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This is a question Road Rage

Last week I had to stop a guy attacking another one in the middle of the road - one had run the lights whilst on the phone and the other had objected. I actually had to take the attacker's car keys out of their car and tell him he wasn't getting them back till he calmed down.

Looking back on it, I was lucky I was feeling all parental and in control or the situation could have panned out very differently.

Have you lost it on the roads, or have you been on the recieving end of some nutter?

(, Thu 12 Oct 2006, 21:31)
Pages: Latest, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, ... 1

This question is now closed.

couldn't agree more
make everyone re-do their test every 5 years. more employment for instructors and examiners, more careful drivers, less accidents. bring it on.

as for the next rswipe rant - i've just found out my new flat will now be in the kengestion zone, courtesy of that slimey little c*nt livingstone.

so let me get this straight - i have to pay the council through the nose to PARK. but then if i MOVE, i have to pay red ken? how can that be right? how can it be right that you have to pay to move and to stay still?? and the only reason i move is because the tubes are so cocking sh1t when you work out in zone 6 that even a traffic jam is a better bet.

i have actually turned into my father and written to them to ask sarcastically where the claim form for their refund on parking permits is. then i will copy the inept reply to the daily reactionary twat. there must be something we can do about this! someone??
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 15:42, Reply)
fim flam
as a humble not a kitty i stand corrected your superior use of other languages astounds me i have been using that as easy come easy go for ages D'oh

now i think of it the french for easy is facile ah well thats what a liftime of drink and drugs will do for ye.

meow
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 15:42, Reply)
superkitty: we call em 'umpas'
we call 'em 'umpas'
orange face, layered on paint & straight hair=umplalumpa
ey, ey, i was in scallyland yesterday: umpa central!
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 15:42, Reply)
Chav in a box:
I wonder whether you could escape prosecution after running over the little shitfaces, on the grounds that you were temporarily blinded...

I would like to think so.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 15:39, Reply)
Teh Rage
Cunting kids with laser pens, thats what pisses me off. They think it's oh so original and oh so funny to shine the things in motorists eyes. Makes me feel like getting out and lamping the twats.

Where are David Blaine's security guards when you need them hey?
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 15:29, Reply)
One Nissan Micra less...
Long story cut short....

Fact: only arseholes/infirm/aged drive Nissan Micras. This has little bearing on anything but I feel better telling you.

A little man decides to pull out of a junction and turn right without noticing I'm travelling on the road he's just turned into. Result: weighed anchor narrowly missing him.

Generally I'm cool with idiots however, he makes that 'cheery wave after looking in his rear view like his just been let out of a junction through me being courteous and just wanting to test my brakes'. Gets to the queue at the light sand I'm at his door giving him my considered opinion.

He decides to lock his door and make rude gestures (brave and stupid - always a fun combo) so I grab his door handle which comes off in my hand. I then throw the broken handle at the window somewhat de-stressed and amused that this pathetic piece of Jap Crap has come apart with minimal effort.

Fast forward three weeks and there's a phone call from PC Plod. The half wit has taken my reg and called the Rozzers. Cue suitably apologetic conversation with an 'old school' copper who suggests I make amends by posting this numb nuts a cheque for the door handle and then he won't have to pay me a visit and fill in forms. I agree and the filth gives me his address!!!! (Data Protection - whats that?)

I dutifully sent off a cheque to the supplied address, waited 'til it cleared thus verifying the pillocks whereabouts and then in the still of the night paid his Micra a visit with iron filings. For those not of a destructive persuasion - sprinkling iron filings onto paintwork in a pattern (or words of your choice) overnight sees them a) become rusty with the condensation / dew / wet and b) eat into the paint / attach itself to the bodywork so that the only thing that can be done is the panel needs to be sanded flat and repainted. Not something an insurance firm will be doing on a ten year old car.....write off.

So - until the pay out (approx three weeks) and the long last drive to the knackers yard this one handled blue pile of sh*te drove around with 'wanker' in rust on the bonnet and sex pest on the roof.

