SLEEPLESS IN LONDON

It's half past one in the morning can't sleep because every time I close my eyes I see Tony Blair, Michael Howard screaming at each other. Every political issue is noisily debated, if you can call it that.
Politics, I used to think was such a swear word that I didn't want it in the dictionary. Now I think it's the worst word in the world and I want to kill the person or persons who invented it.
God, how I wish sleep would come then I could get this awful nightmare over with. Just an hour or two without dreaming of politicians or seeing some important issue disappear into the evening sun is it too much to ask for? It's seeing Tony Blair with bright red skin and bloody horns and the whole of Britain singing, better the devil you know that's driving me crazy.
My only hope for my future suvival is a perfect dream. Davina, Kate, it would be nice if you could enter my dreams sometime tonight.