You may be surprised to learn that I was momentarily distressed this morning to read the Telegraph headline "Thatcher ready to quit Britain", and even surpriseder to learn that I was relieved when it turned out that the witch in question was the totally-without-redeeming-features Carol of that ilk.
"Why was I sad? And later desaddened?" I hear you ask.
Well, I saw it as a potential final kick in the teeth for those of us who number among her majesty's unemployed, and are therefore not particularly "flush" as the colloquialism goes. Were the vile old bitch to be interred overseas, where, I ask would we find the funds in order to be able to make the pilgrimage to dance on her grave?