Do I win a prize?
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 15:28, Reply)
Self inflicted?
Me and my friends used to delight in driving round Leeds city centre on a Friday and Saturday night soaking people queuing for night clubs with our super soaker water pistols (we even had the big one with a back pack). We stopped doing it after one particularly angry man chased us down the road, caught up to us at the traffic lights, punched through the rear window of the car and tried to strangle my friend.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 15:24, Reply)
I am a meek and mild road user
When I was a young recently fledged driver, I always drove without due care and attention and was involved in a fair few crashes, some my fault, others not. I used to get bad road rage, but I packed it all in when I met a work colleagues brother. He was 6'6'' and built like the proverbial brick khasi. He was also a bouncer, a breed of people not noted for their peaceful zen-like qualities. I found out that he kept a kosh made of 6 HP2 batteries, bound together with insulating tape, under his drivers seat. He told me that he regularly "twatted cunts" who he perceived to have caused him trouble on the road. I suddenly thought that it would be better if I didn't give a reason for this ape (or any other for that matter) to give me a clobbering.

Another reason I calmed down was because of an incident driving to work one day. I got cut up on a roundabout by a builders lorry. I blasted my horn at him, but I got a reply of "Fuck off you fat cunt". I could think of no witty retort, and in fact spent the rest of the day in a sulk. (Mainly because I am fat)

Nowadays, I ride motorcycles, pushbikes and drive a car, and I have been in many near misses with each. Mostly due to others being severely un-roadwise. Chavved up Nova's are no match for a 900cc Sportsbike, and I'm not about to race anyone on my pushbike or the family bus (people carrier).

Chill out guys, you only get to die once..
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 14:59, Reply)
This here's a convoooooy
Anyone who knows the A14 knows it's where fuckwitted lorry drivers inch past one another, creating tailbacks miles long, simply because one of them is doing 56mph and the other is doing 57mph.
Now once-upon-a-time it was explained to me that it's because once they reach top speed (which should be limited to 56mph), should they ease off the accelerator, it takes a loooooong time to get back up to speed, making a hell of a difference when they are putting on hundreds of miles in a day. Cock-a-doodle-do, I couldn't really give a shit about that, I just find it frustrating when I'm stuck behind them.

So, this particular day, I'm heading down the A14 trying to get to an appointment, when I become trapped behind one of these knob-ends. When he finally cleared the other lorry and pulled back in, I passed him and gave him the usual tic-tac. Looking down, he clearly didn't care, and flicked the V's.
Furious, I pulled in front of him, and took my foot off the gas. As he approached and thought he'd overtake, I pulled out into the outside lane. And back again. Ha! And so we danced.
By now we were at the bottom of a hill and slowed right down to 20mph. Guess who was furious now, lights flashing and horn blaring! I gave him a cheery wave and booted it away.

Having the presence of mind to remember the Catthorpe bottleneck, and not wanting to have him leap out of his cab and stuff his Yorkie up my arse, I zipped up the last-but-one exit.
I had enough time to get to the top, stop on the bridge and get out to salute him with my cock as he chugged by underneath. He obviously wanted some of it because he was blowing his horn like a good 'un. I like to think he may have popped a blood-vessel while I drove home in the sunshine, laughing, and not giving a shit about the appointment I'd missed.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 14:53, Reply)
superkitty
I'm not sure what you mean either. Possibly "comme ci comme ca", but what does "so-so" have to do with anything? Perhaps "que sera, sera" or possibly "bof!".

I agree with you about the orange-faces though, a scary breed!
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 14:38, Reply)
Man's Games
Shuffling down the Finchley Road we were, me and my mate - two students. Full of the joys that only piss-thin freshers, who've never had more than £30 in their life, could be having just received the first installments of their student loans.

My mate pulls out of a side road in his Mini Metro and severly cuts up a kojak lookalike. Kojak looks pissed, but we carry on about our business. A few junctions further along we stop at some traffic lights. Out of nowhere Kojak appears, having jumped out of his car behind us, and starts scrabbling away at the door to get at my mate.

He manages to force down the window and sticks his tiny, shiny head through and utters the immortal words...

"If you wanna play man's games....(Pause while he realises he hasn't fully thought out this particular verbal volly)....then....then....play man's games!!"

