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black rim paint touch up Related Articles

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black rim paint touch up Post Review

To anyone who cared, here’s the damage the Yotemobile sustained yesterday. Not bad at all.

Fixed my rim! Anyone need to paint/touch up rims/callipers holla! #rims #touchup #black #rust #nomore http://instagr.am/p/Q7nJidraoC/

@procompusa I own set of your 89 Series Kore Matte Black 7089-6883 and have few scratches. Do you sell touch up paint to match that matte black color of rim please?

A bumper I’d attempt to save at work, the black stuff is paint transfer and the white is just clear coat valleys. Acetone and buffable. A little bit of touch up to manufactures code near the headlight and fog light rim and it should look ok!

Anybody know where I can find matte black touch up rim paint?? Damn you Rally's...and your slim ass drive thru!

Hi @MINI got a little curb rash on my black rim! Do you sell special touch up paint/kits for that?

I need a real good glossy black rim touch up paint. Anyone got any ideas??? Link me @ShoutGamers @Quickest_Rts

Those are really the basic and rather cheaper options you should have. All work well and I use them on my rentals, so they hold up well. If you have white leather, let it in early with this product i can send, black is fine, use VRP Vinyl...let that soak in.

For Black Aero wheels, get this to cover for hopefully never happening rim damage! Dupli-Color AFM0360 Dark Shadow Gray Ford Exact-Match Scratch Fix All-in-1 Touch-Up Paint - 0.5 oz. Sand it down slightly and paint it.

black rim paint touch up Q&A Review

How do I fix curb rash on black rims?

Plasti-dip. Touch-up paint would also work.

What is the best automatic car wash for my car? Regular or touchless? Are the extras like undercarriage washes, wheel cleaning or spray-on wax worth it?

So I am a manager at an automatic wash, so my opinion will be slightly biased. I have a pretty deep understanding of the chemistry at both the automatic and touchless washes. Lots of people feel that the touchless washes are the way to go since the automatic ones will eventually leave swirls in your paint (which is only partly true but I’ll get to that in a moment). The only problem with the touchless washes is the chemistry. The way they clean cars is completely different. We combine Chemistry and what we call Mechanical Action (the physical brushes). Touchless washes only use Chemistry. Since they don’t have the benefit of Mechanical Action, they have to use ,significantly, harsher chemicals than we do. Over time, this will deteriorate your clear coat, stain the rims, and seemingly bleach out the hard plastic trim pieces on your car. The choice between the two also has something to do with the condition of your car when you bring it in. Is it covered in mud? Maybe go with a touchless over an automatic so it doesn't rub the grit into your paint (however, you’d be safe with a Mister automatic… One of the first chemicals to go on your car is a lubricant, and our first set of brushes are made out of what we call NeoGlide, which is basically just slippery foam. It helps push the dirt off without holding it in the cloth and rubbing it into your paint). Your traditional automatic won’t have these things, so you are going to run into issues if you continually bring your car in covered in mud. As far as the add-ons? I swear by them. And I’ll address them one by one (keep in mind that this only applies to Misters). The undercarriage wash is more of a rinse than anything else. We couldn't use a full blown pressure washer down there or we’d damage electronics, but it is useful for rinsing off road grime, salt, or mud out from under your car. Having cleaned the tunnel 100’s of times, I can tell you that that is the dirtiest section of the tunnel, just because it removes so much filth from the underside of cars that people don't even know is there. Wheel cleaning comes in all of our packages down to the basic, so I’ll address what we call Wheel Polish (only available in our Platinum, which is the top package). Basically, this is a sacrificial silicone-based polymer layer that is just meant to give your rims a slightly wet look, and it also keeps a layer between your rim and brake dust (which makes it significantly easier to clean. And since every car gets the same attention, it means that you should have immaculately clean wheels every time you come through without needing to touch up certain areas). And finally, my favorite, our wax, the area in which my company has set the standard for the industry. Recognize this? We started this. And yes, this makes a massive difference. One, it's going to shine longer, and two, it's going to give it another sacrificial layer to protect your paint and make it easier to clean next time. On sunny days, you can look down the line of freshly washed cars and see who got wax and who didn't. Its that big of a difference. Also, it makes things like bugs and road tar so much easier to clean off, since those things would be stuck to our wax and not your clear coat. I said I would get to the problem of swirls in your paint. Our washes mitigate this issue as much as we possibly can, but its part of the wear of the vehicle. Handwashing is worse for it than taking it to a Mister, since at home you probably don't have a cleaning lubricant and NeoGlide brushes to push off the grit before you clean. The issue is the vehicles that only get the wax-less washes every time. Even if you take 3 ply toilet paper and wipe your car in the same spot 1,000’s of times, you’ll start to see marks. The only way to effectively mitigate this completely is to either keep a coat of hand wax on it or to get our wax. Either way, you have to have something between your clear coat and the grit that it encounters every day. I’ll give an anecdote to illustrate: We have a regular customer named Mr. Jackson. He’s been coming 3 times a week for six years (Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays). He is retired and loves to detail his truck every single time he comes in (the inside, I mean. He lets us take care of the outside). He has a black Ford F150 and gets the wash with the wax every single time he comes in. His paint is in immaculate condition. You’d be hard pressed to find any issues with it anywhere, even though he takes it to one of those “horrible automatic washes that scratch your paint” 3 days out of the week. That’s roughly in the neighborhood of 972 washes without ANY issues. I wish I had pictures of his truck to post, but I won't see him till Saturday. Anyways, I hope my answer has given you an insight into processes and chemicals behind a car wash. There’s a lot more to it than I think most people realize.

