It's been too long since my last post. I can't remember anything that has happened. I can't even remember what I wrote about last time, and I am far too lazy to go read my last entry.
I vaguely remember Katie coming to the office to tell me that George's door wasn't working right. She was referring to his front door which happened to be working just fine, but I did notice that his pantry door was out of track. I put it back in for him. He seemed baffled that anything could be done about it.
I also remember that at some point last week I was at the in-laws' house when I got a very angry sounding call from James' eldest daughter. She was upset that James' air conditioner was out again. I told her that I was not in town at the moment and would not be able to do anything until the morning. This just made her more upset. Fortunately, I was able to get back to the apartment around eight that night, and I stopped by his apartment to check out the problem. The air conditioner was definitely broken. I called the repairman first thing in the morning. It turns out a part was just blown, completely unrelated to the previous problem. It took him about five minutes to fix it.
I was sitting in the office at some point this week when I saw a stretcher wheeling someone into the building. That seemed odd. Usually, they wheel people out. The especially wheel people out who they have covered in a blanket like they are dead. As it turns out, it was Bobbie. She wasn't dead. Instead, she had been forced to go to the hospital that morning in her nightgown which somehow she had bleed through, so they were kind enough to give her a ride back and escort her into her apartment to save her dignity.
Later that same day, Bobbie came storming into the office hopping mad. The first thing she did was demand the number for who to complain to in Bloomington. She assured me that Susie (her power of attorney) was going to raise Hell. It took a couple minutes before I could even ask her why. The answer: "I never get to do my warshin'." According to Bobbie, the laundry room is always in use. So naturally I asked her if anyone was using it at the moment. Well no, she admitted. Then she tried to tell me that she'd been sick for two weeks and hadn't been able to do her "warshin'." My guess is then that when she did finally try to do her laundry someone happened to be using it. But Bobbie wasn't done. She then took off into a rant about how she was about to bleed to death that morning, and no one would answer the door to help her. I don't know what was wrong with her, but I do know that I'd be surprised if anyone answered the door to her banging on it at four or five in the morning.
George's insurance agent came to see him this week. She had been with him for awhile when she rushed into my office on the brink of tears telling me that someone was stealing George's money. George was telling her that someone was writing checks in his name. She wanted to know if I knew anything about it. I didn't really know what to say. She told me that he needed to go see the police and that she would take him the next day. When she left, George came into the office and essentially told me the same thing she did. He said someone was taking money out of his account and writing checks in his name. He said that he didn't know who it would be. His insurance agent came back the next day to take him to the police and the bank, and they were gone for awhile. When they came back, she stopped back in the office to tell me that George had been the one writing the checks the whole time. What I don't know is 1) if George really had been hiding the fact that he was writing the checks and confessed when pressed 2) if George forgot about writing the checks or 3) George knows who is writing the checks and is protecting them from the police (as is his history with his floozies).
Jon, you nailed it. I've had all sorts of visitors to this blog because I mentioned the whole "Girls Gone Wild" thing. But they weren't just searching the GGW. They were specifically searching the fiasco in NV. There were several hits from NV itself and even some from other cities like Bloomington. Anna's guess is that the Bloomington hit is an IU student from NV. All of this makes it relatively likely that Anna might even know some of these people. Or as Anna said, it means that at the very least she knows someone who knows each and every one of these people. Bunch of perverts here in southern Indiana.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Often
George walked into the office this week carrying a year old cable bill. I couldn't understand what he was asking me. All I could do was tell him that the bill was a year old. He came back about fifteen minutes later with an up to date phone bill. I looked at it and saw that not only was he up to date on payment but he had a $9 credit on his account. I told him this, and he seemed just as confused as when he came in in the first place. He left shaking his head. I have no idea what that was all about.
Bobbie is paranoid. She'd said and done things before that should have clued me in, but it really occurred to me this week just how paranoid she is. I think I probably mentioned this last summer, but one of the first things Bobbie ever told me was about "that Mexican over there in the trailer park dressin' in women's clothes and lookin' in my window." I know I mentioned how she had rolled up paper and stuffed it in her peephole. She's afraid people are spying on her through it. This week she came to me and went off on one of her long multiply tangential rants about everything under the sun, but in the midst of all the nonsense, I noticed her again focusing on the idea that people are wanting to look in on her through her bedroom window.
