Harry Windsor and the Half-Blog Prince

On Monday, it was St. George’s Day, and regardless of whether you are an English patriot or not, you have to admit that, as days go, Monday was about as English as they come – not only was the weather almost entirely nondescript (it was neither warm nor cold, and neither dry nor wet), but we also welcomed the safe arrival of the latest member of our Royal Family… with typical British indifference.


Ok, there were some people (I like to call them morons), who gathered outside the hospital in their finest Union Jack clothing, with their faces painted and waving the flags they’ve obviously been keeping safe since the birth of Princess Charlotte in 2015 (and, before that, the Queen’s Jubilee no doubt); but, generally speaking, the English population – and, indeed, the majority of the world – reacted to the birth of the fifth in line to the throne with one colossal shrug of the shoulders.



Don’t get me wrong, I quite like William and Kate (and Harry, for that matter), since – unlike the majority of the Royal Family – they actually strike me as decent people, but I cannot for the life of me understand the frenzy created by the press, purely because ‘The Cambridges’ procreated for the third time.

The first baby (George), fair enough, I understand the excitement; and even the second (Charlotte) at a push – pun intended – but most people don’t give a shit about the birth of their own children beyond the first two (by the time parents get to the third child, they have essentially given up on life anyway), so why should we feign interest in another couple adding to their misery, royal or otherwise?

As I posted on my Facebook page earlier this week, the only way I could possibly muster even the slightest bit of interest in another royal baby, would be if:

  1. We all got a national holiday to celebrate; or
  2. They named the baby something hugely inappropriate, like Wayne or Kevin; or
  3. The baby is clearly mixed-race or, better still, ginger.

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Then it would be interesting news.

It’s difficult to feel sorry for Kate, because she must have known what she was getting into when she married Prince William, and she’ll never have to worry about money (or getting a proper job) ever again, but sweet Jesus the press need to leave her alone.


Within a few hours of the poor woman giving birth, again, she was paraded around in front of the world’s press, so they could analyse what she was wearing. Oh, sure, they might have claimed it was to get their first glimpse of the new prince, but everyone knows babies are generally ugly little fuckers most of the time, so I’m not buying that for one second.

I also don’t believe that Kate deliberately wore red and white because it was St. George’s Day, or because ‘those were the colours Diana wore, when she left hospital with Harry in 1984’. Frankly, I’d have been more impressed if she’d worn what she wanted to wear, which I can almost certainly guarantee was a hoodie, joggers, and a pair of comfy slippers.

I understand that this was no ordinary baby, because very few new-born children are even remotely close to ruling the British empire (I’m now 38, and nowhere near the throne – in fact, I’m much nearer to joining The Sugababes than the Royal Family), however you can’t help but wonder if Kate secretly wanted, just for once, to be like a normal mum who has given birth a few hours earlier.

In fact, imagine if William and Kate had gone through childbirth like the rest of us…..

On St. George’s Day, Two Thousand Eighteen

We welcomed the fifth in line to the Queen

A brand new royal – The Cambridge’s third

The press reaction was rather absurd.

Behind closed doors, with the UK’s best team

Kate gripped William’s hand, and let out a scream

Outside, the journos gathered and waited

For news that the Duchess was fully dilated.

In a private wing, no doubt fancy and plush

Kate focused on breathing, then, with one final push

The baby arrived – and next to the bed

William greeted his new-born, all wrinkly and red.

He gazed at his wife, gave her hand a quick pat

‘Well done old girl-’

‘Fuck off you twat –

That’s three times in five years I’ve been up the duff

Never again now, enough is enough

I’m exhausted, I’m sore, I’m painful and tender

Come near me again, your dick goes in a blender

I know all the protocols, I’ve read all the rules

But so help me God, I’ll rip off your crown jewels.’

And with that, Will backed off, then nervously said

‘Do you think you feel able to get out of bed?

The press are outside, and they want a quick look

To which Kate turned purple and screamed ‘What the fuck?!

I don’t care if Sky News are camped on the roof

I’ve just pushed 8lb of child out my foof.’

Will said ‘Calm down dear, no need for the swearing

They just want to see you, and check what you’re wearing-‘

‘Tell you what baldy, why don’t you head on down,

Say my bits are on fire and I’m wearing a gown.’

‘Kate, please, it’s just a quick chat with the press

I’ve already picked out a nice looking dress

It’s red and white, like the one my mum wore

When she walked out with Harry, back in ’84.’

‘Look, I know that you miss her, but that’s a bit creepy

Plus, I feel like shit and I’m incredibly sleepy

I’m sure that the nation won’t think me a traitor

If you announce that I’ll pop down a littler bit later.’

But William persisted and begged Kate to go

To slap on some make-up, then put on a show

In the end she turned round and said ‘What’s it worth,

To go greet the world, barely hours after birth?’

To which Will replied, ‘Ok dear, don’t you worry,

I’ll speak to my gran, see if you can have Surrey.’

The Duke & Duchess Of Cambridge Depart The Lindo Wing With Their New Son

And with that the Cambridges met with the press

Who cooed at the baby, admired Catherine’s dress

A prince on St. George’s Day – a Mail writer’s dream

And Kate smiled sweetly, despite wanting to scream.

Then after, Will cradled his new son and heir

Stroked his small head, spotted one ginger hair

He turned to his wife, in the dress like his mother’s

Who said, ‘Did I mention, that this baby’s your brother’s’?


Thanks for reading, folks x


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