My mate Gavin, barman in the Boar’s Head, did me a huge disservice over the weekend. I may well never fully recover.

He know my views on the Royal family*. He knows my views on the Mail newspaper. He’s well versed in my views on the photosupplements the pernicious rag chooses to issue on a whim. And just to be an arse, he kept a photosupplement especially for little ol’ me.

If you don’t quite follow the ins and outs of the line of Royal succession, let me fill you in**. Prince Harry is fifth in line to the throne. I don’t have anything against the bloke, who strikes me as an amiable cove who likes a beer, though the fancy dress as a Nazi may not have been the most diplomatic move in the world. We all make mistakes.

He is currently dating one Meghan Markle***. She’s an actress of some sort, but not an A-lister. Not even B, really. Until now, because now the Mail decided it would be a damned fine splendid idea to make her and Hal the subject of a 24 page photosupplement.

They went into great detail about her ethnicity (yawn). FYI her mum is an African American. Her dad is Caucasian. Do you give a rat’s arse? No, I thought not. About as much of a rat’s arse as I gave about the reminder that the Sacred Katherine is the daughter of ‘…a former air stewardess descended from mining stock.’ Neither of these facts has enriched my life one iota. I doubt they have done much to enrich yours either, but I feel it incumbent on me to keep you apprised of the facts. Or ‘share the pain,’ as I also think of it.

Just what is the point? Twenty four pages of vacuous, aimless twaddle and some very iffy paparazzi shots. He’s a minor royal, she’s an actress, and they are apparently enjoying shagging each other. Big deal. Nothing to see here. Move on.

I’m going to have to get medieval on Gavin’s arse, aren’t I?

*Not a huge fan, but probably better on balance than a presidency.

**I don’t either, so I had to look it up.

***I didn’t know who she was either, and having looked her up I’m not much the wiser.

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