Then he slinks off. Opportunity lost I say, he should've battered us.

Kojak apologies for his lack of hair length.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 14:23, Reply)
Light relief (prefer hand relief though)
2 motors approaching each other down a long straight piece of unlit road, late one evening, apres pub. I am an innocent passenger in one vehicle, a cock-cheese flavoured Land Rover covered in spots, beacons and aeriels etc.

Other car has slight headlight alignment problems, perhaps a little high.
My driver: "Bastard, I'm not having that" flips on his main beam.
Other driver retaliates.
My driver : "Bastard, have a bit of this then" flips on fog lights.
Other driver retaliates
My driver : "Bastard, OK, how about a taste of these beauties then" flips on roof spots.
Other driver must have some too because more lights come on from his side.
By now my retinas are scorched and little creatures are emerging from their burrows, thinking it's morning.
My driver : "Absolute bastard, last chance." flips on revolving orange beacons and strobes on roof. It's like something out of Close Encounters by now.
Other driver retaliates. Only his beacons are blue.
My driver : "Oh dear" (Or words to that effect)
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 14:10, Reply)
beware good weather...
A few summers ago, I was driving through my village on the way home, on a beautiful sunny day. I have the roof and doors off of my Bright yellow Fibreglass (Kit car) Jeep and am enjoying the great weather. All of a sudden this car comes flying out of a side turning and hits my car on the Front drivers side, I immediately go ballistic shouting and swearing for the driver to follow me to the car park a few 100yds away. Bearing in mind the roof was off everyone outside the pub nearby heard me shouting, remember this was aa fibreglass car and I had visions of disintegration.
Well the other car followed me round to the car park and I jumped out of the car to inspect the damage, still fuming! I looked at my car, no damage....I looked at hers, front indicator smashed and a great big scrape down half of the car...Yay, for my Bull bars !! I then turned round to the other driver and asked how the hell she had not seen a huge Bright and I mean Bright Yellow Jeep in broad daylight?

Her answer...

"Well, it is sun-coloured"
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 13:59, Reply)
and another
was walking thruogh Liverpool city centre ealier this year at night having just gotten back from an excellent Nick Drake Tribute gig on the Wirral anyway am walking down seel street when a bunch of scally bitches drive into me and my mate, "hey i say" a little worse for wear "watch out" cue the rough little pikeys lauching into a torrent of personal abuse aimed at me hair (well it does kink at the though of rain and it was a wet night) and the fact that on a freezing cold April night i wasnt dressed in a lycra strip and about 4 sequins oh and the fact that my face was claerly visible not being caked in orange colured slime and 500 coats of blue eyeshadow and khol.

So i think feck em they can say what they want im going to take the higher ground here and let it go................unitl we come to the corner and the car that had been stuck in a mini jam draws level with us and the lead harpy lean out to hock a loogie on me and me mate, form this i see red and start yelling expleteives at them and kickin thier car, they made a getaway and i kicked meself for not taking the reggo and passing it on to my mate in the force, they were probably pissed up and wacked on goofballs.

Ah well, comme ce comme ca, they wouldnt even know what that means!
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 13:32, Reply)
Unraged
As a young driver I had an old convertible, slow and rattly but loads of fun to pootle around in. Now I'd be the first to admit that I committed some spectacular acts of fuckwittery in that car. I mounted a few curbs (and almost one roundabout), took too many corners on two wheels and unintentionally cut more than a few people up. I'm slightly better now but back then I was properly rubbish.

So when I was bimbling along a country lane one day with the roof down and a fairly large biker drew up alongside I feared the worst. Was this someone I'd just almost killed back to wreak leather clad revenge?

"Could you do me a favour mate?" he asked.

"Aha" I thought, desperately concentrating on not veering into him, it's the old sarcasm-followed-by-right-hook-through-the-open-window ploy.

"Could you drive along at exactly 30 please. The speedo on this bike is way out of whack."

