That’s all

It’s Friday, the final election results are coming in. My body is buzzing from exhaustion. I am dressed in a French Connection, TK Max, Dublin. There’s a days worth of stubble on my face. Krakow, or is it Kent is crumbling. And some sub-Raymond Chandler has hijacked my brain. But I’ve had a late night; and an early morning; and the new day that was dawning (just could not resist that rhyme), is punctuated with exhaustion.

I’ve been entertained by the Election. And in many ways the result has entertained me more, than any scripted comedy or drama. I was adsorbed by the nuances of all the election pundits rolled out; from the Political Professor to Bruce Forsyth. And I started to like Peter Mandelson, which made me feel used; but he was pulling out all the stops. And in the end, that’s what’s lacking about the new boys (and that’s a cross-party thing), they lack personality.


That’s all.