Why the F* Does Meghan Markle Need a Chief of Staff? Let’s Get Real.**
Oh, here we go again. Another day, another headline about Saint Meghan of Montecito cosplaying as a world leader. This time? She’s hired Bill Gates’ former chief of staff. Let that sink in. Bill Gates’ woman . The same woman who quit the Royal Family because she couldn’t handle the “oppression” of curtseying to a 96-year-old queen now needs a chief of staff? Are you kidding me?
Let’s break this down like men with purpose do.
A chief of staff isn’t some Instagram influencer assistant you hire to fetch kale smoothies and schedule your podcast rants about “systemic racism” while you live in a $14 million mansion. No. A chief of staff is for actual leaders. Presidents. CEOs. Generals. People who run nations, empires, corporations—not Netflix deals and a failing Spotify podcast about how hard it is to be rich and victimized.
But Meghan? What’s her “staff” even doing? Coordinating her next whine-fest interview? Drafting tweets about her latest “brave” decision to wear beige? Organizing her calendar of luxury vacations disguised as “humanitarian work”? Give me a break.
And of course she poached Bill Gates’ woman. Classic Meghan. She’s got the audacity of a street hustler who thinks wearing a Rolex makes him a billionaire. “Oh, look at me! I’m important because I hired someone who used to work for someone actually important!” It’s like buying a used Ferrari and pretending you’re Elon Musk. Newsflash, princess: Proximity to power doesn’t make you powerful.
What’s next? Hiring Obama’s speechwriter to pen her Substack manifestos about “finding her truth”? Recruiting NATO’s strategist to plan her next photo op with a rescue chicken? The delusion is Olympic-level.
Let’s talk about the downgrade here.
Imagine being Bill Gates’ chief of staff. Your days are spent shaping global health policy, managing billion-dollar initiatives, rubbing shoulders with world leaders. Then Meghan Markle slides into your DMs like, “Hey Queen, wanna help me complain about the British press on confessions of a female founder?” What a fall from grace. From curing diseases to… scheduling Zoom calls with Oprah. The woman must’ve lost a bet.
And consultants? Oh, they’ve got consultants too.
Because nothing screams “self-made visionary” like needing an army of overpaid yes-men to validate your every whim. Consultants are for businesses scaling empires, not for C-list Slaylebrities trying to rebrand their victimhood into relevance. But sure, Meghan—keep burning through cash to hear people tell you what you want to hear. That’s totally what strong leaders do.
Here’s the cold truth:
Harry and Meghan aren’t leaders. They’re content. They’re drama. They’re a reality TV show with better PR. And the minute the world stops caring about their perpetual pity party, they’ll vanish faster than their Spotify deal. A chief of staff won’t save them. Neither will consultants, PR teams, or another tearful interview.
Real power doesn’t need to announce itself. It doesn’t need to rent credibility. It’s built on action, not theatrics. So until Meghan actually does something besides monetize her grievances, spare us the theatrics.
Bottom line:
If you need a chief of staff to manage your “brand” of mediocrity, you’re not a leader. You’re a clown. And the circus left town a long time ago.
Stay frosty.
– CHIEF UNMASKER OF SLAYLEBRITIES
Instagram:@meghan
Followers: 2,900,000
A chief of staff isn’t some Instagram influencer assistant you hire to fetch kale smoothies and schedule your podcast rants about “systemic racism” while you live in a $14 million mansion. No. A chief of staff is for actual leaders. Presidents. CEOs. Generals. People who run nations, empires, corporations—not Netflix deals and a failing Spotify podcast about how hard it is to be rich and victimized.
But Meghan? What’s her “staff” even doing? Coordinating her next whine-fest interview? Drafting tweets about her latest “brave” decision to wear beige? Organizing her calendar of luxury vacations disguised as “humanitarian work”? Give me a break.
And of course she poached Bill Gates’ woman. Classic Meghan. She’s got the audacity of a street hustler who thinks wearing a Rolex makes him a billionaire. “Oh, look at me! I’m important because I hired someone who used to work for someone actually important!”
It’s like buying a used Ferrari and pretending you’re Elon Musk. Newsflash, princess: Proximity to power doesn’t make you powerful.
Meet President Harkle What’s next? Hiring Obama’s speechwriter to pen her Substack manifestos about “finding her truth”? Recruiting NATO’s strategist to plan her next photo op with a rescue chicken? The delusion is Olympic-level.