Eeep. Only to happy to have avoided a deading I did just that, not informing him that the needle on my speedo had a habit of bouncing around like two kangaroos on a honeymoon.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 13:25, Reply)
4 wheels, no engine.
Not owning a car or driving license, I have never experienced proper road rage. I have, however, been involved in an incident involving a knob in a 4x4 and myself on a skateboard.
I get my fair share of ridicule for skating and being older than 14, so any snide comment will cause me to unleash hell. So imagine what I'd do if some cunt in a 4x4 deliberately accelerates straight at me as I'm crossing the road then has the cheek to shout "Get the fuck out of the way!" at me.

I put my board through both his headlights.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 13:15, Reply)
You'd have been proud.
I was once happily thrashing my bike through town... A fairly balmy summer's day, nothin out of the ordinary until I got onto a roundabout...

I was riding around it whe a lady in a green car (Nissan Primera) pulled along side me and "closed the door" on me.. Not just "oopsie" but RIGHT into me with the passenger door.. I take great pleasure in being able to predict stupidity in drivers, but this one had slipped under my radar.

*THUMP*

She had come right into my path with no notice, no right and no thought.. and I bounced off and accross a pavement into a wall.

Now... Having spent the entire day practicing for a downhill race and jumping/crashing over/into big things, this wan't really a bad collision for me... and besides, I was wearing Hard Nox body-armour and a full face Helmet... But still I got slightly riled at the fact that this woman had failed to stop. People stopped thier cars and were well on the way to see if I was ok... They must have through I was being a bit ungrateful as I picked the bike up and rode like the wind after the nissan...

I caught up with her at the next set of lights. (God Bless Huddersfield and the shite ring-road)

*pulls up next to open window*
"HEY!!! you DID just notice that you knocked me off my bike.. RIGHT???"
"No I didn't"
"Then how come your car has a scratch on it?"
"No it doesn't"
"Yes it does... right there... and the paint is still stuck in the end of my handlebar..."
"That could be from anything"
"do you knwo that failing to stop at the scene of an accient is a criminal offence?"

*lights changed and she tried to flee... but it's easy to hold on to cars and go with them...*

At this point I'd given up on the "talking to her" thing... all I'd wanted was an acknowledgment that she'd just sent me flying.

"Oh well Madam... It's been nice talking to you"

Sat level with the front left wing-mirror I raised one adrealine filled and tightly clenched fist, and thumoped her wing-mirror as hard as i could. It was left danglign by the wires that ran into it.. Smashed casing and glass.

She stared in shock as I tore it off completely.. and said "I don't know why you're upset... It's not as though you used it... "

Maybe it was a bit mean... But i really enjoyed it.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 13:04, Reply)
Oh, another one
This one also happened to my sister, but i was a passenger in her car at the time: We were at some traffic lights, waiting patiently, when some old dear pulls up next to us, in the lane on our right, the lane supposed to be for traffic turning right. My sister says "i bet she goes straight on and tries to cut us off", which does happen but my sisters reflexes were better, so the "old dear" almost runs into the pavement in front, then pull up behind us, blaring her horn and flashing her headlights... my sister, being 19 at the time, looks in the rear view mirror, and flashes her the finger... the woman then proceeds to ram my sisters golf from behind, so she brakes, gets out of the car... and starts kicking the old womans car door. All in broad daylight. I don't think i've laughed so much since.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 13:02, Reply)
Driving Tests
Debbiedoesderby wrote: "*Old people. I think after you turn 60 you should have a test every 5 years. "

I would go one further, and suggest that everyone should have to retake their test after X number of years, and that the licence should be a simple "one strike and you're out" affair, where for any offence you have to retake your test.

Expensive for the road user, yep. Driving is a priviledge and not a right.

One thing which does give me rage is people running through red lights, and that's cyclists, drivers, whoever. There is a crossing near my place of work, and I have lost count of the number of near misses I've seen there from people who decide the light doesn't apply to them.

In fact, there's a sign on the crossing now appealing for witnesses to a crash.

Sadly, while many of these near misses have resulted in rage of passersby or would-be victims, the drivers are all too often oblivious, and far away down the road.