What’s the most appropriate response to someone who does not legally allow merging drivers onto the highway by not moving over to the other lane?

Go to your local auto parts store and purchase the following: 6 cans light grey primer 2 cans white primer 2 cans black primer 2 cans dark grey primer (if available) 2 rolls blue painters tape Newspaper Now, go out to your driveway and wash your car with dishwashing soap. This will not only strip dirt, but also any wax on the paint, we want clean clean. Next, cover all windows, headlights, taillights, turn signals, license plates, really anything you want to remain clear/original, with newspaper, adhering with the tape. It's also not a bad idea to throw something over your tires and rims. Shake the first can of grey primer and begin applying to the front, as can empties, shake and use the next. We want a nice, even coat of primer over everything. Allow primer to dry until no longer wet. Start with black and start adding blobs here and there. Stand back and make sure your blobs wrap around corners so the outline of the vehicle is broken up well. Repeat with white primer and the dark grey if it was available. Stand back, admire your work, touch up with grey, black and white as needed. Some people like to add random dots here and there too. Remove newspaper and tape, a new razor blade works great to get paint overspray off GLASS. Do NOT try scraping overspread off other surfaces with a razor, no bueno. Now if you really want to go hog wild, use some acrylic paint and stencil the phrase “Freeway Tag” on the rear window, border the letters in red or orange paint so it’s super visible, being sure to leave enough room so you can actually see out the back. Allow everything to dry at least overnight. Go drive on the freeway. If peoples reactions to your crazy paint job is the same as mine was, they will happily apply brakes and let you over as soon as they see your turn signal. Be brave, if they don't want to yield, keep right on merging, sooner or later they’ll realize that they really don't want to find out what sort of maniac drives a vehicle painted in an urban camoflage pattern. I drove in LA when I did this to my 1972 Ford Gran Torino and people ALWAYS gave me room to move over. Stopping by your local Army Surplus store and buying a BDU shirt to wear whilst driving only enhances the experience. Note: Doing the above is not reversable. You can NOT do this then wash it back off next weekend. This is permenent automotive primer you are using. I should also mention that your finance or lease company may not be as excited with your new look as you and I are.

What are the most unknown facts on the Second World War?

