'How are you?'
How am I? How am I? How do you think I am? I know in the Before Times the tradition was to reply, 'I'm fine, thanks.' Then you would ask how they were, and they would reply, 'I'm fine, thanks.' And then we would all get on with our lives. But I can't play my part in that pantomime anymore. I cannot say, 'I am fine, thanks,' because-spoilers-I am not fine, thanks.
What do you get when a housebound comedian is left with no option but to make comedy using only a rampant washing machine, a lot of Vaseline (it's for the pipes-no not that pipe), a roast chook and an unused exercise bike to keep him company? You get I Am NOT Fine, Thanks.
From prime ministers who don't hold a hose to billionaires who think they're astronauts to people who think lizards are ruling the country and that thermometers are wiping your memory, it's abundantly clear that the world is going to hell.
In I Am NOT Fine, Thanks Wil Anderson uses his iconic dry humour to soothe the sting of the last few years-laughter is the best medicine, after all (or is it apple cider vinegar?). Part memoir, part manifesto and all comedy, this is a book that will both make your every frustration feel heard and show you that there is plenty to hope for.
