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newsMar 27, 202615:43

The Ghislaine Maxwell Party at Sandringham

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Prince Andrew’s decision to host a party for Ghislaine Maxwell at Sandringham—where sex drugs like poppers were reportedly found—reads less like royal history and more like a bad dark comedy. The idea of a Queen’s residence being turned into something resembling a low-rent Sopranos episode is almost surreal. The whole scene feels like parody: the Duke of York, standing beneath portraits of British monarchs, presiding over a soirée that sounds like Downton Abbey crashing headfirst into Trainspotting. It’s especially grotesque given Epstein’s reputation for avoiding drugs himself—he didn’t need them, he used them on others. The thought of those same tools of control and exploitation making their way into a royal estate is equal parts absurd and revolting.

What makes it worse is the total lack of accountability. The Palace still tries to frame these scandals as “private matters,” as though international sex trafficking and narcotics at royal residences can be brushed under the Windsor rug. Every new revelation cements Andrew as a man incapable of understanding—or even pretending to care about—the damage he’s done to the Crown’s image. Once considered a symbol of British decorum, Sandringham now sits as a monument to how far the monarchy has fallen, its history tainted by the stench of scandal and the arrogance of a prince who believed himself untouchable. In the end, Prince Andrew didn’t just disgrace himself—he made royal scandal feel like a recurring sketch in a show that refuses to end.



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Sex drugs 'found at party' disgraced Andrew hosted for Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell in Sandringham, new Royal book claims | Daily Mail Online

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The Ghislaine Maxwell Party at Sandringham

Jeffrey Epstein: The Coverup Chronicles

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Jeffrey Epstein: The Coverup ChroniclesThe Ghislaine Maxwell Party at Sandringham. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.

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What's up everyone and welcome to another episode of the Epstein Chronicles. Folks, we have now reached the sex drugs and sandering ham chapter of the Andrew Chronicles. Because of course we have. Of all the places in the world where one might expect to stumble upon people doing poppers, the Queen's countryside retreat was not high on my list. Yet here we are, one royal mansion, one disgraced prince, one convicted trafficker, and a party scene that sounds like the result of a bad vice article headline generator. Nothing says royal dignity, quite like the chemical lace sore, hosted for Glein Maxwell by the duke denial himself. I mean poppers at sandering ham. We're talking about historical vandalism here. You have expect to see the ghosts of Edward VII and Victoria pacing the corridor's muttering. We ruled an empire for this. And look, I couldn't help but think of the sopranos episode where AJ goes to the concert in Manhattan, ends up at the after party and gets his eyebrow shaved off.

Same energy, except this time instead of Tony sopranos storming into the room yelling, what's this I hear about weird checks and poppush? Its prince Andrew fumbling with a bottle and pretending he has no idea what this stuff is. The whole image just writes itself. The wings or crest on the wall, a table of empty glasses, a few half inflated balloons, and a royal with no shame. It's like Downton Abbey meets train spotting only with worst dialogue and better wallpaper. And of course, let's not forget Jeffrey Epstein was famously anti-drug. He didn't use them himself, that much is true. But that didn't mean there weren't drugs at his gatherings. Epstein was a control freak, a manipulator, a man who understood that drugs could make others more malleable. He didn't need to take them, he just needed the people around him to. Because when someone's days frightened and chemically dulled, they don't fight back, they don't remember clearly, they don't resist. It was never about pleasure, it was always about control.

And now to hear that same kind of substance might have been floating around the royal residents, I mean it's not shocking, in the Epstein world sense, it's shocking in the Sandringham sense. Because we're not talking about some tacky Miami condo, this is where the royal family spends Christmas. It's where the queen gave her televised addresses. It's where the British Empire's ghosts are supposed to sleep. Not where Glant Maxwell hosts her little chemical circus. And picture it, the royal dining hall with its oak panels and royal portraits, filled with the sweet chemical sting of poppers while Andrew tries to act like it's just another Saturday night. I mean you can almost see the queen's ghost standing in the doorway, clutching her pearls, or maybe her corgi. Wondering how in the hell her house turned into a low-rank disco for degenerates, and look the sheer absurdity of it would be hilarious if it weren't so revolting. This is the same family that lectures the world about service and duty. Yet here we have the Duke of York apparently serving of cocktails, complicity, and a side of sex drugs.

It's beyond parity. You could put this scene in a satire and people would call it unrealistic. A party for an accused sex trafficker at a royal estate with drugs? Nah, that's too much. But this is real life. Or whatever twisted facsimile of it Prince Andrew's been living in, this man has the self-awareness of a traffic cone. At this point you have to wonder if Andrew is secretly competing with himself to see how far he can fall. Every time you think this man is hit bottom, he starts digging. From the I don't sweat defense. To this latest bombshell, he's turned his own disgrace into a performance art. And somewhere out there, Tony soprano shaken his head, cigar in hand, saying, at least my kid just got his eyebrows shaved off. This guy's out here disgracing and entire monarchy. And honestly, he's right. Tony might have been a mob boss, but at least he knew how to run a family. Because at least when AJ got caught up in weird section poppush, Tony yelled at him. He cared enough to throw a fit. Prince Andrew, he's the guy that threw the party.

