‘The bones of your arse’

I get asked how I’m doing. Ok I say. I’ll be honest. I’ve got money in the bank. We’re living on it.

My circumstances are not that interesting.

But given we’re promoting a record right in the middle of the greatest economic disaster since the Great Depression, I’m getting asked ‘how I am’…

a lot….

which is fairly ludicrous really, given there have got to be thousands out there who aren’t being asked that same question

who are on the bones of their collective arse!

Suffering. Greatly..

Not because they’re sick but because they’ve got no friggin’ cash!

Real food stress. It’s that serious. Not that far from where I live..

Which is worth thinking about..

It’s pretty hard to gauge how the nation is really doing unless you go knocking on doors asking..

“How are you?”

Which would be a breach of the level 3.

See the thing about Lockdown is what’s hidden. There just aren’t a lot of punters out there.

Dare I say.. begging is also a breach of level 3..

Still, no one’s storming parliament carrying semi-automatic weapons.. or burning down woollies..

We’re an obedient lot. And thank fuck for that.

We’re also proud. We don’t whinge.. (except on facebook)

But as we climb out of the hole we’re in..

It bears pondering your situation:

As opposed to mine..

So…how are you?