It's stupid o'clock and I'm sitting up to watch the overnight coverage of the election results in England, Scotland and Wales - they don't count in Northern Ireland until the morning.
There's nothing actually happening at the moment (I can tell you're surprised) so I thought I might take the opportunity to briefly advise that my visit to the polling station went as it has always gone since I moved to Pudsey in 2004, although this year with an added twist.
And I quote.
Polling clerk: "Name?"
Me: "Barry White."
Polling clerk: "Are you the Barry White?"
Polling clerk [pointing at her large, black, female colleague several desks along]: "Would you like to sing to her?
Her friend didn't look too disappointed, to be fair. But perhaps a little shocked.