It appears the election has stirred something within myself as tonight has been the most tweets as it were for anything. It’s almost as if I’m working, reporting on the “Jolly Election” as old David Dimbleby, the lord of Britain just put it.

Tomorrow, let’s see if we get what we need, not what we think will work as that hasn’t worked before.

Or am I just dreaming again and in reality, nothing will ever change in the wonderful bubble of the political world?

And now, an update from the end of June 2010: Perhaps now some time has passed, it’s best to comment on what had occurred that fateful night as far as the television went.

The BBC decided to stage the election in it’s “election studio”, something which was mentioned about once every 3 seconds, and was a cross between “Mission Control” and one of those evil lairs where the new Bond villain might be hiding in. All the usual suspects were on board to talk pointlessly to people for the first few hours about what might happen etc, then they just sit back and relax as people count all the pretty pieces of paper.

Oh and we had to have the celebrity knees-up every few minutes to see what people off the telly thought. Well certainly the impression I got was; cheers for the beers Mr. BBC!

But that was boring to the point of being in danger of contracting the disease from 28 Days later, so off we went to Sky News, with Adam Bloated, before he went nuts, almost everything you were seeing was being interrupted by a whoosing sound. If someone stood up, there was a whoosh, if someone had a chart to show, there was a whoosh. I swear there was a whoosh when someone farted….

And so to the main event of the evening, almost overshadowing the event of those funny people who pretend they know what they are doing, the Channel 4 Election Night, which in paper promised to be an excellent of crying over the nightmare which would follow, but alas, what we ended up with something, that was borderline a war crime.

One of the main reasons to watch was good old Charlie Brooker, a man who in the past has looked at countless hours of television news and mocked it beyond compare. It seems he was on the naughty step most of the time, as he had to stand at the back of the class, while Jimmy Carr labored through jokes so badly written, he’d been better off dangling his keys instead to get a better response.

At this point, my tweeting as it’s known in the fashoinable circles was at a all time high for one evening, being clever with lines like “Labour wins a seat. They get to take it home afterwards.” and “Oh no! People turned up to vote. What will happen next? (money is on a man running through the room on fire.)” in response to the fact that lots of people tried to vote then couldn’t.

I suppose when you have to start making your own entertainment up on an important evening, when all other avenues fail, you know you’re on a loser.

In the days that came afterwards, we still had Flash Gordan in Number 10, probably stealing the walnut cabinet holding the expensive scotch, while people argues about the fact that no-one was good enough to win outright. I thought it was one of the best results really, as no-one had really showed they knew what to do about the naughty that had happened beforehand.

After intense sexual pressure, We got a “buy one get one free” collation…collection….coal…..bunch of different people to run our fair country and it’s been a few weeks since they all took offices (and other things) and all we know so far is, they are just as corrupt as before (oh yes, already had a great scandal with that fellow fiddling his expenses to not tell people he’s gay, bless him) and stuff is going to be more expensive and puppies are to be drowned en mass as they don’t contribute to our GDP.

A victory for us all indeed.