Strangely, I Don't Feel Dirty

Unlike the Honourable Fiend, I did choose Labour today, not that it's any of your business, of course. But to my mind the choice was stark, anodyne backbench councillor or Greg 'the Africans are coming' Hands, with the result being the closest in London by all accounts. No nosepeg required, therefore.

Not that our virile PM (too much information, Tony) should take this as any kind of personal endorsement, after all, it was only lesser-evilism. It seems Will Self agreed with my choice too, bizarrely, according to today's Standard.

If only I'd kept my flat in Whitechapel though, I'd have marched to that ballot box with a fixed grin.

I spent this morning and early afternoon with some foreign observers and the diminished public interest on the ground was palpable. Tonight will be spent watching with a glass of wine in hand, sleepy but thinking of the time off in lieu.