every Starbucks should have a polar bear (scoradh) wrote,
every Starbucks should have a polar bear

England beat Sweden, and Tobago tied with Trinidad

It turns out that my village is a hot bed for top-notch scandal and impropriety of all kinds. Strippers were hired from Cork for a thirtieth birthday party in one pub; the rather squiffy young blades from that party thought that a double twenty-first (being  held in my aunt's pub) deserved a slice of the action, and trundled them down there. Now, as this is Ireland, there were tonnes of kids about the place -- all of whom thought this turn of events diverting in the extreme. My aunt recounted the reaction of one of the old, welly-bedecked farmers who's a regular in my aunt's pub -- he came out of the toilets to find these naked women gyrating around a pole and stood stock still watching them for fifteen minutes. It probably constitutes the most sexual action he's had since he was weaned.

For some reason, I don't approve of hiring strippers. I know strippers will exist whether hired out to my village or not -- and also that this is hugely hypocritical coming from someone who reads and writes porn voraciously -- but it just seems like they're taking advantage of these women's misfortune. Everyone knows that most strippers and lapdancers in Ireland have been 'imported' and 'sold' from Eastern European countries like so much cattle. Well ... everyone outside my village, that is. It's not certain that they've registered much since the end of the Civil War.

The other tawdry gossip concerned my cousin and his friend Declan, who bartend at my aunt's pub. Declan is eighteen and the gayest boy you could ever meet, pretty as a picture and dumb as a rock. He is straight -- straight enough to be carrying on an affair with a married woman who has children in high school! This weekend just passed he took himself off to stay over at this woman's house, bringing my (sixteen year old) cousin with him. His mother is raging and Declan has been warned not to go near her if he values his life. Not, as my parents and I agreed, that my cousin would have required much urging. It wouldn't surprise me if it came out that they'd held a bondage threesome.

It's an ill wind that blows no good, though. As a result of these goings-on, my mother has acceded that spending a day in town to download 'comics' is not the most depraved activity in which one could engage. I'm sitting here with my download manager purring, perched on a wicker bar stool in the town's answer to an internet cafe. It's a quaint little place. The owner has all the fixtures for Cork FC printed out and stuck on the wall; each played game has been carefully ticked off. There are four clocks on the wall showing the time in Beijing, Los Angeles, Paris and the town -- but not on those fancy digital displays, but on cheap plastic clocks with blue rims that have been hand-wound to the particular time. My back is already killing me, but such are the vissicitudes of life. Hopefully it will be worth it.

In fandom news, I've finished my slashfest story for legomymalfoy -- Harry/Ron, 13,000 words. I feel bad that it ended on such an unlucky number, but I honestly couldn't spin it out any further. Stay tuned for further fic updates.

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