MELBOURNE CUP: Workplace Divorcee Makes Absolute Cunt Of Himself In Corporate Tent

MELBOURNE CUP: Workplace Divorcee Makes Absolute Cunt Of Himself In Corporate Tent

1 November, 2016 13:15


Pat McKlit (divorced, 54) has been heard slurring at the top of his voice as he stumbles towards the Randwick Racecourse fence for race 8, which he can only see on the big screen.

What should have been a pleasant day out for this commercial real estate team, quickly turned ugly when McKlit went another $250 down on the punt and headed back inside the corporate tent to vent his anger on unsuspecting coworkers.

“What are you fucking lookin’ at, Oliver,” he sprays at a sniggering younger colleague.

” I’ve had 30 years in the property game and quite frankly you young pricks can just go fuck yourselves”

“We were just tougher and a lot smarter back in our day. Pull ya fucking head in. You cunts can’t handle your fuckin’ piss either” he roars, while erratically swiping a tray of champagne glasses out of a 17-year-old waitresses hands.

“Ha Ha Ha!” he yells sarcastically.

“You are all so fucking funny!”

Pat McKlit spoke to our journalists while stumbling through the Racecourse in a Tarocash suit, finishing off the dregs of a bottle of Yellowglen.

“I really don’t give a fuck, you know. I’ve done my time babysitting these little arrogant upstart pricks” he confessed in a senseless ramble that left our reporters wondering what might have triggered this drunken tantrum.

“When the market shits itself, they won’t last 2 months. But I’ll be right” he says, while being forcefully removed from the premises through the front gates.

McKlit makes his way outside and the grounds for a bottle water and a cigarette.

“Listen mate, I still stand by what I said, these young blokes just have a sense of entitlement,”

“They expect everything on a silver platter.” he says, while texting his 23 year old live-at-home son to pick him up.

One of the victims of McKlit’s drunken tirade, Mitch Bell (married, 28) also caught up with the Advocate during to give his thoughts on the red-nosed drunk’s antics.

“If a bloke’s success is measured by a divorce, necking a few bottles of Yellowglen in a shitty Tarocash suit with colleagues 30 years younger than me…”

“… Then fuck me where do I sign up?!”