Aw-fun or Awf-tun? It grates on me when people abuse the English language, but I should admit a dialectical bias when I decide who I believe to be correct. Naturally, everyone from Colorado is right. So lately, I've been noticing every time I hear someone pronounce "often" sans the "t" sound. I don't do this. The "t" is in the word so it should be pronounced. There is no such thing as a silent "t" in this type of construction. But then Anna tells me that in voice lessons she was instructed to sing "often" without the "t" sound. I thought to myself, "self, how can educated people instruct their students to abuse the English language so?" But, I reasoned, this is the same voice teacher who pronounces "larynx" as "lair-in-ix." I tried to forget about it, but I couldn't escape people saying "awfun." So I looked it up, and to my surprise, the preferred pronunciation in the dictionary is "aw-fun." How could this be?!?! This is wrong! I did more reading. It turns out that the "t" was lost sometime between the 15th and 17th centuries as speakers got lazy. The lazy intellectuals of the 17th century decided that was alright by them so "aw-fun" became standard. When people in the 19th rediscovered the concept of spelling, they also rediscovered the "t" in "often." I suppose that it makes sense then for classically trained singers to sing "aw-fun" because that's how the composers of those songs heard it, but any pedant who tries to tell me that "awf-tun" is incorrect will get a swift kick in the balls.
Apparently Darbie hardly sleeps at night. She looks half dead each time she comes into the office so I've taken to asking her when she went to bed. Most nights as it turns out, she doesn't go to bed until three or four in the morning, and she has to get up at five to make the bus. I guess she does most of her sleeping on the bus ride to and from school.
Two more toilet paper rolls can be chalked up to Daisy's casualty list.
Our car has started to really idle funny this week. I took it to Autozone so they could get the computer readout from the car. It turns out that we have a bad O2 sensor. For those of you unfamiliar with an O2 sensor, it monitors the amount of oxygen in the exhaust system of the car and determines from this information what the mix of fuel and air should be in the engine. With the sensor out, the mix in the engine is off and ta-da, a sputtering engine. Hopefully, I can take it in on Monday.
I'm hungry.
Daisy has a nasty looking scabbed over spot on her neck, under her chin. I think we're going to have to stick her in a "cone of shame" until it heals.
Yesterday was tax day. Boo.
On Wednesday, Jennings County was filled with excitement over the arrival of the "Girls Gone Wild" bus in North Vernon. Facebook was filled with all sorts of commentary on the subject. Status updates ranged from fears that certain people's own mothers might end up on video to those wondering if they were doing a special series of "Meth-heads Gone Wild" to those who were tempted to buy this particular video just to see of they graduated with anyone on it. The general consensus was that North Vernon was about the stupidest place for the bus to go and expect to find attractive girls willing to expose themselves. My personal theory is that they are going for the corruption of mid-western goody two-shoes farm girls angle after spending so long on the beaches of California and Florida.
People who read this blog: Some random person from Brazil.
Since the only thing I know about Brazil is that it is full of transvestites, I can only assume that our visitor was a tranny. I have to wonder then what a transvestite might have found of interest in our blog. The imagination runs wild.
Bobbie is paranoid. She'd said and done things before that should have clued me in, but it really occurred to me this week just how paranoid she is. I think I probably mentioned this last summer, but one of the first things Bobbie ever told me was about "that Mexican over there in the trailer park dressin' in women's clothes and lookin' in my window." I know I mentioned how she had rolled up paper and stuffed it in her peephole. She's afraid people are spying on her through it. This week she came to me and went off on one of her long multiply tangential rants about everything under the sun, but in the midst of all the nonsense, I noticed her again focusing on the idea that people are wanting to look in on her through her bedroom window.
