Sir Paul McCartney should have anticipated that his life would turn into a media circus the day he proposed to Bertram Mills's little girl, Heather. But I am really appalled by the press over-reaction to last week's sordid peek inside the McCartney-Mills mansion. Why are people so shocked that this alliance is ripping asunder after four years?
That's a long time for a multi-millionaire to put up with a woman's mood swings just because she scrubs up well.
"Pay up and move on, chum," I say to Paul, "life's too short and so is one of your wife's legs." (I forget which, it's a long time since Heather and I were that close).
As for the revelations themselves, they're hardly eyebrow raising, are they? So he cut her with a glass; so he pushed her in the bath; so he made her crawl to the toilet in the night; isn't this what married life is all about? I know mine was.
So he forbade her from breast feeding with the injunction "Those breasts belong to me"; talk about a storm in a D-cup.
After all, Sir Paul's not Prime Minister, is he?
The real mystery, so the journalists tell us, is the apparent lack of a pre-nuptial agreement. Surely Paul would have set down a tariff for Heather?
Ten million down, with a loyalty bonus every five years, sort of thing? But I believe that Paul, a shrewd businessman, prefers to take his luck in the divorce courts.
The hysterical accusations leaked last week, presumably by Heather's camp, won't harm him at all.
His adoring fan base, which includes most judges, will just assume Heather has made it all up, which is why I applaud Sir Paul, whose release of this material constitutes one of the finest double bluffs in the history of divorce law: those of you who think this leak is a case of Heather trying to kick Sir Paul while he's down should think again after all, she's not really equipped to do that, is she?
My own divorce was much simpler. Shortly after filing against me, on the grounds of cruelty, perversion, and membership of an organised crime fraternity (a bit hard on New Labour, I think), my wife suddenly came over all dead.
I'm still grieving, but life goes on though not for her. What she didn't live to learn was that I carefully drafted our pre-nup so that none of the promises it contained were legally binding.
This brings me to the New Conservatives' latest tax ideas.
These make impressive reading. The Shadow Cabinet, aka Lord Snooty and His Pals, make a good case for reducing income tax, abolishing inheritance tax and lightening the burden on business. All good vote-winning Tory policies.
Luckily my "plant" inside the Tory stockade (no names, obviously, but his initials are "MH") has managed to persuade the party that they shouldn't actually adopt these proposals as policies, as this would expose the Tories to attack from the Government benches.
Luckily, nobody in opposition seems to understand that if the Government isn't attacking you, it means they aren't scared, although it's hard to imagine being frightened of David Cameron, even if he does have a habit of knocking on his neighbours' front doors in Notting Hill at inconvenient times, and asking if he can borrow their last jar of preserved lemons.
In the months ahead, New Conservative think-tanks will come up with appealing new ideas for the health service, education, and foreign policy.
I am confident their leadership will shy away from these proposals, too. This approach opens up whole new political vistas. The New Conservatives will enter the lists at the next general election with a flimsy leaflet entitled "Not The Conservative Manifesto", in which they will assert that if elected they will undertake to follow New Labour policies to the letter.
This will expose the Tories to my brilliant counter-thrust. For the very next day, New Labour will release our manifesto, entitled "Ruining The Country", and then attack the New Conservatives mercilessly for vowing to adhere to our ludicrous plans. This imaginative masterstroke will force Cameron and co to campaign on a platform of stuffing the prisons beyond bursting point; committing the Armed Forces to fight un-winnable conflicts all across the globe; subverting the education system by making exams impossible to fail, and trashing our ancient constitutional freedoms in a vain effort to combat terrorism.
As a result New Labour are bound to be re-elected, for while the public will believe the Tories will carry out our plans, they'll be confident that we in New Labour will simply break our absurd promises.
Politics is simple, really.
Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran were talking to Alan B'Stard in his Notting Hill pied terre, but David Cameron kept knocking on the door apparently he was making a tagine.
They told him if he wanted preserved lemons he should try the House of Lords.
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