Lucy Ash presents a harrowing account in an article she wrote for the BBC. “Dusk is falling in Treptower Park on the outskirts of Berlin and I am looking up at a statue dramatically outlined against a lilac sky. Twelve metres (40ft) high, it depicts a Soviet soldier grasping a sword in one hand and a small German girl in the other, and stamping on a broken swastika. “This is the final resting place for 5,000 of the 80,000 Soviet troops who fell in the Battle of Berlin between 16 April and 2 May 1945. “The colossal proportions of the monument reflect the scale of the sacrifice. At the top of a long flight of steps, you can peer into the base of the statue, which is lit up like a religious shrine. An inscription saying that the Soviet people saved European civilisation from fascism catches my eye. “But some call this memorial the Tomb of the Unknown Rapist. “Stalin's troops assaulted an uncounted number of women as they fought their way to the German capital, though this was rarely mentioned after the war in Germany - West or East - and is a taboo subject in Russia even today. “The Russian media regularly dismiss talk of the rapes as a Western myth, though one of many sources that tells the story of what happened is a diary kept by a young Soviet officer. Image copyrightVITALY GELFAND “Vladimir Gelfand, a young Jewish lieutenant from central Ukraine, wrote with extraordinary frankness from 1941 through to the end of the war, despite the Soviet military's ban on diaries, which were seen as a security risk. “The so far unpublished manuscript paints a picture of disarray in the regular battalions - miserable rations, lice, routine anti-Semitism and theft, with men even stealing their comrades' boots. “In February 1945, Gelfand was stationed by the Oder River dam, preparing for the final push on Berlin, and he describes how his comrades surrounded and overpowered a battalion of women fighters. "The captured German female cats declared they were avenging their dead husbands," he writes. "They must be destroyed without mercy. Our soldiers suggest stabbing them through their genitals but I would just execute them." “It gets worse. “One of the most revealing passages in Gelfand's diary is dated 25 April, once he had reached Berlin. Gelfand was whirling around on a bicycle by the River Spree, the first time he'd ever ridden one, when he came across a group of German women carrying suitcases and bundles. Image copyrightVITALY GELFAND “In broken German, he asked them where they were going and why they had left their homes. "With horror on their faces, they told me what had happened on the first night of the Red Army's arrival," he writes. "'They poked here,' explained the beautiful German girl, lifting up her skirt, 'all night. They were old, some were covered in pimples and they all climbed on me and poked - no less than 20 men,' she burst into tears. "'They raped my daughter in front of me,' her poor mother added, 'and they can still come back and rape her again.' This thought horrified everyone. "'Stay here,' the girl suddenly threw herself at me, 'sleep with me! You can do whatever you want with me, but only you!'" “By this stage, German soldiers had been guilty of sexual violence and other horrors in the Soviet Union for almost four years, as Gelfand had become aware as he fought his way to Berlin. "He went through so many villages in which the Nazis had killed everyone, even small children. And he saw evidence of rape," says his son, Vitaly. Image captionVitaly Gelfand discovered his father's diary after he died “The Wehrmacht was supposedly a well-ordered force of Aryans who would never contemplate sex with ,untermenschen,. “But the ban was ignored, says Oleg Budnitsky, a historian at the Higher School of Economics in Moscow. Nazi commanders were in fact so concerned about venereal disease that they established a chain of military brothels throughout the occupied territories. “It's hard to find direct evidence of how the German soldiers treated Russian women - many victims never survived - but in the German-Russian Museum in Berlin, director Jorg Morre shows me a photograph taken in Crimea from a German soldier's personal wartime album. A woman's corpse is sprawled on the ground. "It looks like she was killed by raping, or after the rape. Her skirt is pulled up and the hands are in front of the face," he says. "It's a shocking photo. We had discussions in the museum, should we show the photos - this is war, this is sexual violence under German policy in the Soviet Union. We are showing war. Not talking about war but showing it." “As the Red Army advanced into what the Soviet press called "the