Max Brenner, St Michael’s, Manchester Superiority and Majan

Tress and I started going to Max Brenner’s about a month and a half ago. We never thought of going to this place, until we heard of how rubbish groups like Socialist Alternative and Justice for Palestinians started spouting anti-Semitic thrash. See this story.


What a night of north England showing London how to play football. After Manchester City rolled Spurs over with a 5-1 thrashing, which I watched just the first half, it was great to wake up to an 8-2 victory over a troubled Arsenal. Newcastle got into the act as well, beating Fulham.

This is unusual for me to say but I feel sorry for Arsenal and Wenger at this point in time. Their stable has been raided and the players Wenger nurtured into brilliant play makers are now happy to deliver their services elsewhere for a range of reasons, not least money.


Yesterday Tress and I went to a hairdresser down the street from our home. Majan Mahani had done Kiddo’s hair less than a couple of months ago (for her formal) and I needed a hairie badly so we (especially I) decided to go with Majan. She is a lovely Iranian, described herself as Persian, and was a bit more talkative than other who have worked on my hair before. It was the first time I ever had any Persian person work on my hair. She was also very polite. When she was done with me, she held up a mirror behind my head and asked me if I was happy. I asked if I looked like Tom Cruise now and she went all quiet. She must have struggled between being polite and being honest but Tress rescued her by letting a loud burst of laughter and Majan acquitted herself by saying most of her (surely middle aged) clients preferred to look like George Clooney.


Sat we drove Kiddo to St Michael’s Grammar School in St Kilda East. For the entire ride to and from the school, which was easily half an hour each way, she and her friend Charlotte spoke in what sounded like Greek but was surely English. Their dissertation of various English Literature themes and writers thrilled me. At some point, I wanted to interject and ask “Which character did Brad Pitt play?”, but decided to stay silent and look a little more sophisticated. The VCE English Literature lectures there was from 9-3 and in between, I went to the MST library, did some shopping, took Tress to Madam Kwong’s in Box Hill and …

It was that sort of weekend…