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Ah, polling day. Returning to the primary school you left years before, to find a place that once felt like the inside of York Minster has shrunk to the dimensions of a large garden shed. People wearing rosettes whom you’ve never seen before and will never see again asking how you voted. The distant sound of promises being shouted through speakers on the top of a car.
Anyway. I’m pleased to see that after being missing-presumed-binned for several years, someone’s had a rummage in the caretaker’s storeroom and brought back this woodface sign. Yes, that is my bike.
Ten-Inch Wheels 
>How I HATE this circus!!
>Affer, couldn't agree more. It was good to see how busy the Polling Station was this morning though – never had to queue to vote before!
>How I voted? Well, firstly I confirmed my identity, then went behind the little curtain in one of the booths, and ummed and ahhed for a moment or two as I addressed the table thoughts aswirling as to whether that nice Mr Clegg would actually become PM, realised he wouldn't and in despair voted for someone else. That sir is how I voted. Interestingly, the moderation code for this post is "emote", thus shall I do as my country goes down the pan with 5 more years of the same old mess.
>Curtains? We didn't get curtains! My MP will hear about this (whoever they turn out to be).
>Alas, my polling station had gone all laser-litho. No woodletter, even in reproduction.Nice bike, by the way, I have exactly the same.
>Hi alan – thanks for dropping in!