Dear Comrades, I’m trying to write this email to youse all whilst my body is gripped by pain. I was killed in the right hip yesterday whilst swimming by some kid, and shit did it hurt. So on top of the normal daily pain that I have to put up with, I’ve developed bursitis in both hips and of course it’s worse in the right hip and of course the kid kicked me right on the area of the bursitis, the little prick. So I’ve been placing heat packs and ice-packs on it to help numb the pain. I’m also stoned off my face on the Endone and Oxycontine and sipping on a glass of red wine, which I might ditch for either a brandy or a port, perhaps a port or Muscat. Oh fuck it all I’m sick of talking about it all. I suppose it’s good therapy, but I just hate talking or writing about it because it demands so much of my time.
Mean while in Adelaide the Crows have to find a new coach after poor Phil Walsh was murdered (allegedly) by his son in a family violence situation. It just goes to show that family violence (domestic violence) can touch any family. It’s not limited to socio-economic background.