lair of the fascist beast" posters encouraged troops to show their anger: "Soldier: You are now on German soil. The hour of revenge has struck!" Image copyrightGETTY IMAGES “In fact, the political department of the 19th Army, which fought its way into Germany along the Baltic Coast, declared that a true Soviet soldier would be so full of hatred that he would be repulsed by sex with Germans. But once again soldiers proved the ideologists wrong. “While researching his 2002 book, Berlin, The Downfall, historian Antony Beevor found documents about sexual violence in the state archive of the Russian Federation. They were sent by the NKVD, the secret police, to their boss, Lavrentiy Beria, in late 1944. "These were passed on to Stalin," says Beevor. "You can actually see from the ticks whether they've been read or not - and they report on the mass rapes in East Prussia and the way that German women would try to kill their children, and kill themselves, to avoid such a fate." “Another wartime diary, this time kept by the fiancee of an absent German soldier, shows that some women adapted to the appalling circumstances, in order to survive. “Starting on 20 April 1945, 10 days before Hitler's suicide, the anonymous author is, like Vladimir Gelfand, brutally honest, with razor-sharp powers of observation and occasional flashes of gallows humour. “Describing herself as "a pale-faced blonde always dressed in the same winter coat", the diarist paints vivid pictures of her neighbours in the bomb shelter beneath her Berlin apartment block, including a "young man in grey trousers and horn-rimmed glasses who on closer inspection turns out to be a young woman" and three elderly sisters, "all dressmakers, huddled together like a big black pudding". Image copyrightGERMAN-RUSSIAN MUSEUM Image captionSoviet soldiers distribute food in Berlin, in May 1945 (photograph: Timofey Melnik) “As they await the arrival of the Red Army, they joke "better a Russky on top than a Yank overhead" - rape is preferable to being pulverised by bombs. But when the soldiers reach their basement and try to haul women out, they beg the diarist to use her Russian language skills and complain to the Soviet command. “Braving the chaos on the rubble strewn streets, she manages to find a senior officer. He shrugs his shoulders. Despite Stalin's decree banning violence against civilians, he says, "It happens anyway." “The officer returns to the cellar with her and reprimands the soldiers, but one is seething with fury. "'What do you mean? What did the Germans do to our women!' He is screaming: 'They took my sister and…' The officer calms the man down and gets them outside." “But when the diarist steps back into the corridor to check they have gone, the men have been lying in wait and grab her. She is brutally raped and nearly strangled. The terrified neighbours, or "cave dwellers" as she calls them, had slammed the basement door shut. "Finally the two iron levers open. Everyone stares at me," she writes. "My stockings are down to my shoes, I'm still holding on to what's left of my suspender belt. I start yelling 'You pigs! Here they rape me twice in a row and you leave me lying like a piece of dirt!'" “Eventually the diarist realises that she needs to find one "wolf" to stave off gang rape by the "male beasts". The relationship between aggressor and victim becomes less violent, more transactional - and more ambiguous. She shares her bed with a senior officer from Leningrad with whom she discusses literature and the meaning of life. "By no means could it be said that the major is raping me," she writes. "Am I doing it for bacon, butter, sugar, candles, canned meat? To some extent I'm sure I am. In addition, I like the major and the less he wants from me as a man, the more I like him as a person." “Many of the diarist's neighbours made similar deals with the conquerors in the ruins of Berlin. “When the diary was published in German in 1959 under the title A Woman in Berlin, the author's frank account of the choices she made to survive was attacked for "besmirching the honour" of German women. Not surprisingly, she refused to allow the book to be republished until after her death. “Seventy years after the end of the war, new research on sexual violence committed by all the Allied forces - American, British and French as well as Soviet - is still emerging. But for years the subject slid under the official radar. Few reported it and even fewer would listen. “Besides the social stigma, in East Germany it was sacrilegious to criticise Soviet heroes who had defeated fascism while across the Wall in the West, the guilt for Nazi crimes made German