Sunday, 28 April 2013


Sunday 28th April.

I shan't be voting on Thursday.

Not a fit of pique regards my recent discussions, nor even the long anticipated 'Mercutio moment'. I am in fact to be the 'Master of Ceremonies' at my brother-in-law's wedding and in an odd twist have to be the other side of Kent on Wednesday evening, returning after the event on Friday, long after the polls have closed.

I don't necessarily consider this to be a problem for the residents of the new Division of 'West End, Lightwater & Bisley': without stronger opposition campaigning, its fairly accurate to predict that Adrian Page will be the new guy in these parts come Friday afternoon, with or without my vote.
Similarly, Mike Goodman is most likely to emerge the victor over in the new division of 'Bagshot, Windlesham & Chobham' despite the ridiculous efforts of some of his competitors.

But for the first time in 20 years, I won't thus be voting Tory.

And that realisation,
which seems to simulate the way in which one emancipates oneself from an ex,
is very, very interesting indeed.


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