You see, Kate Middleton, the Duchess of Cambridge, aka “The Royal It's Ok To Like As She Seems Pretty Normal... So far”, is having a baby.
That in itself is lovely news, as many stories about people expecting children tend to be. As a father myself now, I can appreciate the excitement and the wonder at what is to come (prior to being so tired you are able to hear colours and often have lurid fantasies about half-hour naps), but what I can't appreciate is the blanket mediagasm which is happening around the announcement of the pregnancy and Kate's morning sickness and stuff.
Ok, she's one of the most famous women in the universe right now (and any news about Kate Middleton means there is less space to write about that talentless, vapid little trollop Tulisa), but would it be so much to ask that we give her a bit of privacy right now?
Endless speculation as to what the baby will be (I'm guessing small and pink for a while), what it's name will be (Gemima Terence Gruntlethwack Bingle – you read it here first!), the birth, the fact that the child will be third in line for the monarchy, it's all going to be filling every media outlet for months now. Ah well, who needs real news anyway? At least it makes a change from everyone talking about the bloody X-factor.
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