened to you!
Tonight is the Ship Scavenger Hunt, and there is no telling what we'll find! Stay tuned, assholes!

PS. Even though I love all of our hookers, I personally don't give a rat's ass who stays or who goes. HOWEVER, if you try and take the gin, the brownies, or my stilettos, I'll cut your ass.

The Royal Family Hits The High Seas

At the Hooker Convention last week, Queenie and I overheard someone talking about a cruise they had just been on. We heard there were many, many restaurants, themed entertainment nights, dozens of pools, fun activities and too many bars to count.

Well fuck, that sounded like heaven on earth, and honestly? That's as close as any of us bitches will ever get to heaven. Then we heard this...

IT'S ALL INCLUDED IN THE PRICE OF YOUR TICKET!

When The Queen heard that, she peed her pants, let out a slurred, "WOOHOO" and crab walked to the computer to buy our tickets.

That's right assholes, The Royals have commandeered a cruise ship. We set sail, heading to the warm, blue, Caribbean water to island hop and relax tomorrow.

Well, we hit the high seas tomorrow, providing someone is sober enough to make sure we get to the ship on time.

I was gone so long, this place is a sty! I'm hoping that someone will update my Royal Family links, change fonts, pretty up and clean this blog while I'm stoned outta my mind sleeping tonight. (HINT HINT)

Stay tuned, fuckers, you do NOT want to miss the royal christmas Cruise of 2011!

The Big Easy

The next stop on the...

had to be
New Orleans, of course!

Mardi Gras is full of drunken debauchery, mayhem, voodoo and King Cakes. Ya know, just like any other day with the Royal family, only with spicy Cajun food. I swear that when the buses rolled into The Big Easy, I heard the devil say "Oh fucking shit!".

We hopped the first float that came by


The Princesses, always trying to "out do" each other, started a bead collecting competition.


After seeing this sign...


The rest of us jumped off the float at Bourbon Street.


After a night of bar hopping on Bourbon Street,


things started getting out of control.


Queenie heard they had King Cakes at Mardi Gras and had to have one. I told her not to trust this lady


The bitched laced the Queen's King Cake with something powerful. I found her behind the bakery like this an hour later...


Somehow we got separated from the Royal Vet, Royal Bartender and my Bodyguard. By the time we found them, the Vet had a "kick-ass" idea on how to get more beads than the Princesses...


As the Queen and I made our drunken way back to the bus, the Queen started singing a familiar song. I was so goddamn drunk couldn't put my finger on what song it was. She was still singing as we boarded the bus. Apparently, the bus driver thought she was giving him directions. Some of the hookers may or may not have wet themselves when we pulled up here...


Fucking christ on a cupcake, I hope Fat Tuesday comes soon. We are wearing out our welcome in Voodoo City.

On an informative note:
I bought Voodoo Dolls that represent people that piss me the fuck off.

If you are one of those people, don't be surprised if your hair randomly catches fire or mysterious cigarette burns pop up in random places.

AND? I have a PUBIC (no NOT public)SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT::: Napkins used after eating spicy Cajun food and then shoved in you pocket should NEVER be used as toilet paper no matter how much you've had to drink. Just sayin'

WARNING: The Royal Family Is At It Again

Lock up your husbands
Lock up your sons
Lock up your whiskey cabinets
Girls lock up your guns
Lock up the beauty shop
No telling if they’ve heard the news
Call the boys downtown at Neiman Marcus
Tell ’em lock up them high-heeled shoes

When the Royals take a road trip
There ain’t no slap dab a-tellin’ what they’re gonna do
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You heard right, you lucky bastards. The Royal Family is about to embark on another adventure...

The Royal Spring Break Road Trip

Stay tuned for more details. The bus leaves at the end of the week!

Tacos, Bling, and Bunnies

Most of you know my love/hate relationship with Burger King.

TYet, time and time again I go back because they have frozen Cokes and kick ass tacos...mmmmm..I would trade my first born for an endless supply of those fucking tacos.

So, there is this guy who works the drive thru. He's, but really fucking weird. He's nerdy, wears glasses and uses the same corny jokes every single time I go through the damn drive-thu. They just never get old to him.

Today, the conversation went like this...

"Hey, there, pretty lady! I betcha get tired of hearing that, huh?"

Now, I don't answer. I just sit there, smile and wait. I have to because he holds my money hostage until he's gone through his entire goddamn routine. If I try to talk, it only delays my sweet, sweet reunion with the tacos.

