I must have dropped off at the wheel because before I knew it I was crashing through the fencing, past the sheep and into the ditch at the end of the field. The sheep came over to investigate. I could tell I’d worried them. I mean, I must have looked quite a sight: my face covered in blood, my car written off, shattered glass everywhere.
“If you think this is bad,” I said to one of the ewes, “you should see the choices for US President.”
She just kept on chewing, clearly in denial.
And that, officer, is when I must have passed out.