I'll blog sensibly on the Conference from home tomorrow, including a careful consideration of Day 2, which is when this happened, but for now let me just recover from my shock at kicking off my modeling career, on Page 2 of the Sun.
At least it wasn't Page 3.
And in any case, this being the start of something promising - I have the tits to be a model if nothing else - I have three aims to come from this:
I want Pete Doherty's phone number.
I want to switch on at least one town's Christmas lights this year.
I want to appear on next year's Strictly Come Dancing. I could at least get through an American Smooth without dropping Ola Jordan.