Curse the English language. Its tricksy ways have caught me out on numerous occasions and it has just happened once more.

Unless you’ve been doing better things over the last month or so, you might know there was an election in the UK recently. The outcome of said election was far from clear and we’re still going through the arduous process of listening to politicians talk about coalitions and majorities and “mandates from the people” – all very enthralling stuff if you’re a rock.

Anyway, I digress. The point of my rant is that a hung parliament sounded cool. A call back to the times of the Tudors and Stewarts, dragging traitors through the streets by their figgin before hauling their now-detached heads on top of a shiny spike on the King’s house. But no – it just means that politicians get to have EVEN MORE dull, meaningless and utterly confusing discussions about sweet F.A. while the rest of us expire of boredom.

All I wanted was an MP or two hanging from Nelson’s Column. Was it really that much to ask!?

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