Decent Journalism

500 k. That’s some thieving all the same.
Great times though.

Have followed this girls story for a long time. Never knew how close to death she was. Amazing.

I very much suspect so.

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Hasn’t she a documentary on this week?

Delighted for her. Great story and advocate for those with C.F. Went to school with a brother and sister who died from CF.

She would be a lot more deserving of a nomination for the presidential election than some of those charlatans who got it during the week.

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Yes. She mentions it at end of piece

Thats a fact. She will do great things yet

This is on right now. RTE 1

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Surreal watching someone starting to write their own obituary here and saying their goodbyes. What a horrible disease

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Great piece here with Andrew Cole. Donald McRae always comes up with the goods

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Ewan is one of the finest wums you will see. Is there any set of fans he hasn’t had seething at this stage.

“Unfortunately,” as Walsh concludes, one outcome of the 30 years of mayhem was that “in Upper Canada, the name ‘Tipperary’ became synonymous with societal dysfunction”.

“The Donnelly family staked a claim to land that others owned. Given the nature of the judicial decree, it meant that both the persecuted and the persecutors ended up on living right beside each other. In a rural wilderness, the resultant relationship could only be toxic – especially when all the parties are from the same background and geographic origin.”

WTF? Only if the background and geographical location is Tipperary

Following on from the Warm Up North thread, this is pretty good.

  • Scappaticci murdered his close neighbours and good friends, whose kids had sleepovers with his kids and who were IRA members. He tortured them before he killed them.
  • he’s a life-long pedarist
  • he was one of the pioneers of knee-capping and was a British agent the whole time he developee and pursued this strategy
  • almost everyone who ever met him thought he was a complete dick head
  • they’re not sure why exactly he turned informant. It might be because they caught him for a minor VAT offence or he might have just walked into the Brits off the street one day.
  • most of the IRA guessed he was a rat long ago but there were a few bigwigs in Belfast who just liked that he was such a cunt, including possibly Gerry Adams
  • he got away with everything

himself and Adams worked in the same department of MI6

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ATLANTA — Progress had halted and the attractive 20-somethings who filled the waiting room were growing more agitated when the door inside the License and Permit Office finally swung open late Wednesday morning. Despite the city’s best efforts to plan ahead, the extra supplies the police department ordered to prepare for this week’s blitz did not arrive on time.

As a result, a city official announced that the office was out of printer ink. They were awaiting another shipment to arrive from the airport, but until then they couldn’t print the necessary licenses these women needed to work in town during Super Bowl week. They were welcome to wait it out, but there was a chance these dancers — all eager to pay the $250 fee for a permit and the right to earn thousands upon thousands more — would have to come back Thursday.

Everyone from vendors to dancers needs a permit to work this week. Upon hearing the news of the ink shortage, a handful of irritated women groaned and stood up at once. The chaos of the visitors coming and going, coupled with city employees trying to leave for their lunch break, created a large enough traffic jam in the overwhelmed parking lot that an elderly female worker stepped outside to direct traffic.

It’s Super Bowl week. Welcome to Atlanta.

Perhaps no city in America outside of Las Vegas is tied more closely to strip clubs than Atlanta. All of the biggest hip-hop stars, from Drake and Future to T.I. and 50 Cent, mention the clubs in their lyrics. Even Motley Crue’s 1987 hit “Girls, Girls, Girls” referenced TattleTales, a club that still operates on the city’s north end.

With more than 20 clubs within city limits and countless more on the periphery, it’s not hard to find a naked party from downtown to midtown, Buckhead to Chamblee. That’s particularly true this week when hundreds of dancers are expected to flock to the city for the world’s biggest party week.

“Whether you visit strip clubs or not, it’s just part of the culture here,” said 33-year-old Uber driver James Reno, an Atlanta native who often drives overnights and estimates that 20 percent of his clients are either dancers (15 percent) or customers (5 percent). “If you’re not planning on going to one yourself, your friend is going to invite you to one. It’s such a part of the fabric that everyone visits strip clubs whether you’re Christian, Muslim; it don’t matter. Even in low-income areas, stripping is still big. It’s big money.”

The biggest of the big money gets thrown around at Magic City, one of the world’s most famous adult entertainment clubs. It is such a tourist destination that Reno recalled once driving a family of four — mother, father and two college-aged kids (a son and daughter) — to the club from the downtown Marriott Marquis.

“I didn’t ask too many questions with those people,” he said. “It was odd to me that a family was going there, but it is what it is.”

The Patriots have been to so many Super Bowls that few instructions are given anymore, but a number of Rams players conceded that the team’s security personnel gathered them together shortly after arriving and warned them to avoid certain areas of the city this week.

