HARRY and Meghan are divorcing. You read it here first.
That’s because I read it in a slew of ludicrous US publications — ones where libel laws don’t really exist and false news is, well, just news.
Recent highlights include an In Touch front-page headline, “Kim Kardashian Paid To Get Fat”, and “Jen Aniston’s Baby Joy” (32 times has the never-pregnant star been pregnant, according to American mags).
Harry and Meghan are divorcing – you read it here first[/caption] I am reliably told Meghan was barely seen at the pair’s California mansion in Monticeto when the pair stayed there[/caption]Or “Kim Kardashian: My Butt Won’t Stop Growing” [maybe she’s paid to get fat], and the National Enquirer: “Beyonce and Jay-Z’s $1billion divorce” [spoiler: they are still wed].
The National Enquirer also printed Whitney Houston’s “Last Ever Photo” — a shot of the poor soul in her coffin. [technically, it was her last ever photo, but, yeah, not cool].
I digress.
But according to dodgy mags across the Pond, and even one in Spain, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex are in the middle of a trial separation and/or heading to the divorce courts before you can say “finding freedom”.
Over here, of course, we wouldn’t be so bold — or legally liable — to write anything so silly.
And because I can sense my lawyers now twitching furiously — for the record, Harry and Meghan have NOT announced their separation.
Newspapers and broadcasters can, however, slowly drip-feed the facts.
That the couple, six and a bit years on from their wedding extravaganza, are now spending more time then ever apart.
That while Prince “I want privacy” Harry made a surprise appearance on US TV’s Jimmy Fallon show, running through a haunted maze and saying “f***” a lot, former Suits actress Meghan — someone who is surely more aligned with going on the Jimmy Fallon show — was nowhere to be seen.
That, over the past few months, Harry has been on a series of solo work trips — ones for which his wife would previously have been Pritt Sticked to his side, smiling for the cameras.
We are by now well used to hard-done-by Harry scowling — but, particularly of late, he really, really cannot turn that frown upside down.
Meg has now ventured down the red carpet on her tod, too, making a guest appearance at the Children’s Hospital Los Angeles Gala.
She looked stunning in a Carolina Herrera red frock — which she wore alongside Harry at a benefit do three years ago.
Members of their team have been studiously briefing, insisting all is fine and that it’s perfectly normal for couples to spend some time apart.
Which, in itself, seems an extraordinary and unnecessary move if all truly is well.
Surely, say nothing.
Friends of friends from the UK claim that earlier this year the pair stayed at their California mansion, in Montecito.
But I am reliably told Meghan was barely seen — prompting speculation she was perhaps not in the marital home.
Of course, she, too, may have been with friends — or hiding away in a wing, desperately not associating with friends of friends of mine.
Who knows what is really going on? Probably only Meghan and Harry.
And, really, why should they brief the rest of us on how strained or otherwise the atmosphere is over the breakfast island?
Whatever the truth, Harry and Meghan don’t always help themselves — with members of staff quitting or being culled at a rate of knots, it is a tableau that doesn’t exactly scream loyalty, contentment and domestic bliss.
Should Harry and Meghan ever truly separate — and let’s hope they never do — the split would be like the fall of Rome. Slow at first then all at once.
To conclude — as my wise mother once said: “I give it seven years.”
GOD loves a trier.
Mattel, the maker of Barbie – that pneumatic, pink-loving, Ken-worshipping beacon of feminism – tried to make a Virginia Woolf lookalike doll.
The ludicrous proposition – “flattened out a bit” and hidden “beneath a long Victorian dress” – was vetoed by family of author and essayist Virginia.
“Over our dead bodies”, was the feedback, according to Woolf’s great-niece.
Which is more feminist than any Barbie doll could ever be.
RYLAN sparked fierce national debate this week by tweeting about how incensed he was after a pedestrian refused to give a wave of thanks at a zebra crossing.
“Fans”, this being X, immediately laid into him, suggesting he was merely miffed at not being recognised – or that it “wasn’t the law”.
He wrote: “I know pedestrians have right of way at zebra crossings . . . BUT SAY THANK YOU OR POP UR HAND UP. Rude pr**ks.”
“I’ve been brought up to say thanks when a car slows down at a zebra crossing.”
Rylan has been brought up right.
Nothing infuriates me more – besides holding a door open for someone for what seems like an eternity and not receiving so much as a grunt of acknowledgment – than people not waving their thanks at a zebra crossing.
It’s rule 101.
THIS little gem has been doing the rounds on social media.
A Manhattan-based woman has screen-shotted the dating app profile of a prospective match.
In it, the bloke says: “Hello everybody.” [So far, so good.]
“Hoping to meet interesting women. I’m an entrepreneur and also work as an executioner in Saudi Arabia. If that scares you then I apologise.” [Cute, thoughtful.]
“It’s more like a hobby (I don’t do it as often as before since I don’t live in Saudi Arabia any more. I like watching movies, going out, listening to music.”
Here’s hoping he hasn’t already been snapped up.
FOR YEARS I have been beating this drum.
And, slowly, slowly catchy monkey, the world and my mates are catching up.
“Sleep divorce” is finally a thing – with couples realising that, yes, they sleep better alone than squished into a European King alongside a snoring, snuffling, 1am and 3am-urinating warthog of a partner.
A new report shows couples – those lucky enough to do so – are moving to bigger homes, building extensions to shunting out kids in order to sleep separately.
One in 20 of us, and one in ten in cramped London, are now remortgaging so we can expand and have our own bedrooms.
Call me unromantic or neurodiverse but no amount of cuddling makes up for a solid eight hours of sheer, unadulterated, blissful kip. Solo.
LAST week, I bemoaned Labour’s largely unfair plans to impose VAT on private schools – effectively punishing hard-working, not super-wealthy parents, and further overwhelming the state system.
Now unions, tax experts and school leaders have voiced concerns that sticking to the tax’s proposed January 1 start date will cause chaos and teacher job losses.
The move will also seriously impact children with special educational needs and disabilities if state schools have to cater for them.
The scheme will drive more than 10,000 pupils out of independent education, and schooling the extra students in the state system will cost the taxpayer £92.8million.
Rishi Sunak said it would take Labour 100 days to sink Britain – four days off, and it seems he wasn’t wrong.
A SURGEON used a Swiss Army knife to open up the chest of patient, after being unable to locate a scalpel.
A scathing report from the Royal Sussex County Hospital in Brighton explained that the patient had gone into cardiac arrest in the operating theatre, meaning that life-saving surgery – with the penknife – was needed.
Colleagues have seemingly thrown the surgeon under the bus, saying that they were “very surprised” he was unable to find a scalpel.
Apparently, the pen-knife was his own – used to slice open lunchtime fruit.
Frankly, hygiene worries aside, plaudits are surely due for such ingenuity.
IN least surprising news of the year, Britain is getting fatter.
NHS figures show we are on average around a stone heavier than 30 years ago.