Aw-fun or Awf-tun? It grates on me when people abuse the English language, but I should admit a dialectical bias when I decide who I believe to be correct. Naturally, everyone from Colorado is right. So lately, I've been noticing every time I hear someone pronounce "often" sans the "t" sound. I don't do this. The "t" is in the word so it should be pronounced. There is no such thing as a silent "t" in this type of construction. But then Anna tells me that in voice lessons she was instructed to sing "often" without the "t" sound. I thought to myself, "self, how can educated people instruct their students to abuse the English language so?" But, I reasoned, this is the same voice teacher who pronounces "larynx" as "lair-in-ix." I tried to forget about it, but I couldn't escape people saying "awfun." So I looked it up, and to my surprise, the preferred pronunciation in the dictionary is "aw-fun." How could this be?!?! This is wrong! I did more reading. It turns out that the "t" was lost sometime between the 15th and 17th centuries as speakers got lazy. The lazy intellectuals of the 17th century decided that was alright by them so "aw-fun" became standard. When people in the 19th rediscovered the concept of spelling, they also rediscovered the "t" in "often." I suppose that it makes sense then for classically trained singers to sing "aw-fun" because that's how the composers of those songs heard it, but any pedant who tries to tell me that "awf-tun" is incorrect will get a swift kick in the balls.
Apparently Darbie hardly sleeps at night. She looks half dead each time she comes into the office so I've taken to asking her when she went to bed. Most nights as it turns out, she doesn't go to bed until three or four in the morning, and she has to get up at five to make the bus. I guess she does most of her sleeping on the bus ride to and from school.
Two more toilet paper rolls can be chalked up to Daisy's casualty list.
Our car has started to really idle funny this week. I took it to Autozone so they could get the computer readout from the car. It turns out that we have a bad O2 sensor. For those of you unfamiliar with an O2 sensor, it monitors the amount of oxygen in the exhaust system of the car and determines from this information what the mix of fuel and air should be in the engine. With the sensor out, the mix in the engine is off and ta-da, a sputtering engine. Hopefully, I can take it in on Monday.
I'm hungry.
Daisy has a nasty looking scabbed over spot on her neck, under her chin. I think we're going to have to stick her in a "cone of shame" until it heals.
Yesterday was tax day. Boo.
On Wednesday, Jennings County was filled with excitement over the arrival of the "Girls Gone Wild" bus in North Vernon. Facebook was filled with all sorts of commentary on the subject. Status updates ranged from fears that certain people's own mothers might end up on video to those wondering if they were doing a special series of "Meth-heads Gone Wild" to those who were tempted to buy this particular video just to see of they graduated with anyone on it. The general consensus was that North Vernon was about the stupidest place for the bus to go and expect to find attractive girls willing to expose themselves. My personal theory is that they are going for the corruption of mid-western goody two-shoes farm girls angle after spending so long on the beaches of California and Florida.
People who read this blog: Some random person from Brazil.
Since the only thing I know about Brazil is that it is full of transvestites, I can only assume that our visitor was a tranny. I have to wonder then what a transvestite might have found of interest in our blog. The imagination runs wild.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Fish
Anna sang at Bob's funeral on Thursday (Noah, Abby, and Elizabeth's grandfather). He had requested that Anna and her father sing the songs "Jesus, Lover of My Soul" and "Heaven." Anna didn't know "Heaven" so her dad sang that one alone.
The family cried during the funeral, but aside from that, I was very surprised at how upbeat everyone was. On the surface at least, they appeared to be at peace with his death and fully possessed with "the peace that passes all understanding." I wish I had faith like that.
Cade's parents were trying to make him understand what had happened to Bob, and apparently, he didn't quite seem to understand. But when they told him they were going to his funeral, Cade did offer up this little tidbit of wisdom, "Well, Bob won't have to pray anymore. Now he can just go talk to Jesus."
Anna's fish, Con, died the other day. I don't know if any of you remember Con. Anna got her during her sophomore year, but she kept the fish at her parent's house when she lived in Delta.
I've noticed something about Indiana pot-lucks (or as they call it, "pitch-ins"). Hoosiers eat a lot of yellow food. Everything is full of cheese or corn. There are usually multiple mac & cheese offerings and various corn breads and cheesy potato dishes. I told Anna that we don't see that much yellow food in Colorado. Sure, we make corn bread but only when we eat chili. Sure, we might add cheese to mashed potatoes occasionally, but that's not the only way we eat them. Sure, mac & cheese exists, but only kids eat it. Yes, we always have deviled eggs, but we never ever ever has as many different deviled egg offerings as I see here.
Speaking of food. Anna's parents had several people from church over for lunch on Sunday. I made a cheesecake. We ate food. We digested food. Everyone was entertained watching Hank play fetch.
