Voting. I bloody love voting me. I always get up early to vote so I have time to register a few more votes later. The bloke next door never gets out the house so I always pretend to be him and our incumbent MP is so out of touch I doubt he'll either remember or bother so a quick change of clothes and a wig should see me OK there.
This is the first election in which I have not actively been out campaigning but if you lead an umbrella organisation you can't risk upsetting the Umbrella Commission with their strict guidelines on not favouring one party over another. They probably have their spies everywhere checking I am not going round carrying a placard saying "Vote for the Bogg Society. Even though it is a pile of shite masquerading as a serious blueprint for effective change". The very idea that a regulator should do its job and enforce the law seems very big brother to me but there you go.
On my way to the polling station I wonder whether tactical voting includes staying in the polling booth for 15 hours to prevent others using it? If so you could marshal a few friends, get there at 7am sharp and ensure a small but sufficient majority for your chosen candidate.
Not that Sky have rigged but I was surprised when the man behind the desk said he'd mark my paper for me and offered me deal on a HD box. And then I faced further confusion as the media had led me to believe I was choosing between Clegg, Brown and Cameron but when I looked at the ballot paper none of them were listed.
I wasn't happy about the quality of my local polling station. I may have to move to get into a better school next time. And it was sad to see so many kids playing truant today of all days. A sure sign that Britain is indeed broken. Indeed when I walked past one local school there were strange looking blokes hanging around but no kids. Very odd.
Amidst the excitement of voting though the Farage plane crash puts thing in perspective. We could all put our party differences aside and say "why wasn't it Griffin?" And I was amused to see the news that Brown was so confused by the tactical voting issue that he voted Lib Dem by mistake.
Having exercised both Barkles and my right to vote I headed to the office before a busy lunchtime. It has often been said I am out to lunch and I actually managed three today. Firstly with my coke dealer at yet another lavish restaurant, talking about how Umbrella Investment Business can help solve umbrella problems for the poorest in society while living the good life. We didn't come up with any good ideas, however, in fact we are going to just gloss over inequity. And as fudges go, that's to die for.
Then I had a blinding curry with a secretary with a perm (I can't say who - she's married) and then met up with Dom Blond, the self-appointed wizard of repackaging vague ideas as radical policy (and taking credit for my Bogg Society ideas (see link)). Appropriately we went to a restaurant that promised an exciting and eclectic new mix of dishes but was simply some pretty badly cooked old ones reheated.
I actually had a fourth lunch with my chair and Pathfinder Slobs (chair of umbrella volunteering organisation Brollunteering England) but the food was rubbish (as Homer Simpson once said, you don't win friends with salad) so no need to go into any more detail. Back in the office now and dreading what we may face tomorrow morning.