7 deeply irrational ways to celebrate the royal birth

A POSH woman you don’t know has had a baby. Amazing. But are you unsure how to celebrate because it would be insane? Here are some suggestions:

Make something rubbish and send it to the baby. Super-rich Kate and Wills will be delighted to receive a knitted nappy or odd-looking cake, especially in an era of ruthless global terrorism.

Dress from head-to-toe in union jack clothing and hang around the hospital with union jack shopping trolleys and carrier bags like escapees from The Queen Mother Memorial Asylum. Take some dolls to look extra mad.

Spend at least £150 on total crap that is nothing to do with royal babies, eg. a nylon elephant in an England shirt containing an AM radio made in Hangzhou.

Channel your joy about the baby into angry nationalism. Contemptuously say other countries “have nothing like our royal family”, although they clearly do if you read the news, which you don’t.

Get very emotional. Cry and drivel on about how superlatively beautiful the normal-looking baby is. Do this while your own kids are left at home with a bag of Wotsits for dinner, being supervised only by your muscular dog.

Organise a street party. Spend a miserable afternoon eating cheap sausage rolls with your weird neighbours, who now want you to organise a much bigger event for Harry and Meghan’s wedding.

Stand up and salute the TV during bulletins about the baby. It seems weird to other people but not you because you’re off your nut.

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No one gives a tuppenny f**k what you dreamt about last night

IT may have featured Tom Hardy in arseless chinos and an alien horse invasion but no one wants to hear your dream, it has been confirmed.

A study revealed that nobody is in the slightest bit interested in your subconscious, even if it did involve being ‘naked in Tesco’.

Emma Howard, from Bristol, said: “This morning I told my husband I had a really weird dream and he just said ‘oh’ with insufficient enthusiasm.

“I started telling him about it anyway, but he just stared at me like I was a party political broadcast by the Lib Dems.

”Then I rang my mum and told her I had a strange dream and she hung up on me and blocked my number.”

Professor Henry Brubaker, of the Institute for Studies, said: “Unless the dream featured Freddy Krueger and you woke up with the slash marks to prove it, no one gives a shit.

“The best you can hope for is that they feel put-upon by a self-absorbed weirdo.”