Facepalm. Headdesk. ......migraine.....
These people kill me. I just can't figure out if it's funny, sad, pathetic, deranged, some combination of these or I'm hallucinating.
You know, this is actually quite helpful for me. Every time I feel down on myself, all I have to do is remember these t**ts and tell myself that at least I'm not them.
Tens of thousands of dollars in debt? Pfft, Mammo.
Wasted a Sunday being hungover? Pffft, DoFo.
Self-esteem issues? Pffft, just think of the King Street gimmicky restaurant crew.
I've brought this up before but has anyone asked any of these downtrodden blokes how many people living within 500m they require for their businesses to no longer rely on car-driven custom?
How many? 5000? 10000? An extra Manhattan?
Pro tip: Your business model is shite, clearly, and you'd attract more custom if you looked in a mirror and adapted your business instead of moaning about how we're trying to make this place just a little more logical.
I've never been to Z-Teca but I'm deffo going now. (The Second Cup is a regular stop....I don't even need to go out of my way for them)
I should probably mention that the only place I frequent in that restaurant row is Gabby's. Probably because it's the only not-at-all-pretentious place there and I'm a fake middle class urbanite in a lot of ways in that I'm sort of a bush man and prefer homey places. Anyone know if the proprietor of Gabby's is consorting with the Mammo-DoFo walking rubbish heap?
I'll gladly stick to the Football Factory down the road and around the corner if that were to be the case. You ain't getting my money if you're actively working against my interests.