My mate Joe Chip says: unclean! unclean!
I went to the bank yesterday. I met with the manager. We discussed fixing, we discussed variable, we discussed combinations thereof. Income, servicing, superannuation, insurance, equity.
Why does life have to be like this? I feel so sordid. Will I ever feel clean again? I know that you warned me.
I’ll read Red Son today. Perhaps I will feel better.
Can Kevin save me? A communist and a millionaire. Wow. He can do anything.