There was a moment earlier this week where I thought about buying a copy of The Barefoot Investor.
I thought maybe if I just got smart about money and savings and labelling my bank cards, I would be able to ride the wave of this whole cost-of-living crisis/rental crisis/$7-for-a-bag-of-chips crisis and come out the other end the kind of smug person who talks about having an 'emergency fund'.
And then I realised I can't afford to buy a book in this economy!
That's like three bags of $7 chips!
There's another much faster, more sensible way to have more money, and that's the reality-TV-contestant-to-teeth-whitening-sponsorship-to-national-radio-show pipeline.
All I have to do is place my future completely in John Aiken's hands, marry a stranger on TV, maybe do a cheat and be hated by the entire nation, get at least three months' coverage on the Daily Mail and the world is my oyster.
As the meerkat said on that ad in the late 2000s: Simples!
I open the application and the first thing I see is this disclaimer:
PLEASE SUBMIT GENUINE APPLICATIONS ONLY.
Ok, they're onto me.
One of the first questions they ask me is how tall am I and how much I weigh. WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, JOHN AIKEN, WORK OUT MY BMI?
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