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"Migrants from the Middle East and North Africa are also three times more likely than European or Asian immigrants to be out of work in the first five years of settlement. And their 33 per cent jobless rate is six times higher than the national average."
I have umm'd and ahhh'd about sharing this post. The bigger my audience got the more protective I've become about my private world and it's one thing sharing a picture of yourself in your undies but another thing entirely to let the world know what's really going on with you.
But I felt compelled to spew this into my keyboard this morning.
I'm fine now, I'm actually really good, I've had a friend over for a cup of tea.
But things aren't smooth sailing in my marriage these days and my kids first day at School wasn't exactly a highlight. 😨
Ps the school is incredible, like one of the best I have seen, my shittness today is no reflection of them. 💗
Where the bloody hell did that go? I had desires to do those milestone card photos with every exciting thing that happened. But yeah, then I didn't. On a positive note, I have filmed my birth vlog. It only took 5 weeks. The editing process and uploading may take another 5 at this rate. Sorry... not.
Valentine’s Day used to represent the Hall-water-Mark of consumerism. A day when the wave of pointless spending crashed on the shore of forced sentiment and girls got some flowers and guys got their dicks gobbled like the cookie monster at morning tea.
That fuckery was bad enough, but now Valentine’s Day is a social media decathlon of rubbing your receipt-backed love in other bitches faces #stickthatinyourunlovedface. If love be a competition then Chrissy plans to win and be adorned in more gold than Cuntsain Bolt.
The first event is breakfast in bed. Dan had better get up 40 minutes early and whip up an Instagrammable acai bowl with a fresh smoothie if he wants his little dick raised like evidence at a Church Royal Commission. She posts at 6:45am:
“O.M.G YASSSS breakfast in bed, feeling so spoiled by my love #love #valentinesday #lucky #jelly? #notalone #happy #sheisloved #inlove #bae”.
Just like Anthony Mundine, Chrissy sucker punched early and forms a steady lead. The next event, is her mention in The West Australian's Book of Love.
Oh shit, Dan has cheaped out and only expressed his love in 2 lines! She has 13k followers on Instagram, she deserves 3 lines. On a scale 1 to Tom Cruise jumping on the couch like a fucking psycho, 2 lines is a god damned 0.
Chrissy cries in the office toilet until a workmate comes in and tells her there is a delivery for her. Boom, she has burst into the 3rd event swinging: her bouquet, chocolate and teddy bear package is huge. She posts:
“The day just keeps getting better :P Feeling the love! #lindt #roses #loveisintheair #cute #helovesme #lovewins #followme #sizematters”
Size does matter. In fact, it’s not representative of the love towards her, rather the size of the gaping hole of insecurity she feels in her relationship. Nevermind that, she is winning. Over 100 likes so far. Yassss.
Crissy is feeling good coming into the final event: the Valentine’s Day dinner. Poor old Dan really destroyed his credit card and arranged dinner at Nobu after taking Chrissy to their Crown Tower’s hotel room complete with a bed covered in roses and a Tiffany’s box. “Uh will you like marry me babe?”
Shit’s so cliche a James Blunt concert might break out. After obsessively checking out all her rivals posts she lands the deathblow of love:
“You know you have found the one when he treats you to Crown Towers, Nobu and Tiffanys! LOVE IS IN THE AIR. I SAID YES! #tiffanys #nobu #crowntowers #love #ineedconstantproofoflove #whoneedsthebachelor #lovequeen #blessed #poppedthequestion”
Despite Dan spending 1000’s, she somehow makes “being in love” look as appealing as getting waterboarded to the sounds of Waleed’s monologues.