OK, OK, it's Friday and you are wondering why I am not in Grumpy Old Man mode. The truth is I am serene again. But, you know me, I can always fake it. So here goes:
What a bloody disaster it was to let the three party leaders go on television together, American Presidential candidate style, and witter on platitudinously, occasionally scoring puerile points off each other or smiling vacuously like an advertisement for Sensodyne. Talking of smiles, I think Gordon Brown has a great future in Hammer Horror Movies once he's booted out of Number Ten. As long as he smiles....
This new electioneering departure has been good for the LibDem contender, Nick Clegg, though, because nobody knew what he looked like till the TV debates.
I will vote, of course, because it's my civic duty to do so, and also because I like to disconcert the blue-rinse ladies who man, if that's the word, the polling station. I usually, on picking up my ballot paper, ask a question like "Which one is the Fascist candidate?" or "Do I put a cross against the Labour candidate's name if I don't want him to get in?"
You know, I think I will stop at this point, because my heart really isn't in grump mode.
That's serenity for you.
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