Can’t Cook Won’t Cook – Meghan Markle

Pretzels bought from Walmart. Take them out of the cheap packaging, put them in a fancy plastic bag to give to your paid off “friends” who you just met on set 5-minutes ago. Yes folks, it’s another offering from the vapid Meghan Markle.

A fucking fruit salad rainbow, cut some fruit and place it onto a fucking platter in someone else’s elaborate, expensive kitchen. Sprinkle a few flower petals on your amazing fruity creation. Et voila, Netflix’s $100 million down the shithole.

Nobody gives a flying fart about this shit, this is so awful it would be preferable to have root canal for four hours straight.

Fake, vacuous syrupy plastic shite devoid of any substance for an overprivileged grifter with a serious chip on her fucking shoulder. In fact, the chip is so big soon she’s going to need a wheelbarrow for it.

Who wants to watch a bunch of greasy sycophantic Californian “Oh my gawd” bootlicking paid puppets fawning over some z-list celebrity just because they got compensated with shitloads of wonger? Do these people have any fucking dignity? It seems Meghan Markle doesn’t have any dignity herself.

And that awful ghey music they play in the background is truly sickening, who the fuck chose that crap? That’s the shitty music you hear on Mark Zuckerberg Meta presentations with the ukuleles and whistling. It’s better to ram some sharpened pencils into your ears.

Watch it for a laugh, give it your full support because Netflix will lose more subscribers for pushing this dire trash. They’re having a laugh at the expense of paying subscribers by presenting them with such gauche saccharine excrement. This show is actually sad, it’s disgraceful in its flaunting of wealth 99% of people will never see or experience in their lives. It’s a disgusting display, showing off something like this Meghan Markle malarkey when there are millions of people really struggling to live their lives under seriously hard economic circumstances. This just makes people detest her with even more vehemence and vitriol.

What this atrocious pampered narcissist needs to do is bring in a kid from the ghetto into that kitchen and feed them some beans or some ham hock, and forget about sprinkling the motherfucking flowers over the food or presenting the poor kid with flowers inside ice cubes.

Wow! I never knew that you can arrange fruit on a plate! $100 million for that? Nice work if you can get it. Oh, and where’s dumbo? Go back home and take some of that jam and rub it over your smug, self-absorbed face whilst crying like a baby. You failed. Big time…or, actually, has Meghan Markle really had the last laugh — at your expense, of course?