"Nah! You don't get tired of it! HAHAHA!"

Pause. Smile. Wait.

"How about this weather? I hear we are suppose to have freezing rain. Will that DAMPEN your spirits? Will it? Dampen? Get it? Dampen?"

I bite my fucking tongue and wait.

"I tried to be a stand-up comedian, but I kept sitting down! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

He is practically doubled over with laughter. At least he's nice. However, I'm pretty sure that he goes home at night and boils tiny bunnies.

"Didn't you come through here this morning?"

What? Wait a damn minute! This is new. This isn't part of his routine. This requires participation and I am afraid.

"Umm, no. I try to limit myself to one drive thru a week."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I could have sworn you came through. What's your name, again?"

I never told him my name. I'm not crazy. I like my spleen right where it is, thank you very much.

"Sue."

"Sue, Sue. Okay. What's my name?"

At this point, he places his hand over his pants as though his name tag is pinned to his dick and he's trying to hide it. He waggles his eyebrows at me. I am fucking stupefied.

Then again, it's not out of the realm of possibilities that his name tag is pinned to his wiener.

I have been in the drive thru for what feels like an fucking hour. It has been, in reality, about 3 minutes.

"I have no idea. I just want my change, my frozen Coke and my damn tacos."

He waggles his brows again.

His hand has not moved.

"You have to guess my name, first!"

"I don't know, fuck. Ben. Joe. James. Larry. Hannibal. Chester."

With flourish, he throws his hand in the air and VOILA! There's a belt buckle the size of my fucking head with the name Eric on it.

ERIC. With motherfucking rhinestones. Bling.

Holy fucking shit.

It's A Wrap

Yes, it's sad but true. The...

comes to an end tonight. Oh quit sniveling, goddamnit. We well be back with the usual Royal shenanigans as soon as everyone is unpacked, showered, and had some time to regroup.

We had one hell of a good time. If for some reason, though I can't think of any, you missed a part in the Royal Road Trip, head over to The Queen's Castle . On her left side bar is a list of our stories from the road. She put it in a neat little package, all in order and shit, for you asshats to enjoy. I know, right??? Who knew the Queen was such a damn techi!

Truth is, we finally drank the bus dry and she had a sober moment. That scared all of us and we turned the bus around, and headed for home. FAST!

Today is Dame Penis Platter's birthday. Hop over and give her some love, and Southern Comfort.

And finally? Yes, Willie Nelson was just arrested for possession of pot on Friday. Let's just say, I fucking TOLD him to avoid Texas. All my exes live there, and nothing good ever comes of that.

You Knew We'd End Up Here

The next obvious stop in the...

is.....



This was all the Queen's doing. You see, the Queen has a thing for cowboys and things that are shiny. As we were passing through Vegas on our way to California, our drunken leader saw this...


The Queen let out a "YEEHAW!!", and before we could grab her, she was out of the bus and shimmying her way up the pole to the lighted Cowboy of her dreams.

At that point, we all knew we'd be here a while. However, this proved to be a lucrative stop because there is no better place for a rolling bus full of hookers, than fabulous Las Vegas.

While the ladies were setting up the Rolling Pleasure Palace, I decided to try my hand at some slots. That's when it happened.

I got the "fever" playing the "Wheel of Fortune" dollar slots. I think they pump inaudible hypnotic suggestions over the casino floor that say "feed me bitch, feed me, feed me over and over again. That way you either go to the goddamn buffet or throw another hundred-dollar bill into a dollar slot machine.

I couldn't seem to leave this one Wheel of Fortune machine. It had some kind of hold on me. I just kept playing, waiting to hear "WHEEL....OF....FORTUNE!", and spin for the big money win.

I found myself talking out loud using gambling terms. I'd hit that "max bet" button and yell, "Baby needs new shoes." "Momma needs to pay the rent." and "Forum Shops! I will make you my bitch!"

No matter how much cigar smoke wafted over me from the octogenarian who was plugged in to the slot machine on my right, I wasn't leaving my goddamn machine. (I was due for a win, I could feel it.)

She started getting a little pissed with me when I kept yelling, "Grandma needs the goddamn patch!"

I think she gave me the finger. It was a little bent and crooked, but it definitely resembled the finger.

It was at this moment that a couple stumbled up to the machine on my left. They looked like poster children for Wal-Mart.

