Hands-Down, The Greatest Story Ever

Ed. note: Yesterday I alluded to the Greatest Story Ever, which was supplemented with a hilarious tale courtesy of my cousin. But today is the day for the main event. It comes to us from my friend Brooks, who has contributed this lil' ol' blog before. She has UNFORTUNATELY stopped her own blog (grr), so I of course insisted she write up this Amazing Tale and let me publish it. Because I am an opportunist the Internet NEEDS to hear it. Without further ado, I leave you with my new biggest source of jealousy: 

There are many benefits to moving out of your parents house. There is a renewed sense of pride that you can fend for yourself, there is that freshman-year-of-college adrenaline rush of freedom and independence, and in my case, there is access to what will eventually become the

best story you will ever tell.

I mean, could they be any more adorable?

I recently moved out of my parents gorgeous Hollywood home into a tiny (but awesome!) apartment in Playa Del Rey. I am two blocks from the beach, right next to work, and biking distance from my friends. But Brooks, how do you afford this paradise you speak of?? FINE. I live next door to the airport.

Regardless, last Friday (or THE Friday as I now remember it), I went home around 4PM to let my dog Miles. Miles is amazing. He is a 1 year old chocolate dachshund who is as kind as he is beautiful and you should probably friend him on Facebook. He's the closest thing I have to a boyfriend and that is fine. by. me.

Anyway, I hurry to my house in the late afternoon, grab my precious pooch, and take him out to do some quick business so I can get back to work. Now, my apartment is situated on a pretty busy street, and where Miles "gets to it" is on a grassy knoll right off the curb. This normally makes me pretty neurotic/nervous, but today it was PERFECT.

Clearly Kate loves dogs.
Clearly Brooks and I love Kate AND dogs.
Clearly we should all be best friends.

So I'm outside, impatiently waiting for Miles to whip it out, when I notice a bunch of really aggressive policemen pulling people aside and stopping traffic. "WTF," I think to myself, "Why is LAPD so terrible". Growing increasingly curious, I asked my old lady neighbor to explain the situation. "Didn't you see the news?" (no...) "The royals are coming in town today--William and Kate. They just landed at LAX. They are coming right now."

UM SCREW WORK I AM WAITING HERE AS LONG AS IT TAKES. Before I know it, what I now recognize as the royal brigade starts inching down my street. After the initial police cars, I begin to see Range Rover after Range Rover roll past me. Oh we're in the big leagues now. And I am staked out--eyes glowing like a gd hawk, waiting for my Favorite Couple Ever to show up. Then (omg), in the distance (omg), in a gleaming gold Range Rover (omg), I see Her. Omg!!!

Before I can even realize what's happening, I make eye contact with Her and start smiling and waving like a maniac. She is so polite (typical Kate!!!) and smiles right back and waves at me too--a little more gentile. But holy mother of god I AM HAVING A MOMENT WITH KATE MIDDLETON. I'm seeing our future best friendship flashing before my eyes; playdates at the palace, shopping trips with Pippa, my hot make out with Harry. But all of the sudden, I notice that her expression changes. I realize that she is laughing. And more than that, she is pointing down. Right by my feet...

I look down to realize a) I need to shave b) oh yeah, Miles is here too and c) OH MY GOD MILES DAVIS IS IN THE MIDDLE OF DROPPING A DEUCE and oh yeah, d) HE JUST DID THIS IN FRONT OF THE FUTURE QUEEN OF ENGLAND!!! Well, clearly I flipped the eff out and screamed at Miles, scaring whatever shit was left out of him. But it was too late, for Kate and Will were far in the distance, headed to what I would later learn was the Beverly Hilton. I just stood there, totally helpless, as the rest of the brigade of British secret service men pointed and laughed at me/Miles/America/my kind of ugly apartment building. And then I started laughing so hard I thought I was going to pee myself, until I looked at Miles and thought to myself "Touche".

If only Miles was wearing this
little number...if only...

Sooooo yeahhhhh! WELCOME TO AMERICA KATE!!!!!! Sorry about my dog...he's German and doesn't know better?! I'd like to think that it was some socio-political statement that Miles was making that day--that he was trying to show Kate Middleton what he thought of monarchy, Parliament and American ideals. I'd like to think that's what my 13 pound puppy that is the animal kingdom's equivalent to a midget was doing. But you know what I KNOW he was doing? He was doing his f*cking business in the grass BECAUSE I POTTY

TRAINED HIM LIKE A BOSS.

Sorry I'm not sorry, Kate. Text me!

Needless to say, that is the greatest story ever, right? I mean, there are just no words. Other than "When will my day come when I a) have a dog, b) have a dog that helps me bond with the Number One Girl Crush in the World?" 


Thanks, Brooks!! I'm really rooting for you and Harry!