| Comment | Oh, here we go again with yer bouncer wisdom, eh? Think ye're a right expert on pubs and clubs, dae ye? Gie's a break! Yer wee theories dinnae mean a thing. Ye talk like every pub's got saints at the door. Pure deluded, if ye ask me!
If the bouncer's a bunnet, it's a clear sign it's a shite place. But dinnae kid yerself, even decent spots can hae bams on the door. Nae need tae act like yer the gatekeeper o' good places!
And whit's this about the bouncer no' bein' at fault if I'm mad wi' it? Ye sound like a broken record. It's just an excuse tae defend the incompetents. If they cannae handle their job, it's on them, simple as that. Dinnae come 'round here defendin' their arses, mate!
So, spare us the righteous talk, 'cause it disnae impress anyone. Yer wee opinions can take a hike! Away 'n let folk speak their minds without yer half-baked judgments! |
|---|