And that's the difference between fiction and whatever this farces become. The mob had more class than the monarchy. Today's article is from the Daily Mail and the headline. Sex Drugs found that party disgraced Andrew, hosted for Jeffrey Epstein and Glenn Maxwell in Sanderingham, new royal book claims. This article was authored by Mark Nichol. Drugs to enhance sexual experiences were found that Sanderingham, after Andrew hosted a party for pedophile Jeffrey Epstein and Glenn Maxwell, according to a new book. Bathrooms at the Royal Property were littered with condoms, lubricants and drugs, called poppers, after the event which Andrew later dismissed as a straightforward shooting weekend. Sounds like a diddy party to me. And for those of you who aren't familiar with poppers, well, it's a drug that gets you a little bit more in the mood if you will, and a lot of people that are into the party scene use poppers to get the mood right.

The party throned the mark, Glenn Maxwell's 39th birthday, in 2000 featured disgraced Andrew's 2019 newsnight interview with Emily Maitless. I mean, this guy has been lying from the very beginning, and at this point it feels like just beating a dead horse, but the facts are the facts. And this guy was running around Buckingham Palace, around the monarchy, like he could do whatever you wanted. Even did he got a hotel room? I mean, did he knew that the baby oil party where it was coming broke out himself a hotel room? But no, here you have your people, the maids, the servants, the rest of the people that are supposed to take care of the property, come in and clean up condoms, and the remnants of whatever drugs were being used. That sounds to me like somebody who's not scared of consequences, because most people aren't going to do something like this in the royal residence. And what it also shows you, and it's pretty terrifying, is how they had an iron fist wrapped around information for a very, very long time in the royal family.

This has scandal written all over it, but instead of anybody talking about it, well, it got swept under the rug, because God forbid Prince Andrew is ever held accountable. And can you imagine the pain in suffering the royal family would have saved themselves if they would have just dealt with this right away and had on instead of waiting all these years? All of this could have been dealt with years ago. But the queen, I hate to say it, was complicit. Andrew's been tipped to move into Sandringham, where he has turfed out of luxurious royal lodge in Windsor. The discovery of sex drugs there is included in a new book by author Robert Jopson. Serialized by the Daily Mail, the Windsor Legacy claims these substances were found by royal staff, who were accustomed to cleaning up after Andrew. Well, look, if you have that kind of sexual desire, you're going to need some help along the way sometimes. So I'm not shocked to hear that there were these enhancing kind of drugs, who was Prince Andrew on them. I don't know, I have no idea who was using them, but I have no doubt they were there.

I'm sure that there was ecstasy there as well. Golan Maxwell, 63, the daughter of late newspaper, proprietor, Robert Maxwell, is serving a 20 year prison sentence in the US for sex trafficking. Golan and Epstein, who died at age 66, were regular guests at royal residences in the late 90s and early 2000s. Well, that shouldn't shock anybody. He was also a regular guest at Bill Clinton's White House. So why should it shock anybody that he had access here too? And speaking of that, does this sound like a lone wolf to you? A guy that has no contacts in the government, a guy that's not being protected. Show up at the White House, 17 times. Show up at the royal family's residences whenever he wanted basically had the Prince of England throwing parties for you. Yeah, just a lone wolf, nothing to see here, time to move on everybody. Andrew thought nothing of inviting the pair to private residences and the car crash BBC interview, the former Prince got to any suggestion that this was significant.

He arrogantly corrected Maitless when she asked whether he had invited Epstein and Maxwell to a party at Sandringham saying it was a shooting weekend, a straight forward shooting weekend. What does that even mean? So because you guys went out and shot a couple of animals. There was no fuckery going on. There was no scumbagery going on. Obviously that's a lie too. Everything this man says is a lie. So for the people out there that try and bring up Virginia's credibility when we're talking about Prince Andrew, please take all the seats in the back row because that's a debate you're not going to win because the facts are the facts. And there's nobody out here lying more than Prince Andrew's bitch ass. And Amika insurance, we know it's not just about where you're going, but who you go with. That's why we work even harder to protect what matters most. And as a mutual insurance company, we're built for our customers and prioritize your needs.

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As jobs and rights Andrew, socializing with Epstein and Maxwell did nothing to dim her majesty the queen's view of her second son. And this is the big problem. The queen was backing him up for all these years. There was no way that Andrew was taking a fall. The queen would have never allowed it. She remained fiercely loyal to Andrew as the Epstein saga unfolded and shielded him as palace insiders continued to push for his total exile. Once again, this could have all been avoided, but the queen wanted to protect Prince Andrew, wanted to protect Jeffrey Epstein by proxy, wanted to protect Elaine Maxwell, and basically told all of Epstein survivors that she didn't care about them. I mean not in so many words, but if you read between the lines. And I've said it once and I'll say it again. If I was accused of this shit and I went and tried to hide at my mom's house, fucking forget it. If I got there at eight by nine, she'd be dragging me down the street by my ear to the police station, but the queen she had other plans. Instead, she made everything go away and she let Andrew continue on as destructive path, never stepping in, never stopping him, never scolding him, never having any real ramifications.