So yes, if I ran the country or at least the roads, I would introduce compulsory retesting for road users. You want/need to drive? Fine, prove that you *can.*

Would I fail a retest? Probably, but then I think that most people would. Vote for me, I'll make the roads safer.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 13:01, Reply)
Bike Rage
Cycling through Reading on one of the thoughtfully supplied bike lanes, I couldn't help but notice a) the large puddle in the gutter left from a recent shower and b) the open-topped sports car heading towards it with the sole purpose of drenching me head to foot.

"Glub" I went.

"Gotchayoucuuuuunt!" screamed the driver as his harpy of a girlfriend laughed like a big ugly stupid.

Unfortunately for them, within 400 yards they were trapped in the traffic queue for Caversham Bridge, and I could see the fearful look on his face as I caught up with him.

I did nothing.

I stopped, still dripping, and stared at the dreadful twosome for a few seconds, before fixing my gaze on the Harpy.

"God, you're ugly."

Already heading into the distance, all I could hear were her shrieks of anger.

"Dave! DAVE! If you was a man you'd do something about 'im! DAVE! Kick his fahkin' teef in! DAVE!"
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 13:00, Reply)
Two Stories
Whilst a student i used to cycle round town (toulouse, south of france) and one sunny day i was unlocking my bike on the pavement bordering a small road, i could hear some sort of shouting down the road but didn't take any notice when all of a sudden somedody is screaming "HA!" in my face... Some clean long haired berk in a suit driving a convertible is amusing some young blonde in the passenger seat by frightening people walking down the road... so what do i do? I get on my bike and follow them... eventually they get held up in traffic so i come up behind them, drivers side, and as soon as i reach them i bellow an allmight "HAAAAA!" right at them... the look on the berks face was priceless, really terrified, so i just carry on riding my bike, flipping them the "finger", feeling very righteous... The second story happened to my sister, who was driving back down the mountains from andorra... the road down is obviously windy and narrow, so you have to be pretty careful, it can get slippery with ice and stuff... anyway, she's driving down and some prat in a 205 GTI ends up behind her, trying to overtake, driving like a maniac, flashing his headlights, beeping his horn... eventually after a while he manages to overtake... a few kilometres down the mountain, she turns a corner and there's the same guy, his car up against a large rock, water and stuff spewing out of the front, a complete write off, and the bloke standing next to it, looking at what's left of his car... so my sister slows down, opens the window, looks at him and goes "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA", which made the bloke go all red and start shouting "GROSSE PUTE" (which i'll let you translate for yourself) and other lovely expletives!
Result!
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 12:48, Reply)
pavement rage cont....
Way back in time 20 odd years ago, at my old school we had an economics teacher who was a hard case borderline nutter.He was about 6'5" and once played rugby for England. I was told he eventually got the sack for putting a metal wastebin over a kids head and then punching him in the stomach - reason for punishment....looking at his watch while the teacher was talking!!.

Aaaanyhoo, he used to walk down the busy corridors with both arms out in front of him 'Mummy style' with fists clenched. You only ever got in his way the once.....Headmaster and other staff included.

Saying that, he was the best actual teacher i ever had, and he had a 100% pass rate in both O and A level in Economics, mainly due to no one dare failing.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 12:44, Reply)
pavement rage
my friend nick says there should be a random cull on oxford street every saturday morning. usually i tell him off.

until the odd occasion i actually find myself in that seething chav and tourist infested hellhole (i normally stick to high st ken and kings rd, bit more civilised!).

then i spend the whole time grinding my teeth and working out how i would cull, whom i would cull, quick and letal -v- tortuous and satisfying...
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 12:43, Reply)
More pavement solutions
I lived for a while in Jiangsu Province in China, the most heavily populated area in the world. The streets are often so crowded that you have to shuffle along in a line of people. It was here that I learned to walk.

The trick is to to set a line through the crowds and walk as fast as possible towards it without deviating from your path. Maintain eye lock on your goal and do not glance at anyone in the way. This creates a vibe of puprose and unstoppability which causes obstructions to part like the red sea.