On Wednesday, I had just gotten done in the office when my phone started ringing. It was my boss. She was outside the front door of the building and needed me to let her in. I had no idea she was coming. She told me that she was in the area and thought she'd stop by. I'm not sure that's entirely true. Perhaps she was afraid that I was running some sort of illegal operation out of the complex?
She walked around the building and took note of different things that could be cleaned up a bit. She also told me that they had been getting more complaints from someone saying that her mother's porch light was out and that I wouldn't fix it. The problem with that is that the residents have control over their porch lights, and if they don't come and tell me one is out, I have no way of knowing whether or not they have it turned on.
I made chicken fried steak tonight.
Blue.
I need to take a shower.
Daisy has eaten three rolls of toilet paper in the past week. She also continues to destroy the kitchen rug. She is a bad bad dog.
Chief is in his customary spot under the futon.
The Rockies are 3-3 after one week of baseball. They could easily be 5-1. There's a saying in baseball that you can't win the division in April, but you sure can lose it. It's games like the 14 inning loss the other night that could come back to haunt us.
ESPN has the Rockies 14th in its power rankings. I'm okay with that. They haven't looked as good as they should. They have certainly made far more errors that are acceptable.
The Rockies play the Reds in Cincinnati in June. I'd like to catch two out of three of those games.
We got a stake to tie Daisy outside when we sit out there. I like sharing a pleasant evening with my wife on our patio.
You have no idea how glad I am that baseball has returned. No only can I root for the Rockies again, but I can stand to watch ESPN. I can't wait until basketball and hockey are gone. But then again, that means that it'll be the soccer world cup which is going to be awful.
Do you like soccer? You are a loser. Soccer is beyond stupid. I hate you.
Don't you guys miss Anna posting in this blog? Please leave a comment to encourage her to start posting again.
The family cried during the funeral, but aside from that, I was very surprised at how upbeat everyone was. On the surface at least, they appeared to be at peace with his death and fully possessed with "the peace that passes all understanding." I wish I had faith like that.
Cade's parents were trying to make him understand what had happened to Bob, and apparently, he didn't quite seem to understand. But when they told him they were going to his funeral, Cade did offer up this little tidbit of wisdom, "Well, Bob won't have to pray anymore. Now he can just go talk to Jesus."
Anna's fish, Con, died the other day. I don't know if any of you remember Con. Anna got her during her sophomore year, but she kept the fish at her parent's house when she lived in Delta.
I've noticed something about Indiana pot-lucks (or as they call it, "pitch-ins"). Hoosiers eat a lot of yellow food. Everything is full of cheese or corn. There are usually multiple mac & cheese offerings and various corn breads and cheesy potato dishes. I told Anna that we don't see that much yellow food in Colorado. Sure, we make corn bread but only when we eat chili. Sure, we might add cheese to mashed potatoes occasionally, but that's not the only way we eat them. Sure, mac & cheese exists, but only kids eat it. Yes, we always have deviled eggs, but we never ever ever has as many different deviled egg offerings as I see here.
Speaking of food. Anna's parents had several people from church over for lunch on Sunday. I made a cheesecake. We ate food. We digested food. Everyone was entertained watching Hank play fetch.
On Wednesday, I had just gotten done in the office when my phone started ringing. It was my boss. She was outside the front door of the building and needed me to let her in. I had no idea she was coming. She told me that she was in the area and thought she'd stop by. I'm not sure that's entirely true. Perhaps she was afraid that I was running some sort of illegal operation out of the complex?
She walked around the building and took note of different things that could be cleaned up a bit. She also told me that they had been getting more complaints from someone saying that her mother's porch light was out and that I wouldn't fix it. The problem with that is that the residents have control over their porch lights, and if they don't come and tell me one is out, I have no way of knowing whether or not they have it turned on.
I made chicken fried steak tonight.
Blue.
I need to take a shower.
Daisy has eaten three rolls of toilet paper in the past week. She also continues to destroy the kitchen rug. She is a bad bad dog.
Chief is in his customary spot under the futon.
The Rockies are 3-3 after one week of baseball. They could easily be 5-1. There's a saying in baseball that you can't win the division in April, but you sure can lose it. It's games like the 14 inning loss the other night that could come back to haunt us.
