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No. 74955
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>>73415
The year is 2007. The Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland are now unified under the name of The Independent Republic Of Ériu and has been topping the charts of least religious nations on Earth for years. I live in Dublin with a gorgeous, creative (though not necessarily "artsy") and energetic Danish girl who speaks four languages and is always eager to listen to me banging on about music and books and films and the kind of crap I like. She enjoys staying in on weekends and taking part in my many inane little projects and always always gets the best weed from her friends (who are all either unattractive but affable women or gay men who aren't loud queens) and, of course, likes getting freaky in bed. The rainy season lasts only a few sparse months throughout the year and instead we get clear blue skies most days (although it snows a lot during the winter). We have no neighbours and three bikes (in case one gets fucked). Our house doesn't have plumbing or power-related issues. Ever. We have four rooms. One, the biggest, we share. The other we turned into a multi-purpose studio complete with soundproof walls and the other two are our individual rooms because hey, sometimes we just need to be alone.
Even thought I have a PhD on physics and maths, I work half-time at a factory as a welder and I'm so ballza at what I do that I get paid enough to cover all necessities and finance our projects and the few luxuries we like to indulge in (mainly spending ridiculous amount of money on albums, musical instruments and books), althought I do agree to give a lecture every now and then at the local University. Similarly, she has a doctorate on chemistry and biology, but prefers teaching French and German to either old people or high schoolers (but not at our place; fuck that). We have a small but homely garden and one, maybe two cats at most. Every summer we travel through Europe (mostly by train) and every once and again we go somewhere exotic or visit eachother's native home and family (though in my case I try to make it as briefly as possible; there's a reason I left this place and people behind. I keep joking that we'll stop visiting once my mother dies, but deep down I'm serious). Every so often we have a fight that usually starts as awful existential crises that invariably result in an exercise in strengthening our relationship.
Occasionally we get lightly involved with the local art scene, mostly pertaining to music and literature, but we make a point of avoiding any and all ties to other people and their inevitable political agenda/"deep" philosophical thoughts. Everyone's nice enough, bar the inevitable insufferable cunt who wants to convert everyone to their political/philosophical stance. I usually put an end to their diatribe via knuckles to the jaw. She gets mad about it while in public but is secretly turned on by my displays of cavemanness. Hey, I'm pretty primitive and know it and don't give a shit.
We are both horrified by the idea of having children, which is why I got a vasectomy and she got her tubes tied, just to be extra sure. Neither of us like to drink or smoke (other than dat sweet ganja u kno w i mean boiii).
None of this will ever happen. Not even parts of it.
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