At the top of the list? Magic City.

“They just told us to stay away from there,” Rams rookie offensive lineman Brian Allen said. “That’s usually where things get hairy.”

Hip-hop artist and Atlanta native Jermaine Dupri, who essentially grew up in the club, first coined the phrase “Magic City Monday.” It has since become a cultural sensation, attracting celebrities and citizens for years who all want to be part of the crowd.

Cars wrapped around Magic City’s parking lot late Monday night and out onto Forsyth Street six days before the Super Bowl. Each car was charged either $60 or $100 to park, depending on the space, and the entry fee was another $50. That’s $110 to $150 gone before even getting in the door.

It’s not unusual to see guys like Falcons receiver Julio Jones or 50 Cent in the club, both of whom were there Monday to celebrate 50 Cent’s brand launch. The club has been known to host shows with Rick Ross and Kevin Hart. Nick Cannon has done video shoots there. The club has even hosted food shows, and the local CBS affiliate once came out to do a segment — one of the few times a strip club was on the news for something positive.

“It used to be taboo. It’s not anymore,” said Katrina Fuqua, Magic City’s brand manager. “We have as many female clientele as we do male. Sometimes we have more. We have a lot of nationalities. We have diversity. We have every type of person, people from different countries. It’s amazing this little place on this corner of Atlanta has turned into this.”

Fuqua laughed when she was told the Rams instructed their players to avoid her club. She was neither surprised nor upset.

“I understand it. It’s like going somewhere and you’re doing stuff that’s probably going to drain you. Just don’t even do that. Just wait till after and then you’re free to go,” she said. “We knew they weren’t coming before the game, but we’d love for them to come the Monday after.”

Fuqua knew every Monday after a Falcons win that Jones, Harry Douglas and Roddy White would be in the club. She said Cam Newton has popped in after games when the Panthers were in town.

Both Yahoo Sports and HBO’s “Vice News” stopped by this week. A documentary crew from Amsterdam stopped in once to do an entire segment in Dutch.

“We didn’t know what he was saying,” Fuqua laughed, “but he was having a great time whatever he was saying. He had a smile on his face from the time he walked in until the time he left.”

A Paris DJ interviewed Magic City’s DJ and swapped playlists. Now a London crew is set to return this weekend to continue filming for another documentary that will feature some of the club’s dancers both at work and in their personal life. Dancers like Secret, a 31-year-old who traveled from New Jersey to Atlanta to work at Magic City for one week in 2010 and never left.

Secret, who chose her stage name because of her deodorant, struggled to make $3,000 a week dancing in Philadelphia. Then she made $1,500 her first night at Magic City, called her mother and told her she was never coming back. She’s been here ever since.

Secret’s goal is to make $15,000 this week — she already walked out with $2,500 just on Monday night. It will be enough to pay off the loan on her BMW, which is about $5,000, and still have plenty left over.

“I’m expecting a lot of money. I’m ready,” Secret said. “I just know there’s going to be so much money in the city. So much money in the city. Magic City is the place to be.”

Entertainers wait for their license to dance in Atlanta during Super Bowl week. (Jason Lloyd / The Athletic)

The women who spent their Wednesday morning in a stale permit office waiting for their license won’t be working at Magic City this week. While a number of the clubs around town accept women from other cities for the Super Bowl, Fuqua does not allow outsiders.

Instead, dancers like Egypt, a 25-year-old who traveled here from Kentucky, will have to choose another club. She will be working at Blue Flame, which happens to be just down the street from the permit office. She’s never done a Super Bowl before but found Blue Flame on Instagram when they sent out a promotional photo of $500,000 to try to entice dancers to come down for the week.

Social media has made it easy for all the women to find clubs during big weeks like this. Secret, for instance, has traveled to Houston and Phoenix in past years to dance during the week leading up to a Super Bowl. The clubs check the women to make sure they fit the look, then send them to the permit office for the license.

The city fingerprints each applicant and completes a background check. If any of them have prostitution convictions, they cannot work in clubs this week. The city does not track permit applications in real time and could not give an official number of how many women have already applied for licenses. It’s similarly impossible to predict how many more are coming. But one official working in the permit building estimated they had already handed out 150 licenses before running out of ink — with hundreds more dancers likely still on the way.

Egypt makes about $2,000 in Kentucky while working two or three nights a week. Once she gets her license, she is planning to work 12-hour shifts from open to close every day at Blue Flame. She’s hoping to leave town with at least $10,000.

“I’m not nervous, I’m just tired,” she said. “I’m ready to get this over with so I can go back to sleep.”

Everyone profits off the Super Bowl, particularly the host city. It’s not unreasonable to think Atlanta will make more than $100,000 just off licensing fees for dancers entering the city this week.

