The smell of political death is in the air and the stench gets ever more pungent as the day goes on. Bwaahahahahaha, not long to go now until the Big Sleep . . . . and then there's the funeral tomorrow.
Now that'll be fun.
I'm off to vote/write something suitably Gottish on my ballot paper and will no doubt be my usual self, if any of those clip board fuckwits approach the Grumpy Old Twat after he exits the polling station. Cue the now customary 'tut-tuts' from Pigsy when she has to accompany me on such occasions.
Never mind, I'll make it up to her later ...... I'll let her pop down to the Wine Shop with a shopping list so that she can pick up my vital supplies for tonight. Now where did I put my wallet. Oh dear, sorry luv, can't seem to lay my hands on it at the moment. Good job I'm in an excellent mood today ..... I'll even let her pay as well.
I'm just too fucking nice sometimes ;-)