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They may take our lives...


pero jamás nos quitarán la libertad!


I spent the day in La Zubia prior to moving my stuff into the new apartment. I wanted to get a feel for the place, have a wander about, and suss out the bus routes etc. Inevitably I went into the William Wallace for a bit of lunchtime tapas.


I am proud to say that I did my fellow Scots proud and ordered a rather ambitious sounding Harmburguesas William Wallace to go with my second glass of wine. It felt good to play my own small part in reinforcing the globally held view that us Scots are brought up on a diet of lard, fat, lard, alcohol, sugar, ciggies and fat.


When it arrived the layering of the burger appeared as follows:

(from the bottom up)




some kind of mayo






a fried egg



Obviously, taking on so much lettuce at lunchtime was a struggle but in true Wallace style I just got on with it. The two rather fey yet delicious free tapas I had downed beforehand slightly took the edge off proceedings and somehow made this magnificent culinary gut fest taste not quite as good as it ought. I put it down to being out of practice and to being too exposed to all this foreign muck.


Still, when I had finished the gourmet dish and made my first attempt at bipedal movement I discovered with much satisfaction that a layer of  congealed saturated fats had set into concrete from my legs upwards. A job well done then.


To appease my Scouse and English leanings I rounded things off with a nice pot of tea and gave consideration to doing a runner. The genius of the Hamburguesa however was to render any sudden movements impossible. A magnificent tribute to the great man. And some say he died in vain.


What greater legacy could he have hoped for as Longshanks prepared to rip his belly out on the scaffold all those years ago?


Mel Gibson my ass.


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