ESPN has the Rockies 14th in its power rankings. I'm okay with that. They haven't looked as good as they should. They have certainly made far more errors that are acceptable.
The Rockies play the Reds in Cincinnati in June. I'd like to catch two out of three of those games.
We got a stake to tie Daisy outside when we sit out there. I like sharing a pleasant evening with my wife on our patio.
You have no idea how glad I am that baseball has returned. No only can I root for the Rockies again, but I can stand to watch ESPN. I can't wait until basketball and hockey are gone. But then again, that means that it'll be the soccer world cup which is going to be awful.
Do you like soccer? You are a loser. Soccer is beyond stupid. I hate you.
Don't you guys miss Anna posting in this blog? Please leave a comment to encourage her to start posting again.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Leftover Candy
Anna met Darbie today. She brought Daisy along. Daisy likes anyone who will pet her.
Darbie kept falling asleep in her chair. If Anna and I weren't directly talking to her she'd start dozing off.
Due to the third (the day most residents pay their rent) falling on a Saturday, I had to collect most tenants' rent yesterday.
When Beulah was in to pay her rent, she wanted to know if Bobbie had been talking to me about her. I guess she's afraid Bobbie is trying to get her kicked out of the apartment because she has a foul mouth. But Beulah assured me, "I haven't been cussin' that much. I just cuss when I need to."
James' physical therapist called 911 for him today. It sounds to me like he might have had a small stroke. The paramedics wheeled him out of the building on a gurney.
The Rockies are currently down to the Brewers 3-4. If they don't win this game, their entire season will be ruined.
I'm so happy that baseball has returned. Now I can stand to watch ESPN again.
Anna and I went to Rural King tonight and bought a stake and a chain so we don't have to hold onto Daisy's leash when we sit outside.
We also got some Frontline for her. She gets fleas from spending time with Hank and Lucy.
We gave her a bath last night, but she still smells like the pond.
Now the game is 3-5. Our season is doomed.
Remember that kids that Anna and I took to the zoo and the children's museum? Their grandfather died last night. He and his wife have been friends of Anna's parents for years. It was completely expected, and at this point, it was more of a relief to the family than anything. He had been given six months to live two years ago. Fortunately, he stayed in pretty decent health (for a dying man) up until the last month or two.
The funeral is Thursday. They want Anna and her father to sing a song.
I had a dream that I was staying in a house that was next to the landing strip of a super secret military base, and top secret planes kept landing there at night. One plane even crashed right next to the house and was quickly surrounded by special agents.
Bobbie came by the office today and said that I hadn't given her the receipt for her rent. I distinctly remembered giving it to her, but I wrote her out a new one anyway. She came back fifteen minutes later to tell me that she had found the one I gave her yesterday.
Anna and I were telling Darbie about George's floozies when, right on cue, two very creepy looking ladies came to see him. I had never seen this particular pair before, but they thoroughly reinforced my belief that real prostitutes are never as pretty as they are in the movies.
It's still 3-5, but the Rockies appear to be rallying. Unfortunately, I'm done writing in here, so you my faithful readers and (of course) fellow Rockies fans shall just have to check for yourself what happens.
Darbie kept falling asleep in her chair. If Anna and I weren't directly talking to her she'd start dozing off.
Due to the third (the day most residents pay their rent) falling on a Saturday, I had to collect most tenants' rent yesterday.
When Beulah was in to pay her rent, she wanted to know if Bobbie had been talking to me about her. I guess she's afraid Bobbie is trying to get her kicked out of the apartment because she has a foul mouth. But Beulah assured me, "I haven't been cussin' that much. I just cuss when I need to."
James' physical therapist called 911 for him today. It sounds to me like he might have had a small stroke. The paramedics wheeled him out of the building on a gurney.
The Rockies are currently down to the Brewers 3-4. If they don't win this game, their entire season will be ruined.
I'm so happy that baseball has returned. Now I can stand to watch ESPN again.
Anna and I went to Rural King tonight and bought a stake and a chain so we don't have to hold onto Daisy's leash when we sit outside.
We also got some Frontline for her. She gets fleas from spending time with Hank and Lucy.
We gave her a bath last night, but she still smells like the pond.
Now the game is 3-5. Our season is doomed.
