Despite all the yapper about an election year, it doesn't feel like an election year, in fact it feels more like an old grizzly lumbering its way to a scratching post and getting ready to aim a rump at the front row, just in time for the prime-time circus.
With less than four(?) months to go before a swarm of "x's" change the stripe of the same jacket, and despite the continual ya-bo-sucks-to-you politics in parliament, it feels as laden with energy as a fallen yorkshire pudding feeding a family of 20.
I could, however, be mistaken and simply missed the pulsating venom of change coursing its way through the populace with each passing day; a case of casting out the old, by replacing with the same-old.
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