Secret expects to make $15,000 dancing at Magic City during Super Bowl week. (Photo courtesy of Magic City)

Uber drivers are expecting a bump, too. Reno has completed nearly 1,300 trips in his 13 months on the job. He drives through the night mostly to pay for his daughter’s escalating medical bills due to her PTSD. He estimates he makes $80-$100 a week just driving strippers around and has learned a couple of things: Dancers are terrible tippers and too often they use Uber Pool, which puts them at risk of sharing a car with other riders.

He once picked up a dancer outside of Pin Ups in Decatur. She selected the Uber Pool feature and a moment later Reno’s alert dinged again. He circled back around to the club and a man his passenger had just been dancing for came out. The dancer panicked and begged Reno not to let him in the car.

“He just saw me nude!” she told him. But Reno had no choice.

Uber Pool prohibits drivers from declining rides. Similarly, the driver has no choice in who gets dropped off first — the app dictates that based on locations. Fortunately for the dancer, the man was dropped off first.

After he got out of the car, Reno turned and lectured the dancer for trying to save a few bucks on an Uber Pool. If she had been dropped off first, Reno told her, then the man would’ve known where she lives.

“They always go the cheaper route and they rarely tip. Every now and then I get a tip in singles,” Reno said. “One night I picked up a stripper and she gave me $16 in ones. She said, ‘Here’s some stripper ones that have been in my ass all night.’ I went home and my wife was waking up to get my daughter ready for school. I walked in the room and threw all 16 at her and said, ‘Dance!’ She asked why. I said, ‘These are stripper ones, I heard they’re magic.’ ”

Pretty, another one of the dancers in Magic City, corroborates Reno’s claims. Pretty acknowledged she doesn’t really tip Uber drivers and, yes, she has taken an Uber Pool home from the club more than once.

“I do Uber Pools on days where the possibility of someone else joining the pool is low, like 4 a.m. on a Monday,” Pretty said. “I live 3 miles away. The odds of someone else getting in at 4 a.m. on a Monday within that 3-mile distance is very low.”

Pretty has relied on Uber so much since her driver’s license was suspended that she is now a platinum rider. But once it is reinstated in about a month, she insists she’ll never be in an Uber again.

For now, she dances to fund her startup company that locates apartments for people who need a place to live and either don’t want to do it or don’t know the area. Pretty, 27, has been dancing since she was 18. She typically makes about $1,000 a night and sometimes only works 10 nights a month.

She received a marketing degree from the University of Texas, which she now calls a “bullshit degree.”

“My views on higher education and education period have definitely become a little more mature and wiser as I’ve gotten older,” she said. “I went to college, I busted my ass and my first job was $13 an hour, and I stripped my way through college. I was like, ‘OK, I’ve got a degree now. I’m done stripping. I’m going to do what I’ve been working hard to do.’ And then I realized I was making more money stripping. I could make $100,000 a year stripping, so what’s the point? I was making $40,000 before taxes at my other job. Oh no, baby.”

Like Secret, Pretty has big plans for this week. She’s committed to working open to close and expects to clear $10,000 — typically what she makes in a month.

At some point, even the prettiest faces fade and the sexiest bodies start to sag. Eventually, Fuqua usually has to tell dancers their days at Magic City are over. Rarely do they leave on their own. The lifestyle and money are just too grand.

But not every club in Atlanta is filled with perfect 10s. The Clermont Lounge is the oldest club in town and has evolved into a tourist attraction now where regular, everyday women take the stage to dance simply because they enjoy it.

It isn’t the typical strip club, but instead a normal-looking neighborhood bar with a naked woman on top. Moms, wives and, yes, even grandmothers dance here. Blondie turns 62 next month. Paula turns 69 next month. Both have been dancing for decades and still love to get onstage at Clermont, where patrons yell in delight and are quick to hand both singles during their performances.

When Paula climbed on stage to dance to Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie” this week, the dollar bills quickly followed. No one is making the kind of money here that Secret and Pretty are pulling in at Magic City. Paula says only that she makes “a few hundred” a night, and Blondie says she’ll make this week whatever God wants her to make.

Blondie calls herself spiritual, not religious. She drinks a little beer and smokes a little weed on occasion, but she also prays and reads her Bible three hours a day. While most practicing Christians would condemn her lifestyle, Blondie says God has her there to help the other women in the club.

“I try to be a friend to these girls. A lot of them are very lost,” she said. “They come from broken homes, a lot of their boyfriends or husbands are in jail, on dope and they get messed up with the wrong men.”

