My Manifesto: The Incoherent Ramblings of a Madman

It's been one of those weeks where I just don't feel right. Everytime I get up a sweat my glands seem to swell up under my chin...I've talked myself into having glandular fever I think...but for all I know it could merely be the usual thing that the glands do, that is, swell up because they're erm sweat glands.

I've got myself an mp3 player - now I'm on the struggle to cut back the amount of songs I have ready to put onto it. With the limitations of 120 or so songs - it makes it damn difficult to decide what is worthy and what is not. Although I'm still just buzzing due to the affect of my slightly more looked into but essentially impulse buy - it is really good. When running along to my tunes I can run faster, look stupider, and feel "eye of the tiger" pulse through my veins and not give a shit what the rest of the world is doing because I cannot hear them anyway!

I've never had the ability to run and listen to music at the same time before. Sure there were always portable cd players or walkmans - but were they ever really able to be carried with you as you ran. I guess if you're 80 years old and your idea of running is walking down the stairs to get the mail from the letterbox once a day, then maybe, but for me? Hell no. They've always sort of been like a pocket dictionary or a waterproof watch - all modern day myths. But an mp3 player is a different story altogether.

I cannot wait for next week when the thrill will have inevitably worn off and I will be here complaining how stupid my purchase was - because a) I didn't really need it; and b) there's a better one on the market already.

Thanks to all of these "race riots" on tv, which were really no more than the usual friday night fights outside the pub until the media suddenly turned a slow news day into a "riot" and encouraged people to turn up to wreak havoc. Suddenly everyone is an expert on Cronulla, Western Sydney, the Bra Boys, and Lebanese gangs. I have been delighting in talking down the lebs to people saying how dodgy they all are in sarcastic tone to be agreed with by people - something I quickly follow with: "I have lebanese heritage" with them either quickly squirming to try and apologize for their comments - either that or challenge my claim. Really I'm about as lebanese as Hitler was Aryan - but I was brought up on some lebanese dishes from an old family recipe that my mother got out of the Australian Women's Weekly cookbook.

"Racism sux" it says on the tv glowing in the background - I had no idea that racism was so dirty in bed. I think i could see me getting some of that racism action. Let's face it - if you can't beat them you may as well join them. Either that or kill the fuckers. However, the last time someone tried to kill an entire nation of racists Zimbabwe got kicked out of the commonwealth as punishment. Maybe an eye for an eye isn't the answer after all? Maybe we should just realise that the surfie fuckups just need to be loved by a lebanese gang member and they can live in oral harmony.