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Decimus

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Having a birthday in January is shit enough without some pretentious wanker raising my blood pressure, but after perusing the online lunch menu of the establishment Mrs D. is taking me to today, I find myself fucking enraged.

I'll set the scene first. I'm talking about a pub in Cromer, a nice pub, and fairly upmarket, but still just a pub. In fucking Cromer. Anyway, my temple started twitching in anger as soon as I saw that the website menu had an introduction from the chef, mainly talking about how fantastic and "innovative he is". At this stage, I'm already convinced he's a cunt and have decided to tell Mrs. D to find somewhere else. The deal was sealed when I checked out the steak options, and each separate cut will only be cooked in the way the chef recommends. Sirloin will be served "pink" and rib-eye will never be served pink, but at all times will be prepared "medium to well-done".

Who does this prick think he is? He's cooking cheap meat in a shitty pub kitchen, not preparing finest wagyu beef at fucking Claridges. I'm a fully grown man and I know what I like and I demand to have the choice to have a steak cooked however the fuck I want it cooked.

Shove it up your arse, Jerome, you self-aggrandising little cunt.

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3 minutes ago, Decimus said:

I'll be wearing a carnation and Mrs D. will be sporting a black eye.

Luckily, "Dog's are welcome!", although I wouldn't personally take one to an establishment that included an apostrophe in the sentence advertising that fact.

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1 hour ago, Decimus said:

Having a birthday in January is shit enough without some pretentious wanker raising my blood pressure, but after perusing the online lunch menu of the establishment Mrs D. is taking me to today, I find myself fucking enraged.

I'll set the scene first. I'm talking about a pub in Cromer, a nice pub, and fairly upmarket, but still just a pub. In fucking Cromer. Anyway, my temple started twitching in anger as soon as I saw that the website menu had an introduction from the chef, mainly talking about how fantastic and "innovative he is". At this stage, I'm already convinced he's a cunt and have decided to tell Mrs. D to find somewhere else. The deal was sealed when I checked out the steak options, and each separate cut will only be cooked in the way the chef recommends. Sirloin will be served "pink" and rib-eye will never be served pink, but at all times will be prepared "medium to well-done".

Who does this prick think he is? He's cooking cheap meat in a shitty pub kitchen, not preparing finest wagyu beef at fucking Claridges. I'm a fully grown man and I know what I like and I demand to have the choice to have a steak cooked however the fuck I want it cooked.

Shove it up your arse, Jerome, you self-aggrandising little cunt.

Rip off restaurants in general, I do like taking a girl up the OXO tower, however i digress, I once visited the oxo tower restaurant, having not eaten breakfast I was Hank Marvin, anyway went for the pork belly, imagining the lump of cheap fatty meat with crackling heading my way. When served it was the size of a matchbox with a silly offering of crackling perched on top. The master chef had dribbled some shit around the fancy plate and that was it. Fucking disgrace, hence a burger from the tea hut in Blackheath on the way home.

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2 hours ago, Decimus said:

Having a birthday in January is shit enough without some pretentious wanker raising my blood pressure, but after perusing the online lunch menu of the establishment Mrs D. is taking me to today, I find myself fucking enraged.

I'll set the scene first. I'm talking about a pub in Cromer, a nice pub, and fairly upmarket, but still just a pub. In fucking Cromer. Anyway, my temple started twitching in anger as soon as I saw that the website menu had an introduction from the chef, mainly talking about how fantastic and "innovative he is". At this stage, I'm already convinced he's a cunt and have decided to tell Mrs. D to find somewhere else. The deal was sealed when I checked out the steak options, and each separate cut will only be cooked in the way the chef recommends. Sirloin will be served "pink" and rib-eye will never be served pink, but at all times will be prepared "medium to well-done".

Who does this prick think he is? He's cooking cheap meat in a shitty pub kitchen, not preparing finest wagyu beef at fucking Claridges. I'm a fully grown man and I know what I like and I demand to have the choice to have a steak cooked however the fuck I want it cooked.

Shove it up your arse, Jerome, you self-aggrandising little cunt.

Is the chief French? They often "tell" people how to chose their steak option by waving a cleaver in the craniosacral region. Fuck them. You have every right to have it blended, if preferred so.

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1 minute ago, White Cunt said:

Is the chief French? They often "tell" people how to chose their steak option by waving a cleaver in the craniosacral region. Fuck them. You have every right to have it blended, if preferred so.

If he’s French he’s more likely to be found waving his cock around in the mens rear end region. I wouldn’t put anything the filthy cunt had cooked in my mouth.

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2 hours ago, Decimus said:

Having a birthday in January is shit enough without some pretentious wanker raising my blood pressure, but after perusing the online lunch menu of the establishment Mrs D. is taking me to today, I find myself fucking enraged.

I'll set the scene first. I'm talking about a pub in Cromer, a nice pub, and fairly upmarket, but still just a pub. In fucking Cromer. Anyway, my temple started twitching in anger as soon as I saw that the website menu had an introduction from the chef, mainly talking about how fantastic and "innovative he is". At this stage, I'm already convinced he's a cunt and have decided to tell Mrs. D to find somewhere else. The deal was sealed when I checked out the steak options, and each separate cut will only be cooked in the way the chef recommends. Sirloin will be served "pink" and rib-eye will never be served pink, but at all times will be prepared "medium to well-done".