Blondie still performs three nights a week at Atlanta’s Clermont Lounge. She will turn 62 next month. (Jason Lloyd / The Athletic)

Paula is a grandmother who retired from dancing but got back into it when the club’s owner, Tracey Brown, called and told her she needed “more old ladies.” Brown paid the licensing fee and pleaded with Paula to return.

Clermont Lounge gives dancers the choice to go topless or fully nude. Blondie suffered a stroke last year, yet remains in terrific shape for her age. She can still do the splits, crush a beer can with her breasts, dance on her toes and perform drop kicks during her routines. Both older women, however, choose to just go topless.

“I have a vagina that looks like a dead gopher hole with dried up leaves around it,” Paula said. “People just don’t want to see it anymore.”

Paula, incidentally, isn’t even the club’s oldest dancer. The oldest dancer is 72. The youngest is 23-year-old Gabriella, who graduated cum laude from Georgia State with a degree in psychology.

But she is also a mother of three and going through a divorce. She married a 35-year-old when she was 16 and had her first child at 17. She receives no child support, yet put herself through college and graduated with a 3.61 GPA. Dancing at Clermont Lounge is her only job. She works open to close most days.

“Psychology is one of the worst degrees you can get,” she said. “I tried to work. I was dancing and I tried to get into the field. I honestly couldn’t make ends meet. I’m a single mother, I have three kids ages 5, 3 and 1. I had no help. My family doesn’t have the money for that.”

So she dances at Clermont and she loves her job. She usually makes about $2,000 a week but is hopeful that will go up to at least $3,000 for Super Bowl week. And when she hears about the women at Magic City making four and five times that much, she simply shrugs.

“You can be who you are here. I don’t have to go through surgery to be here,” Gabriella said. “I’m a mom. I have three kids. I don’t have to get fake breasts. I don’t have the biggest breasts. I don’t have to get a tummy tuck. If I want to go all the way naked, someone is going to enjoy it. This is a club like no other. There’s no other club where you can find grandmas and mothers. It’s natural, raw, real bodies like in the real world. Not silicone and tummy tucks.”

Brown is proud of the fact she doesn’t charge her dancers the fees typically associated with clubs. They don’t have to pay the house or tip the DJ. Whatever they make is theirs to keep.

And the celebrities like Robert DeNiro, Morgan Freeman and Woody Harrelson roll in, too. When Pink performed in Atlanta during the summer, she was off the stage and into the Clermont so fast for the after party that the other patrons didn’t think it was actually her. But Brown, the only female strip club owner in Atlanta, was thrilled when everyone in the bar left her alone.

“As a woman, we don’t discriminate. Some of them are beautiful, some of them are overweight,” Brown said. “I think that has a lot to do with a bar that’s run by females. You don’t have to have a Barbie body. We’re just different. Other bars like the Cheetah wouldn’t get by with doing this. They’ve got to have the Barbie dolls. But we can and that’s what kind of makes us different. I’m sure a lot of times people come through the doors because they hear we’ve got old dancers and they’re going to come in here and make fun of them and think it’s a cruddy place. But when they stay, they say, ‘We love this place. We’ll be back. This place is amazing.’ We’re different.”

While Clermont Lounge and Magic City have little in common, one of their shared characteristics is the lack of private rooms. They don’t exist in either place. Magic City consists of 26 tables and an H-shaped stage that houses two poles. That’s it.

No champagne rooms, no temptations to break the law. Whatever happens, it happens out in the open during table dances at both places.

“We know what happens in private rooms. That’s why we’ve been around for 38 years,” Fuqua said. “Everything is right in the wide open.”

Fuqua insists no form of prostitution occurs inside Magic City and anyone caught going too far is immediately gone — both dancer and patron. One random officer patrolling an Atlanta street corner this week acknowledged that he believed prostitution of some form likely occurs in most, if not all, of the city’s strip clubs. Yet, he also conceded officers aren’t too worried about it this week.

Magic City had 85 women on the floor Monday night. That number could reach 100 in various clubs across the city this weekend as the game nears. Do the math and that means well more than 1,000 dancers could be walking around Atlanta with thousands of dollars each this weekend.

Clubs are staying open later and women are planning on working longer. There is a rule that women can only work 27 hours a week, but nobody is abiding by that this week. And if the party is still going when it’s time to close, well, then the party is likely to continue.

“You can’t kick Drake out,” Pretty laughed.

In preparation for this week’s storm of people, Magic City had to undergo a minor repair this week. Construction workers milled around the property Tuesday to fix the basement after a recent rainstorm flooded the downstairs. Workers were called in to fix the roof and repair the walls.

The real flood in Atlanta this week is only beginning

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Bullet points please

You’re in the wrong thread for that craic.

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