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Chocs away

Having abstained from much frivolity over the weekend I ventured into Granada this afternoon to view the League Cup final and down a couple of sherbets.

 

Is there any sight more depressing to a Liverpool supporter than Mickey Owen in a Utd shirt? It was enough to make me want to vomit.

 

As it turned out, even more depressing was the sight of him in a Utd shirt and scoring in a cup final. The little twerp.

 

It was enough to make me buy a chocolate pastie on the way home (for those north of the border - a chocolate bridie). Still, 'twas a Euro well spent.

 

It dawned on me as I carb-overloaded on the homeward bus journey that the Scots have missed a trick with the choccy bridie.

 

Surely a deep fried version would fill that empty niche for the discerning drinker who, while still wanting his sugar, monosodium glutamate, E additive and saturated fat fix, is also wanting to cut down on his salt, sawdust, chemical fertiliser and remnant animal body parts quotient intake? It ticks the boxes.

 

It's a bit of a no brainer and if I was still in the UK I'd be sorting out my paperwork for an appearance on Dragon's Den.

 

 

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