Anyway. The election. I like Gordon Brown, you know. I do. I find him so endearing. Let's face it, he is dry, grumpy and dour. He has the social skills of a grizzly bear. He looks rather 'special needs' when he smiles, like he should be in some day-centre, weaving willow baskets and listening to whale music. I imagine a fun night in for GB involves slippers, sardines on toast, simultaneous equations and (on a very cold night) one-bar of the electric fire lit. BUT, I do think he has integrity. I like that he is utterly unpolished and very human. His lack of sophistication and gloss is actually his USP. So what if he loses his temper and bullies his minions. Christ on a bike!!! He is the Prime Minister. A lot of stress, I would imagine. I'd rather have that than David Cameron, who would probably just run away, crying for his nanny. Or lentil-bothering, granola-eating, feathery stroker Nick Clegg who would hide behind the un-ironed, linen skirts of his stridently feminist wife.
I do love Sarah Brown too, she seems very warm and natural. Not only does she appreciate a miserable and taciturn man, but she has a thing for retro cardigans and Lola Rose necklaces. A kindred spirit indeed! We could be sisters! In fact, to be honest, I often wish Sarah was standing for PM.
Don't get me started on Mrs Cameron - far too pony club and prosciutto. She took a day off work to help her husband's campaign by potting a few geraniums in a community garden. To show she was in touch with the common woman she wore jeans and Converse trainers. It must have made a nice change for her from running a company that sells £5000 handbags and £1000 diaries. I don't think her falling pregnant during the election campaign is an accident. A sly trick, worthy of Alan B'Stard I think!
Nick Clegg's mono-browed wife was famously 'too busy' with her own job to support her husband during the election campaign. Hmmm. I think we can all see who wears the fair-trade Jesus sandals in that household, can't we. Now - all you Lib Dems, keep your hemp shirts on, don't get your cheesecloth knickers in a twist, I mean multi-faith Jesus sandals, of course.
On to the debates. The first debate. David Cameron - an oddly waxy and immobile face. I couldn't work out whether it was just too much Max Factor or Botox. Every answer started with:
'I met a black, bi-polar, transgender, homeless nurse from Grimsby this week. She told me that . . . '
Translation: 'Now listen here, people of Britain, I've been out and about talking to common sorts like you. So jolly well do the decent thing and vote for me.'
Click here to find out just who D.C. has been speaking to during his campaign.
As that approach was much mocked after the first debate, D.C. wisely spared us his folksy anecdotes in this week's debate. Instead he tried to woo us with a tie the colour of Cadbury Dairy Milk wrappers and a Rick Astley quiff. I can imagine the discussion at Tory HQ.
'What ho, Dave, this Dairy Milk tie will get totty voting for you, and no mistake. And your Rick Astley hair will appeal to the young 'uns. By jove. I can smell victory. It's in the bag!!!!'
I was expecting many, many irritating references to 'broken Britain' from Mr C during the debates. They never materialised. How odd. No 'broken Britain' quips at all. Do you think someone has gone and fixed Britain while he wasn't looking? Possibly while he was talking to bi-polar lesbians in Hull?
Nick Clegg seemed to want to distance himself from GB and DC. During the debates he kept disparagingly referring to them as as 'these two'. He sounded like some surly, stroppy teenager trying to disassociate himself from embarrassingly square parents at a family wedding.
I am sorry. I just don't get the Nick Clegg hysteria. I was expecting him to come unstuck at the debate on world issues - the Lib Dems are passionately pro-Europe, after all. I think, generally speaking, us Brits are rather suspicious of 'Johnny Foreigner'. Being an island means we are both geographically and culturally separate from Eurpore - plus all those scurrilous Daily Mail articles about how Eurocrats want to outlaw our Yorkshire Puddings and feed our children horse meat school dinners don't help the cause.
One issue that united all three leaders was their fawning adoration of the military. 'Our brave soldiers. . .' They were all at it. Every 5 minutes it was 'our brave soldiers' this and 'Our brave soldiers' that. It was like 'Our brave soldiers' bingo. Sigh.
Anyway. Miss Underscore is supporting Team GB for the election. But, Gordon, if you're reading. A few nuggets of advice for the next debate.
1. Please do not attempt to crack jokes. I am sure you are a very funny man. I am sure you keep Sarah up all night with your smutty limericks and Tommy Cooper impersonations, BUT, so far, the only person who has laughed at your pre-scripted debate quips has been you.
2. Lose your temper a bit, growl, throw your papers around. You are up against two namby-pamby, public school, Southern jessies. Stand up for yourself man!!!
3. Talk about Sarah more. You really are a very sweet and endearing couple.
4. Please don't smile. You look like you should be adorning the cover of a Mencap brochure when you smile. Think Winston Churchill - serious, grave, reliable, stoic. It is a serious business running the country. Let David Cameron do the cheesy Labrador and cashmere sweater Boden-esque photoshoots. He'll need a second career in a few weeks anyway. I have a feeling if the Tories don't win outright there will be a mutiny in the Conservative party and Cameron may well be history.