He had a tee shirt with a black motorcycle vest over it, blue jeans, long hair, a moustache and a goatee. She had the hair, moustache and goatee and jeans but no tee shirt, just the black vest.

It's 8:30 in the morning and they're both drunk. Viva Las Vegas, baby!

He was slurring over and over again that he needed to "FUCKING EAT!!!!" and wandered off. She somehow managed to stick a twenty into the slot machine.

Of course her machine let out a "WHEEL....OF....FORTUNE!!!" on her very first fucking pull. She leans back to look up at the wheel spinning around and just as the wheel stops on one hundred dollars, she passes out with her head tilted back and her mouth wide open.

With a cigarette hanging from her mouth.

It was just hanging there. Kind of stuck on her goddamn lip.

I was tempted to use her mouth as an ashtray but I'm sure the elderly bitchy cigar queen on my right would rat me out.

It was at this moment that I noticed the tattoo on the passed out woman's left tit. I wasn't intentionally looking at her left boob, but it was sticking out of that black vest taking a look around for fuck sake.

On her left tit was a tattoo of Captain America.

Which is odd....

Flipping the bird.

Also odd....

Pointed at me.

Um.... Not so odd.

I've now been flipped off by the tit of passed out trailer trash on my left and "old mother cigar breath" on my right.

Yes, bring the kids; Las Vegas is fun for the whole fucking family.

And then "it" happened.

I hit the.....

"WHEEL OF FORTUNE!!!"

THAT WHEEL STARTED SPINNING!!!

ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS BABY!!!!!!

WOOOOOHOOOOO!!!!

I TOLD YOU I WAS DUE!!!!

I cash out the machine and grab my ticket.

"Smoke this grandma!!! Hey bitch, tuck that in, you'll poke someone's eye out with that thing."

I'm a motherfucking winner.

Las Vegas survived a visit from the Royals, but it may never be the same. Maybe the others will yell you their Vegas story, but sometimes, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas....

Tornadoes, A Bus and A Birthday

First of all, I have something to clarify. YES, ASSCLOWNS, I KNOW DUTCHESS IS REALLY SPELLED DUCHESS! I'm a drunk stoner, not stupid! Lot's of names sound the same and are spelled different.
Wendy - Wendi
Georgia - Jorja
Ginger - Jinjer
You get the point.
I like spelling Dutchess. It's slightly off center, unique, odd, and wrong. Sounds like it fits me to a tee...or tea. And? IT'S MY FUCKING BLOG AND I CAN DO WHAT I WANT. KAPISH?

Good. Now, on with tonight's installment of "Tales from the Road".



This heavy duty drunken drug fest aboard the Insane Hooker Bus would be enough to send Whitney, I'm a fucking crack ho and I like it, Houston running to rehab.

Add a huge family birthday bash for the Spawn of Satan, a 2 year old no nap asshole stuck to me like flies on shit, tornado sirens, (which BTW, Mother nature, it is No-fucking-vember you bitch. Enough already!) hail plopping down on my new fucking mustang, an ice sculpting contest and a motherfucking cat fight. Know what you get?



After a few drinks, Xanax, and a fat doobie, all was right with the world and we were back on the road.

Then, we stumbled upon this sign

Of course we took the damn exit. And hoo boy! The girls got excited when we saw this next


As we crept around the bend, we found it....the Motherland.

We piled off of the bus and went to the nearest bar where we engaged in karaoke, dancing on tables, and a cherry stem knotting contest. I was running out of steam, and headed back to the bus for some much needed alone time. That's when I noticed something strange going on.





The hell? The motherfucking bus was being invaded!

*kcshhhhhhk*Houston, we have a Pussy problem.*kcshhhhhhk*

I sprinted ....ok, assholes, I walked, back to the goddamn bar to inform the Queen about the Pussy invasion. The drunk bitch had obviously been slipped a ruffie. All I could get out of her was..."Pussies? The more the merrier! Let them on the bus~"

Let's just say that the pussies are out of control and, the Royal vet says they have eaten a good portion of our best stash.


Personally? I think the Pussy Patrol is up to something more sinister than eating out premium pot. I've seen some pretty suspicious and disturbing things the past couple days...

Now, I may or may not be a touch paranoid from all of the Mary Jane we've consumed on this road trip. However, I'm beginning to I think the little pussies are either planning a coupe, or they are some kind of invasion of the Body snatcher-ET phone home motherfuckers, and they are training to take over the Royal family.

What say you, Internet?