01:07 am


BBC now predicting overall Tory majority.

Better start dusting of the collar and leash. Walkies !

01:36 am. Run out of Guinness, eyes bleeding and I’ve got pins and needles in my legs. Time to go up the wooden hill to bed, remembering on the way to write “extra Winalot” on the shopping list stuck to the fridge door”. Maybe it’s like watching Charlton: If I don’t watch them they will somehow win? Either way, I need to go get my head down. Goodnight Mary-Ellen, goodnight John-Boy. Gordon’s just won his seat in Kirkaldy, but looks unhappy (but how can you really tell?).

Off to sleep and to dream of a miracle.

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