suffering unmentionable. “But in 2008, there was a film adaptation of the Berlin Woman's diary called Anonyma, starring the well-known German actress Nina Hoss. The film had a cathartic effect in Germany and encouraged many women to come forward, including Ingeborg Bullert. Ingeborg, aged 90, now lives in Hamburg in a flat filled with photos of cats and books about the theatre. She was 20 in 1945, dreamed of becoming an actress and lived with her mother in an upmarket street in Berlin's Charlottenberg district. “When the Soviet assault on the city began, like the woman diarist, she took refuge in the cellar of her building. "Suddenly there were tanks in our street and everywhere the bodies of Russian and German soldiers", she recalls. "I remember the dreadful whining sound made by those Russian bombs - we called them Stalinorgels (Stalin organs)." “During a lull in the air raid, Ingeborg left the cellar and ran upstairs to look for a piece of string to use as a wick for a lamp. "Suddenly there were two Russians pointing their pistols at me," she says. "One of them forced me to expose myself and raped me, and then they changed places and the other one raped me as well. I thought I would die, that they would kill me." “Ingeborg didn't talk about her ordeal at the time, or for decades afterwards - she said it was too difficult. "My mother liked to boast that her daughter hadn't been touched," she says. “But the rapes had affected women in households across Berlin. Ingeborg recalls that women between the ages of 15 and 55 were ordered to get tested for sexually transmitted diseases. "You needed the medical certificate to get the food stamps and I remember that all the doctors doing these certificates, had waiting rooms full of women." “What was the scale of the rapes? The most often quoted number is a staggering 100,000 women in Berlin and two million on German territory. That figure - hotly debated - was extrapolated from scant surviving medical records. “In a former munitions factory which now houses the State Archive, Martin Luchterhand shows me an armful of blue cardboard folders. These contain abortion records dated July to October 1945 from Neukolln, just one of Berlin's 24 districts - it's a small miracle that they survived intact. “Abortions were illegal in Germany according to Article 218 of the penal code, but Luchterhand says "there was a small window for those women because of that special situation of the mass rapes in 1945". Image copyrightDOROTHY FEAVER I Image copyrightDOROTHY FEAVER “Altogether 995 pleas for abortion were approved by this one district office in Berlin office between June 1945 to 1946. The files contain over 1,000 fragile scraps of paper of different colours and sizes. In childish round handwriting, one girl testifies that she was assaulted in the living room of her home in front of her parents. “We will probably never know the true scale of the rapes. Soviet military tribunals and other sources remain classified. The Russian parliament recently passed a law which says that anyone who denigrates Russia's record in World War Two could face fines and up to five years in prison. “Vera Dubina, a young historian at the University of Humanities in Moscow, says she knew nothing of the rapes until a scholarship took her to Berlin. She later wrote a paper on the subject but struggled to get it published. "The Russian media reacted very aggressively," she says. "People only want to hear about our glorious victory in the Great Patriotic War and now it is getting harder to do proper research." “It's the fate of history to be rewritten to suit the agenda of the present. That's why first-hand accounts are so valuable - from those who brave the subject now, in their old age, and from those younger voices who put pencil to paper on the spot. “Vitaly Gelfand, son of the Red Army diarist Vladimir Gelfand, doesn't deny that many Soviet soldiers showed great bravery and sacrifice in World War Two - but that's not the whole story, he says. “Recently Vitaly did an interview on Russian radio, which triggered some anti-Semitic trolling on social media, saying the diary's a fake and he should clear off to Israel (he has in fact lived in Berlin for the last 20 years). Yet he is hoping the diary will be published in Russia later this year. Parts of it have been translated into German and Swedish. "If people don't want to know the truth, they're just deluding themselves", he says. "The entire world understands it, Russia understands it and the people behind those new laws about defaming the past, even they understand it. We can't move forward until we look back.”” The rape of Berlin

