From: Gary S. Gevisser [gsg@sellnext.com]
Sent: Thursday, May 22, 2003 6:11 PM
To:
ken@tmib.com - Ken Miller TegnerMiller Independent Insurance Agency
Cc: kelly@tmib.com;
katanaf@ormutual.com; David Pollak (dpollak@ubspw.com); Devin Standard (Devin@quasark.com); Ghurst (ghurst@hurst-hurst.com); gremeltech; Jodi Ruiz (jodir@abcklaw.com); Kingdelmar (Kingdelmar@aol.com); Malatskey (jeto@tig.com.au); Ron Bellows (duffy56@optonline.com); Senator_Lieberman (senator_lieberman@lieberman.senate.gov); Shaim (shaim@covetech.com)
Subject: ??

 

 

Dear Ken,

 

So where to begin taking you on a light journey is what plagues me at this moment in time? Nothing like going back in time, wouldn’t you agree?

 

The Old Testament starts out, “In the Beginning…---…= Beret-shit” and for the Hebrew you can click on either the morse code designation for SOS or the word “shit” which now calls for you to point your mouse on to the attachment, “Where the sun don’t shine” although the official sewer title is, “Colo-rectal-surgean” [sic].

 

There are few scholars out there who will disagree with me in terms of my pronunciation of these rather epic words followed by the word “G-d” which means, it seems, something different to each one of us on this planet; certainly us Jewish people have difficulty defining this often used word that has even the smartest like Abner Weiss running around in circles, although to his credit, Rabbi Weiss while Rabbi of the Orthodox Jewish Temple in Durban South Africa mostly had to worry about the Jewish “Capos” wanting to burn his ass.

 

Last night on PBS my bride and I watched this program about this Jewish sage Hillel whose most prophetic commentary was, “Think before doing to your neighbor’s spouse that which would keep your spouse satisfied, and the rest is commentary” [sic] although what I have admired most about this man who apparently inspired Jesus was his more “prophylactic” [siC

] comments, “If not now, when? If I am only for myself, who am I? If I am not for myself who is for me?”.

 

My wife, though not raised Jewish, will run circles around any Jewish woman over age 23 I know both literally and figuratively and when you consider my Bottoms Up Schooling [BUS] you would appreciate I also know a thing or two about how to charm the pants off even the most pathological although I prefer to just be around sweet smelling, intelligent women although I also happen to like the company of the likes of Jeffrey Krinsk Esq., Devin Standard, Amos Wright and of course Ron Bellows always though hopeful that the Poli Pollaks will stop being so much like “rolly pollys” which in Africa we referred to as “shangalawyers” [sic] since the moment you touch them they roll up, at times oozing nothing short of shit, hard to tell though their mouth from their rear ends.

 

My wife is also assured that I won’t stray for the simple reason that as she gets more beautiful I get uglier by the minute, again everything is relatively speaking, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Oh so handsome? I am copying Devin Standard’s mother on this email who is a retired psycho therapist. Perhaps Mrs. Standard Snr. will have a suggestion as to how I might bring out the best in Poli Pollack who tends to spa with toothless tigers much like getting the alligator but leaving the teeth.

 

I am though fully "cognacscent" [sic] of the fact that the Standard family including Kenneth Standard who is currently “filling in” as President of the New York Bar Association have all so far failed to get Poli to lift his shorts, his short verses that is, to a higher level. , i.e. to reason with Poli to stop appearing on fukukta TV network talk shows where anyone can win the game before the referees show up, much like playing cricket without umpires; just ask Elliot Spitzer who was the first one willing to [go] after the Wall Street chatter boxes using State laws not always available in hot spots like California for “laddering”, i.e. misconduct in IPO allocations supported by secret agreements not to let go of stock of companies in Initial Public Offerings for certain periods of time, creating artificial demand that causes the stock to go up in conjunction with “boosters shots” by IPO analysts.

 

I have been formulating an email in my head to send to Mr. Jeffrey Krinsk Esq. prior to our meeting this coming Wednesday at 12NOON at Rainwaters in downtown San Diego. Hopefully this time Mr. Krinsk will reserve a chicken-pot-pie for me as well as himself.

 

By the way, I have yet to respond to Laurie Blacks most recent E-mail sent to me back on April 14th but in due course I will, G-d willing, have sufficient time left to give her a “peace of my mind” [sic] + post up the 4-part E-mail I promised Professor Bernie Black of Stanford Law School back on April 8th.

 

It is not my custom to give just anyone a haircut unless of course they deserve it and you most certainly do. G-d only knows that I don’t need any more material to make Manager Minute One a best seller but there is nothing like fine-tuning things leveraging the likes of you, the introduction well under way, wouldn’t you agree? The draft of the 64 odd page book will be complete no later May 28th 11:59AM PST.

