It was no country for young men. Or women ... Unemployment emigration and do-it-yourself hair colour kits were once again a fact of life. Taxes were on the up the IMF were on the way and there was a cash for gold outlet in Foxrock Village. But the signs for recovery were good - for me at least. I was the chief executive of one of the few businesses turning a profit in this town a shredding company helping to dispose of the Celtic Tiger's dirty little secrets. And I was getting plenty of love action - as the boy-toy of an attractive sixty-year-old woman who was totally rolling in it. I never imagined myself ending up as a gigolo. But as the saying goes where there's a will there's a way-hey-hey! With presents galore sex on demand and a hot meal on the table every night life was storting to look up again. All I had to do to aovid focking it up was to keep my chinos buttoned. And well you can probably guess how that went.
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