Who does this prick think he is? He's cooking cheap meat in a shitty pub kitchen, not preparing finest wagyu beef at fucking Claridges. I'm a fully grown man and I know what I like and I demand to have the choice to have a steak cooked however the fuck I want it cooked.

Shove it up your arse, Jerome, you self-aggrandising little cunt.

Sounds like a divorce is on the cards if she’s taking you to The Red Lion. They have fish fingers on the menu for fucks sake. Call in for a stick of rock and wave it at her menacingly on the way home is my advice. 

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4 hours ago, King Billy said:

If he’s French he’s more likely to be found waving his cock around in the men's rear end region. I wouldn’t put anything the filthy cunt had cooked in my mouth.

The sous-chef is from Pakistan. I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but it will probably be construed as racist despite being infinitely better than being French.

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I think Decs should be fucking grateful that his other half took him to a half decent pub,if I was married to the cunt he'd be lucky if he got left over chips and a sachet of ketchup.Happy Birthday you naaaaarfuk toss pot.

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On 04/01/2020 at 10:48, Decimus said:

Having a birthday in January is shit enough without some pretentious wanker raising my blood pressure, but after perusing the online lunch menu of the establishment Mrs D. is taking me to today, I find myself fucking enraged.

I'll set the scene first. I'm talking about a pub in Cromer, a nice pub, and fairly upmarket, but still just a pub. In fucking Cromer. Anyway, my temple started twitching in anger as soon as I saw that the website menu had an introduction from the chef, mainly talking about how fantastic and "innovative he is". At this stage, I'm already convinced he's a cunt and have decided to tell Mrs. D to find somewhere else. The deal was sealed when I checked out the steak options, and each separate cut will only be cooked in the way the chef recommends. Sirloin will be served "pink" and rib-eye will never be served pink, but at all times will be prepared "medium to well-done".

Who does this prick think he is? He's cooking cheap meat in a shitty pub kitchen, not preparing finest wagyu beef at fucking Claridges. I'm a fully grown man and I know what I like and I demand to have the choice to have a steak cooked however the fuck I want it cooked.

Shove it up your arse, Jerome, you self-aggrandising little cunt.

I feel the same when Mohamed does me a pink rare Big Mac and fries.  He’s such a pretentious cunt.

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Guest judgetwi
On 04/01/2020 at 10:48, Decimus said:

Having a birthday in January is shit enough without some pretentious wanker raising my blood pressure, but after perusing the online lunch menu of the establishment Mrs D. is taking me to today, I find myself fucking enraged.

I'll set the scene first. I'm talking about a pub in Cromer, a nice pub, and fairly upmarket, but still just a pub. In fucking Cromer. Anyway, my temple started twitching in anger as soon as I saw that the website menu had an introduction from the chef, mainly talking about how fantastic and "innovative he is". At this stage, I'm already convinced he's a cunt and have decided to tell Mrs. D to find somewhere else. The deal was sealed when I checked out the steak options, and each separate cut will only be cooked in the way the chef recommends. Sirloin will be served "pink" and rib-eye will never be served pink, but at all times will be prepared "medium to well-done".

Who does this prick think he is? He's cooking cheap meat in a shitty pub kitchen, not preparing finest wagyu beef at fucking Claridges. I'm a fully grown man and I know what I like and I demand to have the choice to have a steak cooked however the fuck I want it cooked.

Shove it up your arse, Jerome, you self-aggrandising little cunt.

I was going to tell you about how I fucked Holly Willoughby, or however you spell it, on Saturday but it’s so long ago i’ve forgotten about it. 😁

Edited by Mrs Roops
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On 04/01/2020 at 10:48, Decimus said:

Having a birthday in January is shit enough without some pretentious wanker raising my blood pressure, but after perusing the online lunch menu of the establishment Mrs D. is taking me to today, I find myself fucking enraged.

I'll set the scene first. I'm talking about a pub in Cromer, a nice pub, and fairly upmarket, but still just a pub. In fucking Cromer. Anyway, my temple started twitching in anger as soon as I saw that the website menu had an introduction from the chef, mainly talking about how fantastic and "innovative he is". At this stage, I'm already convinced he's a cunt and have decided to tell Mrs. D to find somewhere else. The deal was sealed when I checked out the steak options, and each separate cut will only be cooked in the way the chef recommends. Sirloin will be served "pink" and rib-eye will never be served pink, but at all times will be prepared "medium to well-done".

Who does this prick think he is? He's cooking cheap meat in a shitty pub kitchen, not preparing finest wagyu beef at fucking Claridges. I'm a fully grown man and I know what I like and I demand to have the choice to have a steak cooked however the fuck I want it cooked.

Shove it up your arse, Jerome, you self-aggrandising little cunt.

When in Cromer it’s Crab.

Beef is always served rare.

Edited by Mrs Roops
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2 hours ago, Earl of Punkape said:

Why didn’t you order crab in Cromer ? 
It’s famous for crab and you go to a faggoty pub and complain about the beef on offer.

Where did I say I ordered beef off the menu?

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