 

Not only did you ignore my “so” simple requests “butt” [sic] somehow the message that was given to the Oregon Mutual Insurance company was that I had “found other insurance” coverage.

 

Although the “64” hyperlink doesn’t contain any explanation as to how I went about solving the $64,000 question I think if you asked anyone between the ages of 8 and 23 it would take them all of 12 seconds to work it out assuming of course their parents didn’t let their formal education interfere with their learning turning their “kids in to diks” skid-marks a tell-tale sign, wouldn’t you agree? By the way Dr. Juma has still to get back to my wife and me about me getting “fixed.”

 

Earlier today, at precisely 1:15pm I could have sworn I saw Alan Viterbi walk in to Starbucks in downtown Del Mar with another gentleman although the person possibly impersonating Alan looked like he had just come out of a train wreck or to be more accurate, like he had spent a year or so recuperating by eating not just a quart of Gelato Vero Italian Ice-cream after his 3 meals a day of “pork bellies” exercising nothing but his mouth. There is no way for me to know for certain it was Alan unless he was to drop his pants and have all his previous lovers check him out from tip to toe.

 

As I mentioned in the first hyperlink in the previous paragraph I recall Alan being quite the athlete. One can be certain of few things in this topsy-turby-curvy world these days, not even your independent insurance agent who is supposed to protect your best interests to mention little of an agent that poisons the well, so much for skyrocketing premiums, such as Errors & Omissions, wouldn’t you agree?

 

I am sure that if it was in fact Alan Viterbi he would have said hello although I was the only guy sitting in Starbucks wearing one of the latest Arai helmets very similar to the design on one of my shirt sleeves that I picked up last year in Cuzco Peru. Wearing a helmet indoors is not something I do consciously despite Mr. Krinsk’s repeated warnings that my death will come with blow to the back of my head, always though never forgetting to add that it will be all “butt painless” [sic].

 

Mr. Krinsk as should know by now having spent the past 12 odd hours hyperlinking through all my emails going back to October 18th 2000 is the other executor of my estate and no matter how badly this depression gets it is unlikely this one of a kind alligator would want to see me dead just so as to suck the marrow out of bones that I have earmarked for my dog, Pypeetoe.

 

One of the expressions I raised with besides for questioning authority was, “From shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves in 3 generations” which I think would be a good starting point to begin my response to Alan Viterbi’s email to me back on May 15th assuming I get through the rest of my backlog.

 

So Ken, the question is who is telling the truth to mention how little effort it actually took to convince the powers that be that I was a risk worth taking?

 

Earlier this afternoon I was sitting over at the Board & Grill, my favorite sandwich shop about 200 meters south as the crow flies from where I am still sitting at Starbucks and the time is now going on 5:30PM PST and I still have to head over to my wife’s 10-year-olds school band recital, still planning to run later from 15th street all the way over that “rotunda” that sits on the south end of “Blacks beach” right near where that photo in the last hyperlink was taken, so I will be speeding things up a little.

 

Before I forget, included in my estate will be that photo and I am sure both Mr. Krinsk and Mr. Standard will do a good job of convincing my sister’s good friend who lives up in Santa Barbara to allow them to market this “perfect match”, nothing though like being considerate and lighting a match after evacuating your bowls for the second time today? Or just being SMArT as in Science, Mathematics along with good Art, and Technology to stimulate the mind, KISSing though says everything always better though to kiss someone who is still equipped WITH TEETH, wouldn’t you agree?

 

The radio was playing and I couldn’t help thinking of you as I heard the words,

 

“Your are the Dancing Queen…feel the beat, you can dance…having the time of your life… see that girl, watch that…dancing queen…”

 

I have heard of tap dancing but never have I come across such outright recklessness by folks fighting for their lives in one of the “hardest” insurance markets I have known but then again I am not as old as you nor do I think your spouse-significant other is as demanding as mine but I could be wrong, in fact for all I know you could be married to 12 wives possibly hiding Saddam Hussein and his entire concubine?

 

Moreover, I haven’t allowed the rot of wanting to die the richest person in the grave enter my brain, to mention for the umpteenth never having allowed my formal education to interfere with my learning.

 

This latest distraction has delayed me contacting Diana Henriques of the New York Times although there are other extenuating factors which could mitigate my damages against you that you will get wind of in due course but suffice to say having gone to bat with zero support from you folks to secure insurance coverage on my Santa Monica property required me pulling out all stops.

 

Although I have not received anything in writing I have the word of Kim Backwood, my new independent insurance agent, that Oregon Mutual Insurance company have now granted me “binding” coverage, i.e. you can go to hell.