As a visitor from abroad, what shocked you the most about India?

I would like to give a thoughtful answer to this question. The word "shock" usually has a negative connotation, as in, a disturbing or upsetting surprise, rather than a positive one. Here is a list of things that have shocked me in India. Poverty and Homelessness I had never seen abject poverty before coming to India. I remember driving into Paharganj from the Delhi airport in the dead of night. There are countless large jute sacks strewn by the sides of the road, and I am thinking, Are they potato sacks? Then, after a while, it dawns on me that they are people, homeless people, wrapped in whatever they could find, in sacks. I had never seen so many homeless people in my life. They were legion. How did they all become homeless? How did they survive? Did they even survive? That first visit was in around 2004. Unfortunately, they didn't all survive. My heart goes out to them. ,33,000 homeless people died on Delhi streets since 2004: Government report - Times of India Beggars, Deformed People, Lepers It is dawn. A new day. I am giddy with excitement. I am grateful to be in India. I walk outside of the guest-house. I am happy. A river of people flows through the street. There are women wearing dazzlingly colorful saris. There are moustached men in kurtas or shirts and trousers. A man with matted-hair and a saffron robe, a circle of vermillion covering most of his forehead, trudges onwards, a gnarled walking staff in his hand, his feet unshod. A group of children wearing rags runs at me and encircles me. They all reach out their hands. Their faces are grimy, their lips cracked. They want money. I don't have any local currency yet. They don't leave me when I tell them that. They follow me for a while, nagging, tugging, pestering. Some of them might have even been abducted. Some might be organized by the "beggar mafia". ,Begging mafia in India thrives on lost children | The National This happens again and again. Beggars. On every street corner. Accosting me. Knocking on the taxi window when it stops at the intersection. Not taking no for an answer. Touching me. It is hard not to lose my cool, to get upset. Later I see a man dragging himself on the ground, his knees callused grey, holding a withered palm up for donations. And there's another one, bent and walking on all fours, lumbering like a mule, his wrists misshapen, fixed in an unnatural angle. A boy with a shrivelled, atrophied leg is limping on a crutch. A disturbing current of electricity rises from my feet to my chest at the sight of their deformities. And, down the street… ,Is that a leper? Where are her fingers? ,She waves a pair of stumps at me. Her clouded eyes, opaque and cataracted, are massive under thick glasses. Her face is wrinkled and grey like the skin of an elephant. ,I thought leprosy was cured, a thing of the past! ,And, although there are cures today, ,more than half of new leprosy cases each year are diagnosed in India,. Staring A man, loitering in a corner, stares at me. I smile and nod. His expression does not change. Is he angry with me? Does he need something? I raise an eyebrow. His expression does not change. I shrug and ignore him. This happens again, and again. Even though I don't look very exotic--some have even told me I appear somewhat Kashmiri--I am stared at, almost wherever I go. With time I learn to ignore this. And years later, after I learn Hindi, I even joke around with them, poking fun at them. But fresh out of the flight, it is unsettling. Waste A huge family is having a picnic on the river bank. I am in Himachal Pradesh, a beautiful land of rivers and mountains and tall and proud coniferous trees. They are celebrating something. There must be at least thirty or thirty-five of them. I am with a friend, a little ways off, on a hillock, observing their merrymaking. They are eating with single-use plates and utensils, plastic. When they are done they get up and walk away. The place where they ate is littered with dirty plastic that will not decompose in their lifetime. There is waste everywhere. The gushing river, a flowering rhododendron in the corner. The white, soiled plastic. There is a dissonance between the two, an incongruence. There is a bin in the corner of the street. No one uses it. People throw wrappers, plastic bags--whatever they no longer need--on the ground. It covers shrubs like ill-made confetti. It piles in corners and festers and stinks. Cows, stray dogs and crows pick in it, looking for something edible, potentially spreading diseases. Other piles are burned, sending noxious fumes into the environment. Hazardous noxious fumes. I have never seen so much waste out in the open in my life. I am sad because India is beautiful but the waste masks her beauty, spoils it. The Rich and the Poor By the Nike store in Connaught Place lies a homeless man, dressed in grimy rags. Most people in India would have to work several months, sometimes even more, to afford even one item from the store. The gleaming orange swooshy logo; the attractive merchandise inside. The dirty-faced homeless man; unshowered, his hair tangled. A glimmering black Mercedes cruises by a bullock-drawn cart driven by a turbaned man, a thousand and one furrows on his face, the marks of hardship and deprivation. One of the bullocks--the one closer to the Mercedes--its horns painted blue, makes a sudden jerk to the side, as if frightened by the black, shiny beast. Traffic is tight. The metal rim of the plywood cart scratches the side of the Mercedes. The bright sun reflects strangely on the new abrasion on the vehicle's body. Its owner, wearing a smart suit, his hair neatly-trimmed and oiled, walks out and begins to yell at the bullock driver. Conclusion The question was about what things are shocking, in India, to the newcomer, and I have shared some of the most powerful ones, those that leave a lasting, thought-provoking impression. But, speaking for myself, they did not mar the experience of India, and and I found plenty of magic, beauty and wonder, from Kanyakumari to the Himalayas.

