Got to get to Greggs. . .

So, it was with some trepidation that I settled down to watch the final leaders' debate. Would GB have any fight left in him? Would Clem-Cam, the two public school boys, gang up on our weary and beleaguered PM and give him a 'jolly good thrashing'. I am convinced, by the way, that in the event of a hung parliament, Clegg and Cameron will end up in bed together, thereby forming the most bland and talentless alliance since Jedward.

My thoughts on the debate. Firstly, let me deal with Nick Clegg. Am I the only one who found him insufferably smug and sanctimonious? My objections.

• His perpetual eye-rolling, sighing and head-shaking whenever his opponents spoke. This was usually followed by some snippy comment like 'see. . . these two, they're at it again, no wonder people are fed-up with politics, it's just political point scoring'. Well, Mr Clegg, isn't that the whole raison d'etre of a debate? To challenge your opponents? To hopefully 'score points'. Of course, you weren't wanting to score any 'political points' with your 'holier than thou' attitude were you? Honestly. Fucking Lib Dems - that is what infuriates me about them, they love themselves so much they make themselves mix tapes.

• Even Clegg's tie pissed me off. During the last debate it was gold and shiny. This week it was red and shiny. Where does he get his ties, Quality Street? Whilst on the subject of the banal, to emphasise his points Clegg does have a tendency to use 'jazz hands'. There were times during the debate, whilst being razzle-dazzled by Clegg's disco tie and 'Bob Fosse' hands, that I wondered whether Hetty was chewing the remote again and had inadvertently switched us over to Channel 4 and 'Glee'.

• Clegg also oozes the smarmy, unctuous charm of an up-market tele-sales operative. If, for example, a question was asked by Gertrude from Grimsby, then Clegg would make sure he mentioned Gertrude's name at least 73 times, in a 'look at me, I'm a nice guy' kind of a way. Those of us who have had the unfortunate experience of working in a call centre know, lesson 101 is always 'use the customer's name.'

On to David Cameron. A moment that made me gasp with outrage was when he was asked a question by a teacher. Now, Cameron does bang on a lot about 'supporting' teachers. He is always bleating on about giving us 'extra powers' in the classroom. I wonder what these mysterious 'extra powers' will be. Will they be super-powers, do you think? How thrilling! If so, I would like Superman's x-ray vision, Spiderman's agility and Catwoman's arse please, Mr Cameron!

I can't remember what exactly my fellow teacher's question was, but it was something about working in schools in disadvantaged areas. A question that was certainly relevant to me. Cameron leapt straight in, like a fanny-rat up a drainpipe.

'Can I say straight away 'thank you' for doing the job you do. Teachers really do the most amazing and important job. I am absolutely in awe of teachers. Thank you so much. I want you to know that I want to support you, I want to raise your profile, I want to raise your status, I want to reward you, I want to . . . ' yadda, yadda, yadda.

There was one teeny, tiny, minute, miniscule, little thing he forgot to mention in his pedagogical love-fest about teachers, namely, how he is freezing all of our salaries. Funny that, isn't it? Must have slipped his mind, maybe he was distracted by Nick Clegg's jazz-hands.

I see Gordon was in my home-town of Sunderland yesterday. I didn't realise. I would have gone to see him. I am feeling so sorry for him. I just want to give him a hug. I can't help but think he is like an old, tired and gnarly dog in a rescue centre. Nobody wants him. Everyone walks past his kennel, everyone is looking for a fucking Andrex puppy.

I was perplexed as to why Gordon would visit Sunderland's National Glass Centre though. I would have thought the objective of any visit was to expose him to large crowds of people. That way he would look popular. The National Glass Centre is Sunderland's own 'Millennium Dome'. It is a white elephant that was built at huge expense. It only attracts 17 visitors per year (and 11 of those are pensioners on a toilet stop'). No, if Gordon really wanted to be exposed to the people of Sunderland then there was only one possible venue. I speak not of the Stadium of Light. I speak not of Nissan. No, I speak, of course, of Greggs. (We have an ancient by-law, you see, that requires all residents of Sunderland to carry a pasty at all times when out 'in toon'.)

So. I am now fearful of a Tory win on Thursday. Back to 2 year waiting lists on the NHS for hip replacements ( I am now a mere 16 days away from hitting 40, so hip replacements are very much on my mind), back to fox hunting and cash-starved public services. Even The Times has turned its back on Labour, and is now supporting the Conservatives. The Guardian is backing the Lib Dems. It is all so utterly depressing.