 

Before, however, you choose to stick your head further up your ass while somehow having got the message across to the folks at Oregon Mutual that I had found “alternative” insurance you must surely allow me the opportunity of shoving it to you further where the sun don’t shine and then some.

 

For every negative there is an equal and opposite positive mostly though in the form of good, hard working women who today not only help run Independent Insurance Agencies but with the Digital Age that has testosterone clad men standing still more and more, now rising up the corporate ladder to buck the system thinking on their feet. When you are so enamored with your own self-importance you fail to reflect, going back and forth, looking constantly in a mirror up close to see how far up your shit has seeped into your “SCAL” [sic], living each day as though it were you last, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

The chaos in the insurance markets are attributable to man’s testosterone having got out of control and just because some men come across as “mild mannered” those of us who have played ball, been around in the thick of it, both on and off the rugby field, “skin in the game” you know what I mean, are well aware that some of the quietest folk who watch their Ps and Qs when it “suits” them, relying on professional designations to wreck havoc on the masses, when given, however, just half the chance show their vulgarity in the confines of male oriented environments, like when standing in front of the urinal or when taking a crap, or farting their butts in the process rocking the brains of their offspring on “fishing expeditions” laughing their heads off at the scribblings by those who tell it the way it is, to mention little of who pays ultimately for all this bad behavior, peanut brains to boot, in favor of great artists, would you also agree.[1]

 

You will have ample opportunity to respond to what I believe is nothing short of an attempt to undermine both my credibility as well as my net worth were I not to have been able to convince Katana Forbes of Oregon Mutual as well as Kim Backwood who seem to appreciate that a handful of us men do in fact listen better than what most women gives us credit for and of course there are more than a few good men out there besides for our great President George W. Bush with his wife fortunately clearly in control, i.e. not letting shit heads on the far right and far left try and make mincemeat of this G-dly inspired man.

 

Risk Assessment is my business and please don’t hesitate to forward this email on to George Nordhaus of Insurance Marketing Services although I understand that soon after I left the company he changed the name and has since suffered miserably, of course relatively speaking that is, wouldn’t you agree? And of course George has my permission to publish this entire email along with all the hyperlinks in the next Weekly Marketeer.

 

The time is soon approaching when no one will be able to get away with “ducking & diving” saying one thing and then something very different the next moment or in the case of someone like Senator Byrd thinking that all us whities are brain dead.

 

Today’s featured story, “False premises” which spells out comments by “Senator Bird” [sic] much akin to the commentaries by the “Talkaholic” Poli Pollak on the bopping head TV talk shows like CNBC and the Fox Network although I have no evidence that Poli has been around the same number of lynchings as Senator Byrd but clearly he can “talkalot” much like Senator Thurmond thinking perhaps that he is some sort of “Tokolosh” with his nostrils pointed high blocking his eyes from seeing which way the winds blow before going with the flow eventually though walking around like any fukukta “bitch” [sic] with his tail between his legs.

 

Now I probably have a nose 3 to 4 wavelengths longer than Polie Pollak but given all the shit liberals like him throw up on the wall one cannot trust one’s nose much like eyewitness accounts prove unreliable, best to simply use the mind, something I remain convinced unless proved otherwise remains lost to the likes of Poli although when I get over to Jonathan’s elementary school in a short while I will check the “Lost & found.”

 

Poli along with a representative sampling of the world’s population copied on this email has yet to call me despite telling his best friend Devin Standard that he would call me “within a weak” [sic]. On the other hand Poli could have like that other liberal-idiot Kennedy not knowing how to catch a ball while skiing recklessly amongst the brain dead elite, run up against a tree, particles of brain emptying each time he went on about some liberal agenda having the masses dependant on his liberal bent promoting nothing but co-dependency and he, the father-figure, sent to save them from the likes of Devin Standard who knows about what it means to compete in the real world as both an entrepreneur and now once again a top corporate executive.

 

Ken, once again you are hearing something for the first time, i.e. why the media in general are liberal, cozying up to pharmaceutical companies wanting to shove down the throats of the middle and working class folks pills to soak away their desperate lives having been fed nothing short of dependency on big brother, bad news sell lots of Tylenol, Johnson & Johnson to boot, some of their salespeople though I hope will join us with GrubbyGrub and GirlieGarb.com.

 

Time for the likes of Ms. Blackwood and Ms. Forbes and of course my incredible A-Team from IMS as well as my most special wife to take the bull by the horns and get this entire world back in to ship-shape-fighting-pace with the likes of MGB and to “Take the world and make it yours again.”

 

Sincerely,

 

Gary S. Gevisser

 

[Word count 2854]

 



[1] The beginning of one stinky fish story begins when you click on to the “fish” hyperlink, followed by “ground zero” followed by the next “fish” hyperlink.