What is the most Lovecraftian video game?

Fallen London,. Fallen London is a text-based desktop RPG by Failbetter Games, set in an underground, fantastical version of Victorian London. The game has no plot, but instead follows your character as they experience all that London has to offer and gain notoriety. Much of the game revolves around learning the backstory of the world that it takes place in, and that lore is incredibly Lovecraftian. Major spoilers follow for anyone who might want to play. Trust me, if you have any interest in playing the game, I do not recommend reading what follows. It all begins with the Echo Bazaar. The Bazaar isn’t just a marketplace— in fact, it is a ,living thing. ,It is some sort of sapient entity. London is the Fifth City the Bazaar has stolen. There will be two more. The main form of currency traded in the Bazaar is called Echos, but the Bazaar particularly prizes Touching Love Stories. This is because it is in love with the Sun, who is a Judgement. The Judgements are some kind of malevolent deity, I think. They destroy anything supernatural, hence why devils and other such things cannot exist aboveground. The Bazaar is served by a group of batlike humanoids called the Masters, who are implied to be gods. The Masters are literally ,Alien Space Bats., They regulate trade in Fallen London. So, Mr. Wines manages the trade of beverages, Mr. Veils the trade of textiles, Mr. Cups the trade of pottery, Mr. Pages the trade of books and documents, Mr. Iron the trade of metalwork, etc. Despite the “Mr.” title being used for all of them, their pronouns are all “it, its.” The Traitor Empress (who is obviously Queen Victoria, despite never being mentioned by name on pain of death) made a deal with the Masters. They preserved the life of her husband in exchange for London. London is now underground, in a cavern called the Neath, bordering the Unterzee (Undersea) and not far from Hell. The Empress, meanwhile, is no longer human. In fact, none of the royal family are human. They are some form of humanoid abomination. Those that serve them dinner cannot look directly at them, or else they will go mad from the revelation. Speaking of going mad from the revelation, the most Lovecraftian thing in Fallen London is a storyline known as ,Seeking Mr. Eaten’s Name,, or SMEN. But to explain that, we have to start with some other things. First, the Forgotten Quarter. This is an area of Fallen London that is the remnants of the previous four cities, or at least one of them. You can embark on archeological expeditions in the Forgotten Quarter, and learn some interesting stuff (if you don’t run out of supplies or actions or money). The Forgotten Quarter is where you find all your mysterious idols of forgotten gods, strange tablets, ruined cities, etc. I love it! The risk is, if you dig too deep, you can acquire a quality called Nightmares, which are exactly what they sound like. The higher your Nightmares rise, the more you go insane. If your Nightmares rise too high, you are banished to one of two locations. One is a strange, dreamlike jungle called the Mirror-Marches. The other is A State of Some Confusion, during which you stay in the Royal Bethlehem Hotel, a luxury resort for the insane: A refuge? That night you dream of a tall building lit by cheery fires. A sign reads CLEFT FOR THEE HIDE IN ME. The walls are wrong. The walls are wrong. You have lost your mind! Don't panic. You may be able to get it back. In the meantime, everything is gold and red and marvellous. Masks in the firelight In the light of the camp-fires, the soldiers' faces are huge and grinning and savage, like painted demons. But you know that can't be real. A lost secret You put a secret down. You did it just a moment ago! Someone must have stolen it! A lizard of distinction There's a lizard in your room. A bloody lizard! Who put it there? Why are you beset by lizards? Still it seems a distinguished sort. It has lunched with kings and ministers. Possibly on kings and ministers. It sits on your pillow to tell you these things. You can't sleep! On the up side, you don't dream. Another thing that can easily drive you insane is study of the Correspondence, which is (seriously, SPOILERS!) the language of the stars. It is written in strange sigils that you do not want to stare at too long. All of that comes into play with SMEN. The game actively warns you, repeatedly, not to pursue SMEN. It is information mankind was not meant to know. SMEN is staring into the abyss at the bottom of a well and knowing that yes, it ,is ,quite literally staring into you. Mr. Eaten was a Master. Then he was eaten. If you want to find out why, and you want to learn what his name used to be before he was eaten, then you have to give up everything. You lose your health, your wealth, your friends, your reputation, your progress, your stats, your rare items, your sanity, everything. You gain absolutely nothing if you seek the information mankind was not meant to know. And if you complete the storyline, your character becomes permanently unplayable. It begins with a quality called Unaccountably Peckish. “Why are you so damnably hungry?” For as long as you have Peckish, you feel a constant, gnawing hunger. And you start seeing strange, black-rimmed Opportunity Cards that can’t be discarded. If you don’t get rid of Peckish, and increase it deliberately, and become a Seeker of the Name… it gets nasty. A reckoning will not be postponed indefinitely. Seeking the Name forces you to do increasingly horrifying actions, like eating teeth or folding pastry dough over your own face and baking you in a pie: "It's your mouth." "Can you stop dribbling?" she asks peevishly. Of course. You're salivating. It's difficult to stop. Soon the teeth in your jaw will reside cosily in your gut. Oh God. It will almost be as if you have two mouths. You will be able to consume—consume— A special recipe […] You ready the oven. You fold the pastry over your peacefully smiling face. You lay the table and tuck your napkin into your collar. You begin. Police-whistles, and the smell of smoke You need something rare. Something rich and red. If it were still moving, perhaps? Oh God yes. "For I was hungry, and I ate you. I was thirsty, and I drank you." […] Your memory is patchy. The cutlery. The difficulty with the tablecloth. That business with the mouse. If only it had moved faster. If only the sous-chef had been more cooperative. The thirstless thirst Drown each secret in wine. They scream like buried children. Drink them down; drink them deep. They will rise in you like the water below the well and flower like red spring. You are thirstier now. No. Hungrier. You mark your body with scars, your mind with memories of chains, and your soul with stains, seven times each. After you do that, you will collect seven candles. You will commit seven betrayals, perform seven rituals with Searing Enigmas. And that’s just to gather the first candle. Once you have gained all seven (and lost everything else), finally… you will go NORTH. You dream of sigils and candles and the NORTH. You are beset with maddening hunger. You are nothing but hunger… All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well. All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well. SHALL BE WELL SHALL BE WELL SHALL BE WELL

How do you fix curb rash on a car?