The book reveals she confided her support to a trusted confidant saying, you have to remember, he is my son, yeah, the people he wronged, there were people's daughters. No empathy for them though, huh? Several elegant 19th century properties on Sandringham estate are being considered for Andrew. These include a former hunting lodge and the home of the estate's gardener. Yo, that's fucking funny. You're going to move him into the gardeners house. They should move the gardener into the big house and Andrew into the small one. Make Andrew be the servant for the gardener. Now that's a good idea. Imagine the gardener ringing his little bell and Prince Andrew comes prancing over in one of those goofy ass tuxedos he likes with that top hat. That's what the king should do. Make Andrew a servant to the other people who used to serve him. What better way to teach somebody some humility, right? Though attractive and possessing original and warty in features, these houses represent a calm down after the spacious luxury of 33 room, royal lodge and Windsor. Well, guess what? That's what happens when you screw up. You get punished. I know it's a new situation for Andrew to deal with, actually having some ramifications, but here we are. The time has come.

And I told you folks what six years ago. That the karma train was on the tracks and eventually it was going to find its way to Prince Andrew's station and here the fuck we are. With the Queen's death, Andrew lost his strongest ally. When the news broke of Virginia's lawsuit against Andrew in 2021, she wanted to meet him face to face to soften the blow. Her majesty, wish was granted, but a pair of senior courtiers, Sir Edward Young, her private secretary and Sir Michael Stevens, keeper of the privy purse, also attended. At the meeting, Andrew learned his patronages and military titles, not including being a vice admiral in the Royal Navy, were being withdrawn. The Windsor legacy also repeats the claim King Charles clamped down on his brother's extravagant expenditures, including tens of thousands of pounds on Indian health gurus. Tens of thousands of pounds on Indian health gurus, huh? Sounds like money well spent. Might as well just go out here, put that money into a bong and light it up and smoke it, you fucking idiot.

Her majesty waved through huge bills for spiritual advisers who encouraged Andrew to chant Indian mantras. Yo, can you imagine that one? Imagine being the poor person that has to come into the room to help Andrew out with whatever he needs. I don't know his teddy bears, rear adjusted or whatever, and you find him in there doing one of these Indian chants dressed like the dude from Indiana Jones. I'd be noping out all the way back home to my flat in London. I mean, you know the song by Kendrick Lamar not like us? Well, they are not like us folks within weeks of ascending to the throne King Charles was shocked to receive a 32,000 pound bill for Andrews live in yoga instructor. His younger brother expected the privy purse to pick up the tab, but King Charles intervened the new monarch wanted to rein in royal expenditure. Well, that's a good idea. 32,000 pounds for a live in yoga instructor. There's people living on the streets over in the UK can't feed themselves, but Prince Andrew is spending $32,000, $32,000 on a living yoga instructor like what does that even mean?

As somebody who grew up poor, I have no idea what that even means, a living yoga instructor. We're on from, we had live ins, living crack dealers, living drug dealers, living gangsters, no living yoga instructors though, and certainly not for a $32,000 bill. And what it really shows you and tells you is how absurd the whole entire thing is. I mean, it's absurd how they waste their money on dumb shit. There are so many people that are out there that are suffering, and you have people like Prince Andrew using public dollars on shit like this. If that doesn't get you fired up, I don't know what will. And really, I think that's the tragic punchline for most people, isn't it? I mean, you expect this kind of circus from washed up rock stars, hedge fund creeps or aging bea-less lebs with too much money and too little shame. But not from a guy who used to stroll behind the queen at state funerals, yet here we are, staring down the wreckage of what used to be royalty, and all that's left is a man who turned the royal estate into a frat house with tiaras.

Sandringham used to symbolize the quiet untouchable grandeur of the crown, now it's got the lingering stench of scandal and the faint whiff of poppers in the drapes. And maybe that's the ultimate metaphor for the whole Andrew saga, a man born into the illusion of divine right who ended up the poster boy for divine retribution. Every time he tries to crawl his way back to respectability, another story like this bubbles up to remind us that the rot wasn't just an Epstein circle, it seeped into the royal walls themselves. And if there's one thing we've learned about Prince Andrew by now, it's that he's not just capable of embarrassing the monarchy, he's made it in art form. So, here's to the joe exotic of the Windsor family, the man who brought poppers to Sandringham and managed to turn a royal legacy into an episode of the sopranos. Only this time, there's no Tony to yell at him, instead what he gets is the sound of history laughing. All of the information that goes with this episode can be found in the description box.

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