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About Zaragoza

Once, I heard this story—some chick in Vegas got paid in casino chips! True story, swear on my Duff! She’s all, “Cash me out, baby!”—hilarious, right? I’m laughin’, but then—D’oh!—I’m sad again, ‘cause it’s messy, ya know? These gals got lives, and here I am, a doofus, oglin’ ‘em. “Blessed are the forgetful,” I mutter, wishin’ I could zap this night outta my skull like Joel and Clem. Maybe I’ll stick to donuts—safer, cheaper, and Marge won’t kill me! D’oh!

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Oh, and you gotta try the local pintxos. Seriously, they rock worse than a good ol’ Bart Simpson prank – “Eat my shorts!” They’ll make you say, “This is certified cool, Copy!” while you munch away in pure bliss. I swear, sometimes my brain spins – err, like, “Whoa... epic vibes, epic tastes.”

A Seafront Triplex Spans the Top Floors of a Historic Basque Palace