Friday 1 February 2013

Rule No. 76 - No Excuses, Play Like A Champion.

Did you know that less than 1% of people are celiac?

Fucking fascinating that they all simultaneously seat themselves in my restaurant at quarter past 8 on a Friday night.

You know the people. The steak well done, no salt, dressing on the side, split onto two plates,  gluten free cunts.

No. You're just fat and looking for an excuse to eat a pizza without the guilt. I saw you sneak a pretzel off the table when your date was in the bathroom.

I was fat once. Now I'm not. You know what I did?

I got on the fucking treadmill and I put down the fork. I didn't sit in front of Deal or No Deal re-runs shovelling down a packet of gluten-free doughnuts like a Mammuthus primigenius (more commonly known as a woolly mammoth, or 'Manfred from Ice Age') in preparation for hibernation.

You insufferable armpits are shitting on the flow of service like a hungover Mexican and on the hope that an ACTUAL gluten free person can state who they are without the chef going : "Oh really mate? Yeah well suck me off cos I'm Wonder Woman!" (This is usually closely followed by a tea towel headband and checks turned into short shorts for a highly immature yet hilarious Linda Carter impersonation.

But at the end of the day, I would be more sympathetic if it wasn't for one simple thing.

Why do all of Melbourne's celiacs have a mansion in Toorak?

I've never seen a gluten free homeless guy... Just saying.

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