Prince Harry Sells Tickets To Therapy, Chelsea Handler Loves Attention, Ben Affleck Sucks At Parking, Catfish Filters & Unwritten Plane Rules

Here we are again. It's Tuesday, which means Daddy OutKick is letting me serve up the Nightcaps.

And just like Joe Biden walking up the stairs, this one's going to be a trip.

We've got more attention-seeking antics from royal brats Harry and Meghan and Chelsea Handler celebrating her birthday in the most extra way possible. Also, Ben Affleck needs to give up his keys, TikTok filters are out of control, and we'll do a deep dive into unwritten airplane etiquette.

The sun is shining in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, and I'm writing this from my backyard in a bikini. (Pictures of that later.)

So without further ado, crack yourself a cold one with me and let's get rolling.

Prince Harry wants you to feel sorry for him again.

As I reported yesterday (shameless self-promotion), the Duke of Sussex will unpack all of his emotional baggage with a "trauma expert" during a livestream on Saturday. And you can buy tickets to this “intimate conversation” for just $33! Your ticket also comes with a copy of his whiny, tell-all memoir.

Now, at this point, making fun of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle is like shooting fish in a barrel. But I have to get this off my chest. Because while "We want privacy!" is easy to mock (and we certainly do), no one is mentioning the glaring hypocrisy of these nutjobs.

Now, I typically roll my eyes at the term "white privilege," but work with me here.

Prince Harry was born into unimaginable wealth, power and — yes — privilege. Now, he's charging people money to watch him unpack all of his emotional baggage. People who, undoubtedly, have a lot less money and a lot more trauma than he does.

For the record, I acknowledge that anyone can struggle with mental health, regardless of their position in life. But to use your "trauma" as a way to stack more millions under the guise of helping others "heal"? Talk about opportunistic victimhood.

Listen, I'm all for capitalism. But for a group of people who love to hammer the "white privilege" narrative, that's some pretty privileged sh-t.

Anyway, now I'm irritated. So let's move onto something completely unserious.

Chelsea Handler hits the slopes in a bikini.

If there's anyone who loves attention more than Harry and Meghan, it's comedian Chelsea Hander.

If, of course, just constantly talking about how horny you are and saying the word "vagina" as many times as possible makes you a comedian.

This week Handler celebrated her 48th birthday in the only way she knows how — by making a giant scene.

Here she is hitting the slopes in her dual-action United States of Canada bikini.

But this kind of behavior is pretty commonplace for her.

Earlier this month, Handler caused some pearl-clutchers to clutch pearls when she posted a video following her "Day in the Life of a Childless Woman."

Roll the tape.

I'm going to do the unthinkable here and defend Chelsea. The video is over the top, and she is — for the most part — insufferable.

But as a fellow childless woman who plans to stay that way, I applaud her for being a champion of our cause. And I know this is where I differ from a lot of my fellow conservative friends.

But I, too, like doing whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want.

Plus, I never have to worry about this.

A lady in Canada called the police on Burger King.

If there's anything that makes a person madder than their kitchen cabinets coated in peanut butter, it's a long line at the drive thru.

A woman in Manitoba called 911 over the weekend because the line at Burger King was too long.

This call prompted the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to tweet out a reminder that the emergency line is only for — well — emergencies.

Respectfully, when I'm hungry, it is an emergency. Just ask my husband.

But also, who are the Canadians to tell us that being hangry isn't a justifiable reason to call the police? I'm old enough to remember when Justin Trudeau would send the Mounties after you for the crime of being outside without a face diaper.

Anyway, sorry, Burger King lady. I guess you can't ALWAYS have it your way.

Ben Affleck needs to hire a driver.

Mr. Jennifer Lopez had a parallel parking nightmare Monday when his Benz got lodged in between two other vehicles in Brentwood, Calif.

He pauses for a moment to have a cigarette and contemplate life before he plows his car multiple times into the vehicle in front of him.

Check out the video.

Honestly, we've all been here. I can't tell you how many times in downtown Nashville I've parked my car only to return and find some A-hole has blocked me in.

And if, like Ben, I had the money to go through vehicles like toilet paper, then I'd probably have a demolition derby of my own.

That said, this isn't Affleck's first time getting caught on camera in a tight spot while driving. Last year, he and J-Lo went the wrong way into a Starbucks drive thru and took the whole sign with them.


Good thing they weren't in Manitboa. The drive thru Karen would have absolutely called the Mounties for this one.

Honestly, he probably deserved it for cheating on Dunkin'.

And finally, who could forget the time Affleck's son crashed his bright yellow Lamborghini while trying to park last year?

Seriously, guys. Just hire a driver.

A new TikTok filter has the catfish coming out in droves.

I'll admit — I avoid TikTok like Pete Buttigieg avoids East Palestine, Ohio. But I do get a kick out of scrolling Instagram and watching influencers talk to me with their face-smoothing, fake eyelash filters.

Fellas, I know you love Instagram models. In fact, it's an entire genre for my co-workers here at OutKick. But 90-150 percent of what you're seeing is not real.

Exhibit A: TikTok's "Bold Glamour" filter is so transformative it has some users claiming it should be illegal. Let's take a look.


So we're clear, this woman is beautiful without the filter. But this just goes to show you exactly how easy these social media platforms make it to completely change your appearance with just a click.

Even actress Katherine Heigl chimed in on the filter.

"Ummm....I hate this b-tch," she captioned her video.

Stay vigilant out there, guys. And don't say I didn't warn you.

Let's talk about airplane etiquette.

A TikTok video made the rounds yesterday of a shirtless bloke named Jay Kloss who was big mad that a man wouldn't switch seats with him so that he could sit next to his wife.

Jay's wife Zoe had a window seat while Jay had the aisle in the same row but on opposite sides of the plane. It was business class, so there were no middle seats.

When they walked onto the plane, Jay said he politely asked the man in the aisle seat, “Hey bro, would you mind moving so I can sit with my missus? It’s her birthday.”

Spoiler alert: The guy declined. But I'll let Jay tell you about it:

A couple things: First, no one cares that it's Zoe's birthday.

I get it. I, myself, am a pretty, pretty birthday princess during the entire month of January. But pulling that card to get your preferred airplane seat is really lame. And it's probably why the guy said no.

Second, the stranger was obviously being a dick about it. Personally, I believe if you're asked to swap an aisle for an aisle, you should do it. That guy clearly woke up Monday and chose to be difficult.

But in the end, Jay and Zoe both got to their destination safely and at the same time. It probably wasn't worth a shirtless TikTok rant. Save your anger for more important things — like baggage fees and how you have to pay for slow WiFi that never works.

Which brings me to our Nightcaps question of the day: What are your non-negotiable, unwritten airplane rules?

Who gets the armrest? Is it okay to recline the seat? Should you be obligated to switch seats with people who are separated from their families?

Tweet me at @TheAmberHarding and let me know. Because I'm ready to fight you on the recliner thing.

By the way, I totally lied earlier about those bikini photos of me. I just wanted you to keep reading.

OutKick Nightcaps is a daily column set to run Monday through Friday at 4 p.m. (roughly, we’re not robots).

Want to send me your nightmare airplane story? Or lecture me about how I'm going to end up sad and alone without kids? Email me at