MY GORDON, MY HUSBAND, MY HERO

Well, what a sickening carry on.

Mr Brown promised us a couple of years ago that he would never use his family for political gain. This was around the time when Cameron was showing videos of his family around the breakfast table and him doing the washing up in an attempt to demonstrate to the world that Eton Toffs know that dishes don’t just wash themselves.

So, having broken that promise last year when Mrs Brown came out on stage and introduced him (somewhat sentimentally) at the Labour Party Conference (in case some there didn’t know who he was), Mr Brown broke his promise and trotted her out again this year. (I suppose there could still be people who don’t know who he is.)

She talked about them being together for nine years; she talked about good times and bad that they’d had; she told us she knew he loved our country, whatever that is.

She actually had the cheek to say to the foregathered that she knew he would always put Labour Supporters first... No, I’m not joking. So that means that around 75% of us will always come second. Nice one Mrs Brown.... Didn’t you used to be in PR?

One of the things that she appreciated was the fact that being married to Gordon; “ many of you have invited us into your homes and workplaces and the hearts of your local communities.” Yes, that’s how it was when she went door knocking in Glenrothes. Invited in to carefully selected people’s houses in case she got the door slammed in her face doing ordinary canvassing like other party workers.

She dribbled a load of sentimental rubbish about being glad that it was her Gordon who had the job of Prime Minister because she’d seen what the job was like close up. Like she was some great expert on being prime minister.....

“Because we've been together so long, I know he's not a saint. He's messy. He's noisy. He gets up at a terrible hour. But I know he wakes up every morning and goes to bed every evening thinking about the things that matter.”

He's not a saint? Well, we knew that. He's devious and self serving. He's messy? Yep, all these Nokias and bits of occassional furniture must take a lot of clearing up, and I guess the sound of phone hitting wall must disturb the concentration required for a serious bit of twittering. And I wish he’d do more than just get up and go to bed thinking about these things that matter Mrs Brown. I wish he’d think about them in between....and bloody well do something about them.

All in all it was a completely sickening performance. Thank Goodness it will be his, and her, last.