Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Eating steak.

The steaks downstairs cost $5 on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. You get salad and a roll with that and you have to cook your own meat. It is cheap and I rarely have lots of money.

But I don't often want the $5 steak. I don't like the whole hotel and pub vibe from downstairs. I don't care if I am not a real man and I really do not want to drink your beer. Hating it!

I don't want to put shoes on and I want to wear my thongs wherever I choose and I don't give a stuff about your dress code.

I don't want your $5 steak and I don't want your beady eyed barmaids and your uptight overseas workers and their angry faces. I can't always understand the accents and I say so.

You can shove your $5 steak up your a*s and then maybe I will throw you on the barbeque for looking too closely at the vacancy book. Studying it ... perhaps I shall be thrown out on the street. And perhaps I will barbeque your pansified face on the hot plate and charge $5 for every slice to the general public.

I don't want your $5 steak ....... bore someone else with your 'specials'. It could cost $1000 a steak and I would still feel the same. I HATE YOU!

God bless.

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