A sobconcious continuation (infatuation)

I was sitting on the train, autonomously feeding maccas chips into my mouth 3 or 4 at a time (I wasn't actually hungry. I just knew that if I hadn't have bought maccas for lunch I would've had to spend 5 minutes at home microwaving a pie) then drinking a mouthful of my extra special caramel milkshake (I usually just have coke, but I spoiled myself today! I just blitzed my bio exam, so I deserved it.) before I'd even had a chance to swallow the blob of faux potato, the combination forming a salty-sweet mush in the back of my mouth. Wiping the excess salt and grease off on my new $90 trackies (they're comfy. I might buy another pair in black) before I changed the song on my iPhone (God forbid I get a slimy screen) discarding song after song until I found a self indulgent ballad of first world depression. It was at this point I sat back and said to myself,
All this waste, the excess consumption... All this want and reckless desire... All this work for useless purchase. This is the height of capitalism. This is the epitome of consumerism. And I love them both.


As a side note, I'd just like to say, I had no intention of writing about capitalism straight after a communist rant. It just happened that way. Hence the title.


On a completely different note, I have, as of today, moved up an echelon in the rebel ranks. "How?!?!" you might ask? "You? Shane? A rebel? Ha! I would sooner expect to see a flying tortoise with mighty claws carrying the carcass of a halal butchered lamb directly into the sun!" You might conject. Well, one Matthew McCarthy aka Uncle Tongs (I prefer using Uncle over Crucible ever since his recent D.I.D post. Just sounds cooler [I also prefer writing in brackets because I already over use commas{In case you hadn't noticed}]) planted the seed in my mind. So I blame him for all legal ramifications.
Anyways, as I got off the train at Box Hill shortly after my yummy money insight (see above), there were 3 cops on the platform. That's right, my rebellion involves police officers. I, like everyone, had a natural curiousity as to what the hell they were doing, which turned out to be nothing as far as I could tell. So as everyone crowded on to the escalator, I stood on the left cause I could not be ballsed walking on the right. Let me encapsulate the scene for you. At the moment, two cops were above me on the escalator, and one was still below me walking up the escalator on my right. On one of the officers higher up on the escalator, I saw his service sidearm. Aka, a gun. This is what reminded me of Monsiuer Tongs challenge.
I remembered him saying something about the ultimate act of rebellion being to touch a police officers gun... Now I know the conclusion you've probably jumped to, and I'm not that stupid. After all, the gun is holstered on the police officers right, and I was on his left so reaching around to touch the hallowed death-bringer and retaining enough subtlety to avoid suspicion when surrounded by onlookers whose eyes were focused on the out-of-place police officers would have been suicide. Luckily for me, however, his taser gun was holstered on his left leg. So I listened carefully, hearing each heavy footstep policeman made in his heavy, steel capped boots.... Closer.... Closer... Closer... Almost... Then just as he's about to pass by me, I extend my hand just as if I was flexing a cramp out and BAM! I touched the handle and, somehow, the trigger of his taser gun without him noticing. Please update me to Mega-Ultimate Rebelmon, good sirs and madams.

Just in case you were wondering, this is about 95% true. The untrue parts are the pre-meditation and the act of me actively extending my hand. In other words, his taser gun bumped my hand as he bumbled past and I created this story in retrospect. But still, I have rebellious retrospect! That's gotta count for something, yeah?

.... I'll be quiet now.