Remember that kids that Anna and I took to the zoo and the children's museum? Their grandfather died last night. He and his wife have been friends of Anna's parents for years. It was completely expected, and at this point, it was more of a relief to the family than anything. He had been given six months to live two years ago. Fortunately, he stayed in pretty decent health (for a dying man) up until the last month or two.
The funeral is Thursday. They want Anna and her father to sing a song.
I had a dream that I was staying in a house that was next to the landing strip of a super secret military base, and top secret planes kept landing there at night. One plane even crashed right next to the house and was quickly surrounded by special agents.
Bobbie came by the office today and said that I hadn't given her the receipt for her rent. I distinctly remembered giving it to her, but I wrote her out a new one anyway. She came back fifteen minutes later to tell me that she had found the one I gave her yesterday.
Anna and I were telling Darbie about George's floozies when, right on cue, two very creepy looking ladies came to see him. I had never seen this particular pair before, but they thoroughly reinforced my belief that real prostitutes are never as pretty as they are in the movies.
It's still 3-5, but the Rockies appear to be rallying. Unfortunately, I'm done writing in here, so you my faithful readers and (of course) fellow Rockies fans shall just have to check for yourself what happens.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Good Friday
It is not "happy" Friday, but it is "good."
Daisy decided to experiment with eating horse crap yesterday.
I closed the office today.
Yesterday, George gave me a money order for rent with the tens and ones spots reversed. So instead of 97, it said 79. He came by tonight with twenty bucks to cover the eighteen he still owed.
My mom tells me that Kirsten is already planning her wedding. I guess this does make some sense though they aren't planning on getting married until they graduate (in two more years). I just feel weird about it. To me Kirsten is still fourteen like she was when I was a senior in high school and still at home.
Kirsten is dating an Oompa Loompa or just a really short guy who tries to compensate for his vertical deficiency by working out all the time. Sadly, Kirsten believes that all this working out has made her man stronger than her own brother. She just doesn't understand that no matter how strong he is, at his height it is anatomically impossible for him to be as strong as I am. I am tempted to crush him, just so Kirsten can find a boyfriend who shows fewer teeth when he smiles.
I guess Kirsten has big ideas for her wedding. In fact it sounds like just renting a place for the reception might cost more than our entire wedding combined.
This is a shout out to Jana. She is sick right now. Even though she is an evil communist, I would like you all to pray that she gets better.
I need to replace the bulb in our right brake lamp. I have the bulbs. I just keep forgetting.
There was a come-and-go communion service at the church tonight. In total, six people came to take communion.
Today I walked through the hallway just after Katie had passed by, and I was again astounded by how the scent of cigarette smoke can hang in the air.
Random people still visit this blog. The problem is I am not sure how some of them are finding it, so I don't know what to say about them. And I am too lazy tonight to try to create something out of thin air.
Daisy decided to experiment with eating horse crap yesterday.
I closed the office today.
Yesterday, George gave me a money order for rent with the tens and ones spots reversed. So instead of 97, it said 79. He came by tonight with twenty bucks to cover the eighteen he still owed.
My mom tells me that Kirsten is already planning her wedding. I guess this does make some sense though they aren't planning on getting married until they graduate (in two more years). I just feel weird about it. To me Kirsten is still fourteen like she was when I was a senior in high school and still at home.
Kirsten is dating an Oompa Loompa or just a really short guy who tries to compensate for his vertical deficiency by working out all the time. Sadly, Kirsten believes that all this working out has made her man stronger than her own brother. She just doesn't understand that no matter how strong he is, at his height it is anatomically impossible for him to be as strong as I am. I am tempted to crush him, just so Kirsten can find a boyfriend who shows fewer teeth when he smiles.
I guess Kirsten has big ideas for her wedding. In fact it sounds like just renting a place for the reception might cost more than our entire wedding combined.
This is a shout out to Jana. She is sick right now. Even though she is an evil communist, I would like you all to pray that she gets better.
I need to replace the bulb in our right brake lamp. I have the bulbs. I just keep forgetting.
There was a come-and-go communion service at the church tonight. In total, six people came to take communion.
Today I walked through the hallway just after Katie had passed by, and I was again astounded by how the scent of cigarette smoke can hang in the air.
Random people still visit this blog. The problem is I am not sure how some of them are finding it, so I don't know what to say about them. And I am too lazy tonight to try to create something out of thin air.
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