Dear Kate Middleton,
Quit hornin' in on my action!
Have I knocked on your door, demanding wear-time on that sapphire ring? NO!
Have I asked to kissy-face with your Prince? NO!
Then quit thinking you can be a Coal Miner's Granddaughter. You're actually a coal miner's great-granddaughter. How do I know this? Because I'm a nosy little shit and I like to know when people are Googling my boring-ass life. And lately? When people Google "Coal Miner's Granddaughter"? They come up with newspaper articles about you and your grandma. Your grandma who was a coal miner's daughter.
I mean, HELLO?, I'm not trying to bust in on your princess-to-be-someday-queen action. You don't see me walking around, posing with guys named William Wales, changing my name to Kate, professing a love of big blue rings and afternoon tea, so don't even go there. Do you think you can handle the awesomeness of being me? No, you can't. Case in point:
(Yes, Exposay.com, this is a photo of yours, pasted onto mine. Apologies.)
I am Coal Miner's Granddaughter. Not you. Got it?
Besides. You know if William even gets glimpse of this, he'll be all "Kate, who?":
(Sorry, Alastair Grant - WPA Pool/Getty, for making your awesome picture a nightmare.)
Now that we've got that cleared up... where's my damned invite?!?
Tell Harry to give me a call, 'kay?