1. Do not, at all costs, switch on any radio, television or satellite channels between the hours of 06:00 on Friday 29th until next year. You may well be intent on watching or listening to something interesting, but during the ads or between programmes there will be 60 second news clips about the dress, the hair, the crowds, the guests .. any tiny aspect that has not be wringed of every last drop of hype and bollocks will be rolled out for weeks to come.
2. Do not buy any newspaper. Of course, if you normally buy the Daily Mail you will not be reading this and you will be happily hanging out the bunting, making jugs of Pimms and preparing triangular cucumber sandwiches at this point.
3. Ensure that your i-Pod is fully loaded with at least 30Gb of your favourite aural pleasure. I have pasted a few recommendations further on, or perhaps you will go for some serious French revolutionary stuff. Just ensure that it's fully charged and you have some means of re-charging that does not involve turning on the PC and internet, which will also be afflicted by the nasty 'wedding special' virus.
4. Ensure that your cupboards are fully stocked and car fully loaded with fuel. You cannot risk going to the shops as there will undoubtedly be newspapers on display with wedding bollocks on the front, or TVs for sale showing any channel in the world which will have something on debating whether Kate really was virginal or had secretly played away with Harry whilst Bill was playing with his copter joystick. Or something.
5. You now have two choices: either stay in bed all day with the curtains closed, nothing but the i-Pod on and all windows and doors locked, or go out very early to remoter areas, like ancient woodland or vast moors and heaths, where you are unlikely to encounter random street parties and cooing women wittering on about the dress, the hair, the crowds ......
6. In the unfortunate event that despite your best laid plans you run into crowds or individuals plagued by royal wedding fever, just shut your eyes, stick your fingers in your ears and very loudly shout 'la la la la la la la la la FUCK OFF' until you think they have dispersed in tears. Or fear of their lives.
"I've been dreaming of a time when, the English are sick to death of Labour, and Tory, and spit upon the name Oliver Cromwell, and denounce this Royal line that still salutes him ......."
"So I checked all the registered historical facts, and I was shocked into shame to discover, how I'm the 18th pale decendent, of some old queen or other ......"
"How can you stay, with a fat girl who says would you like to marry me, and if you like you can buy the ring ....."