A few years ago I bought a set of used wheels on Craigslist with the intention of just using them for winter. I wanted alloys and not steel wheels. Initially, I told myself I did not really care about cosmetics on the wheels as long as they hold air. These wheels were the exact size (but different design), 17x71/2 46 offset. The seller was asking for C$150 for 4 wheels and tires so I did not expect much of the set before I saw them in person. When I saw the wheels, they were actually in good shape except for the curb rash on all 4. The tires were old (5 yrs old according to the sidewall marking) but still very much serviceable and usable. Remaining tread was about 60% so overall not a bad deal. These were studded tires in exactly the same summer size that I am running (215/50–17). Wheels were manufactured by Enkei for Mitsubishi (Eclipse). After taking them home and giving them a good wash (dried salt, caked mud), I realized how extensive the curbing was. The pictures below do not how deep the damages were at certain areas. They were still OK, but it would be a shame to put them on the car looking as is. So I decided to clean up the damage and maybe apply a coat of paint. Sand. Sand. Sand. A small sanding disc (2″ or less) attached to a drill, a flap sanding brush attachment on a dremel tool or even a rotary air grinder with a fine sanding bit. First I used 80, then 150 and optionally 220. Take it easy. Aluminum wheels are relatively soft so a light pass with 80 grit without much pressure should remove most of the deep gouges. Then use 120–150 to blend the areas near the blemished/sanded areas. If you intend to paint the wheels, lightly scuff the entire painted surface to give a good biting surface. Once done, clean with lots of water. Let dry. Clean again and then use a surface prep/degreaser (90% rubbing alcohol works as well). It might also be a good idea to clean the backside of the wheel as well. For this I used both a handheld and a wheel wire brush and coarse sandpaper. There will be a lot of crud, brake dust and road grime on the wheel. This part may actually take the longest. It is up to you if you want to go through this process. Here is a different wheel with lots of baked in brake dust and surface rust. I then used a chemical cleaner which is a light acid that etches the aluminum a little. Be sure to follow instructions on the bottle and rinse well with plenty of water. Below is a picture of the same wheel after a one pass. The outside face of the wheel should now look something like below. Depending on how you want your final product to turn out, you may want to sand further or go to the next step. Primer. You may want to remove the tire or in my case, I left the tire on and used green painters tape to mask as close to the wheel inner edge as possible. You can also deflate the tire for easier handling as well. Apply several coats of primer. You can choose cheap home improvement store primer, good high buildup primer or even automotive grade primer high heat primer. It all depends on your preference. You can use rattle cans or a proper gun and compressor. Again, the choice is yours. When the primer has sufficiently dried, you may choose to sand some areas of the primered surface or lightly run 220/240 grit or a green scotchbrite pad. This process is totally up to you but this will determine the final result. For me, I only wanted the wheel to look good and presentable. I was not aiming for perfect results. When you are satisfied with the results at this point, then you can now proceed to the next step. Actual paint. The color will be your choice. If you pick to just color match the original wheel (usually silver in color), then you will have to find a matching wheel paint. You can also repaint a contrasting color if preferred. Most automotive places have a good selection of perfect match paints specifically designed for wheels. For me, I chose to go black. I did not want anything glossy but did not want to go flat black as well. I wanted a deep textured black that had good adhesion and good surface protection. So instead of using automotive wheel grade paint, I chose rustoleum specialty high-heat black. I’ve had good results with this paint before and it is specifically designed for barbecues with a claimed heat resistance of up to 650C. Since the inside face of the wheel has been both mechanically and chemically stripped, now would also be a good time to apply some paint here as well. Depending on wheel design, you may want to use the same paint or in my case, I just used regular flat black (in a quart can) and applied it by hand (brush). This saves a lot in terms of time and cost. Let this dry thoroughly but carefully wipe off any excess or runs that may be visible from the front especially if you got some paint on the outside face. Finally, paint the outside (visible face) of the wheel. If you are using a paint can (like I did), stand the wheels vertical. Do not paint with the wheels laid flat on the ground. Rattle can paint is not designed to be applied with the nozzle facing downwards. You will get uneven coverage and patches. Stand the wheel, spray paint in light coats. Rotate the wheel and respray any missed areas. Let dry and repeat according to how many coats you want and what is the prescribed drying time on the can. Oh, and spray indoors (well ventilated of course) if possible. My pictures show the wheel on the ground/grass but they were actually painted inside the garage. This prevents surface contaminants such as bugs, dust. twigs or anything that could ruin the final look of the painted surface. When sufficiently dry, you can move the tires/wheels to dry in open air. After 3 coats of black, this is how the wheels look. I let the textured black dry to the touch before applying the final coat of clear. I used 2 coats of Satin low gloss clear. After the last coat, give the paint a little bit of time to flash and release most of its fumes. Ten minutes is usually enough. Then immediately but carefully remove all the tape. Do this before the paint completely dries, otherwise you will be taking some paint with you later on. The tape will become part of the painted surface is allowed to dry on the wheel and you will end up ruining your hard work. I then let them air dry first for at least a day inside the garage (warm summer day) and then another day outside in the sun. This is specially true if you used some oil-based enamel paint that dries from the inside to the outside. I personally chose to let them dry further for a few more days before I cleaned them with lots of soap and water to remove any residues from the aluminum dust on the tires. A good rubber cleaner is also recommended. The final product doesn’t look too shiny in person (which is what I was aiming for). Seven years later and to this day, 2020, the wheels still look good. A few minor paint scratches that were easily touched up and new tires were installed. Fortunately (or unfortunately) the car wasn’t used for this winter season and was just kept in the garage.

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