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I guess it’s the whole butch-military thing that’s steaming my beans. Yeah, I love a man in uniform (who doesn’t? Seriously, who doesn’t?), but this guy is royalty; heir to the throne. (Well, not exactly heir… third in line, but he’s a ski or polo accident away from being direct in line. Certainly closer than any of us.)
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Yet, even in his dress uniform he now “out-hots” brother William.
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Maybe it’s the rebel aspect: blue-blood willing to get his hands dirty. Yeah, put him in field dress, cover him with dirt and put a few battles under his belt and I’m weak in the knees. Is that why I loved Andrew so much (back in the 80’s… Helicopter Pilot, Falkland War, hottie, third in line for the throne… again with the third).
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And now he’s coming home—thank you douche bag Matt Drudge for fucking up yet another person’s life—and we’ll get to regale in all his studliness.