And if they don't, you knock 'em down.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 12:14, Reply)
ocasionally, i leave a deposit....
as a motorcyclist I find that my very presence is offensive, I like to think its jealousy-but how tehy can tell i'm hung like a bear as tehy
SMIDSY, carve me up etc I don't know, I try also not to let stuff phaze me but occasionally I leave a deposit: i have an old waterproof jacket with clingfilmed greaseballs in the pockets, one of those lobbed at a windscreen is punishment enough.
the first thing they do is put the washers on & it spreads nicely: f*ucks up the wiprs and creates a permanent fog across the screen, result: problem behind me.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 12:04, Reply)
my pavement technique
for pavement walking i swing my arms in problem ares, in sever fuckwittage areas i like to imagnie i could walk around waving like a winmill, like when bart and lisa have that fight in the simpsons (i am going to be punchin the air like this and if you get in the way then it is youre fault)

for supermarkets i use my empty basket as a shield when it is full i just swear loudly
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 11:56, Reply)
Pavement rage
The best way to deal with pavement rage (a la Oxford Street) is to put your hands in your pockets, brace your elbows, and thump anyone in the stomach who comes near you with elbows. Cheers one up no end.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 11:46, Reply)
Grandparents
I was staying with my grandparents for a bit and had been playing football down the park with my cousins for a while before my grandparents came to pick us up (they were on the way back from the supermarket) and it appeared Grandad had been having a bad day. My Gran is from Bearsden and as a result is a very proper, old fashioned and occasionally guilty of simply being from Bearsden (there's a quality girls from Bearsden have that you can't really describe any other way, nearest thing is a cross between being militantly conservative and incredibly scatterbrained). Grandad on the other hand, well, now I know where my Dad got his ability to swear from.
The car stalls during a three point turn and Grandad finally loses it and unleashes a volley of coarse language that I have never before or since seen from him.
He said 'Oh bugger.'
Gran reacted as if he'd just suggested raping my wee cousin.
Road Rage repressed Pensioner style.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 11:44, Reply)
should have gotten angry
but never.

once upon a time i used to be a cyclist, beofre the terriblecuntery of pedestrian rage and bus rage i previously mentioned, and i was heathier and fitter for ti but someting made me stop, well several things but the main two are as follows.

1. cycling home from uni down smithdown road, parked cars all the way down the street, double decker bus comes racing down the road, i glace behind me and notice this leviathan beast bearing down on me and also more concerning that if i cannot get out of the way i will be crushed and mangled, as i said there were no passing places parked cars everywhere so i take evasive action and attempt to steer my bike and me into a 3 foot gap between two of the said cars, big mistake, the kerb is raised to stop people parking on it, my bike wheel snakebites and buckles and i go flying into the path of an old lady as the bus skims the back wheel. Bastard diddnt even slow down cunt.

2. Smithdown road again and at athe traffic lights waiting fo green, slippery as it is wet, green appears i go to pedal away but my foor slips off the pedal and i go sideways into a miving bus which then runs over my bike wheel whilst i put my hand through the indicator lights on the side of the bus and my leg goes at a funny angle, which just isnt right. Fair play to the driver this time who stops and lets me onto his bus for free actually because of the accident he has to boot everyone but me of the bus including some old biddy who is moaning that this was the biggest shock of her life and desparately vying for attention, i think my hand pissing blood and the mangeld bike stole her thunder, any way statments are taken and i go on my way but am unable to bring my bike so i d locked it to a lampost by woolies on Allerton road. That evening i got royally pissed and ended up teraing all the tendons in my right leg and twisting my left ankle, long story another time perhaps, so i couldne get my bike back. At the time i was workin as a sandiwch maker and went out in the van delivering with my boss, everday i would pas my poor bike faithfully waiting at the lampost, over the next few weeks whilst recovering bits went missing, first the seat, then the wheels and so on until just the lock remained around the bottom of the post :( the cops proably had ti cut off but anyway thats why i no longer cycle, no bike and bus fear. The busdriver from the second incident i have seen many times since and he always lets me onto the bus for free, top bloke.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 11:39, Reply)
Vipros
That's all of us, we are cross bred with lemmings.
(, Tue 17 Oct 2006, 11:36, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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