As we crossed the finish line there was much cheering and a man with a microphone ran up wanting to interview us. A bit of banter and a few laughs - especially when I mentioned that we had come this far to "escape the election" - and he signed off with a "Good luck with Brexit!"
Talk about a car crash.
I had jokingly said this was Ms May's election to lose, not Corbyn's to win, but hardly expected my words to be quite so prophetic.
Not being known to mince my words, and having already endured friendship fallouts from the lamentable referendum of last June, I decided to focus instead on one of the books we were set to read for Kevin's next rendezvous.
Now possibly because I was so put out by a trust fund hypocrite being re-elected to my local constituency - by a mere forty-five votes, no less - my take on this book was, ermm, let's just say less than favourable.
Aussie Solicitor, who has (perhaps wisely) not read it yet, asked me what I thought.
"An absolute pile of shit."
Like I said, no word-mincing.
And a perfect analogy for other events too.
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