Well I need some new underwear.
I watched all night and around two-thirty this morning, the exit campaign was looking a bit shaky, but here we are; the voters voted, the electorate elected and the upshot is that, just as the Americans did back in 1776, Britain has opted to declare it’s independence from remote rule.
For the baying mob that attacked Boris Johnson outside his house this morning, well that was classy and sure did make me proud not to be a part of their version of what’s British.
Nothing supports a political perspective more than a bunch of petulant children chucking their toys out of their pram because things didn’t go their way, I don’t know quite what the torch-wielding villagers hoped to achieve but, from where my bloodshot eyes were peering at the tele, it appeared to fly directly in the face of the ‘Bremain’ claims of tolerance.
Anyhoo, I shall, as my mother taught me, give gloating a swerve and I think it’d be super cool if the torch-wielders could remember that nobody likes a sore loser.
For me, the real tragedy here is Dave’s decision to throw himself on his own sword.
Back in May 2010 I wrote this diary entry about the results of the General Election.
At that point in my life I was pretty firmly in the red camp and wasn’t terribly impressed with the idea of a Tory-Boss-Man but with the passing of the intervening years, watching David Cameron at the helm of our country, I have been forced to eat my own words.
When I’m wrong, I’m wrong and I’m happy to put my hands up and say so.
I have been interested in politics since I was still in long socks, it was unavoidable in my home as every meal was accompanied by political debate. Over the decades I have seen Prime Ministers come and go so, despite my being late to the Camp-David party, I have to say, unequivocally, that I have been more impressed with David Cameron’s political dignity and statesmanship than ever before.
He won me over because he led this country from the front and I’m gutted that he isn’t going to be the guv’nor during the challenging months and years that Britain now has to come.
Thank you for your service and contribution Mr Cameron.
Thank you for giving Britain the opportunity to decide whether it wanted to be in the European Union or not.
That was a brave decision and I am convinced that it was done because you put the British people’s wishes ahead of your own career ambitions.
Annabelle and I heard your voice break during your speech this morning and my fourteen year old daughter went on to sob that she will always remember you as the politician who behaved like a grown-up.
I however, will always remember you as the Prime Minister who allowed Top Gear to undertake a trade mission to India.
Which was awesome.
But, irrespective, one thing is for sure; after the events of the last twenty-four hours, I think we can all agree on one thing.
You will definitely be remembered.