From: Gary S.
Gevisser [
Sent:
To: 'Mike Sagorin'
Cc: rest
Subject: RE: 200 T-SHIRTS
Mike – Fortunately or unfortunately as
the case may be you weren’t able to join Mr. Krinsk and
I for lunch where he took the last serving of chicken-pot-pie while I had
to settle for Halibutt
+ “desert”
[sic]. His taking the time out to take a phone call, however, gave me the
opportunity to introduce myself to a divorce attorney, whose female companion
assured me that I would be in “good
hands.”
I don’t think I received any brownie
points by letting her know that Mr. Krinsk has “no clients” falling short of disclosing that
Mr. Krinsk’s clients are shareholders who seldom if ever visit the law
offices of SCALs [Shareholder Class Action Litigators], a breed of attorneys
who right now are anything but “under the
gun” as they go about “shooting fish in a
barrel” and God help any attorney that tries to steal my expression, The Meek With
Teeth
Shall Inherit The Earth.
So much so that Mr. Krinsk rather than use
probably his best “forensic accountant”, whatever the hell those
fukukta words mean, decided instead of me joining him on a flight tomorrow to
New York returning to California early Friday morning where he would have had
me join him in meeting with some fukukta union leaders he would keep me in
reserve for the “main
event” that should turn up aces for all of us small time budding
entrepreneurs assuming the stock markets all around the world don’t all
but collapse by such time.
Interestingly it took some 10 minutes for
the 316 hyperlink from the deposition Mr. Krinsk took back on October 17th
of last year to load up, giving
Mr. Krinsk like me has no children of his
own but like me takes care of more than what some would say is our fair share
of “monsters.”
He too is very much in tune with the factors contributing to poorly behaving
children growing up to be poorly behaving adults, smiling faces turning to
snarls and frowns, particularly when their wants start exceeding their needs
which can never be satisfied; those with ugly warts to be administered to with
genuine kindness especially when you consider my point of view that what we
return to earth as may have in fact a lot to do with how well or how good we
behaved in our previous lives, again a whole lot better than coming back as say
an ant.
Remember, this is just my opinion and
there are few people in this world as ugly as me, a face lined in the event we were
to introduce trams once again and at the same time the powers that be wanted to
reduce the population by giving folks like me an opportunity to help solve the
problems of the world. Then again if I or anyone else has some better solution
then I think folks, especially those now coming more and more into my “crosshairs” should all but pay attention and stop the constant
“ducking & diving”, hey mom?
“dnA” [sic] of course we all make the
mistake of sometimes assuming too much particularly when we grow accustomed to
seeing the worst in people and why today more so than ever before I am slowly
tightening the noose ever so carefully around my inner circle making certain
that the Peter
Principle doesn’t
rear its ugly head.
In the SCAL line of business where
attorneys have their own “skin in the game”
it absolutely doesn’t pay to assume anything since any mistake is on
their nickel not their clients as opposed to most dimwit clients involved in
other forms of litigation whose attorneys are capable of socking it to them
left and right while taking out the centerpiece for their own enjoyment…,
let just one of the 200+ attorneys spread all over the world dare to disagree
with what I have just written.[1]
At
Since Marie never reads my emails I
don’t see any harm even in letting her former husband’s lawyer Mr.
George Hurst hear that I had met this wonderful lady who only had terrific
things to say about someone I consider nothing sort of trash. So Mr. Hurst go take my opinion of you and smoke it in your pipe and
smoke on it until you choke to death.
And by the way, your client, Dr. John Ben
Stewart [JBS] tells his former second wife who is now my first wife that he has
had no contact with you but of course I don’t believe a word coming out
of JBS’ filthy mouth, his script today all but telltale signs of a
seriously deprived human being who should be watched ever so closely and why
from this point forward I am including FBI agent Mark Culp [until] he tells me “otherweiss”
[sic] and of course I wouldn’t place an FBI agent on my “delete
list” although for all I know all of those on my list could be working
“under cover”
wouldn’t you agree, Ms. Kathryn Murray?
I was telling
We also happen to share a number of things
in common like “frothing
at the mouth” going after rapacious scoundrels on Wall Street or just
neighborhood folk with white picket fences who just haven’t quite
mastered the art of larceny like the double breasted, fat slobs who read fukukta nonsense put
out by publications like the WSJ that provides nothing more than a front for worst of the worst
like
There is though no guess work in the SCAL
business, just good versus bad intelligence. And folks like
I will assume that Jodie Ruiz who is also
copied on this E-mail would
apprise her former boss, Ms. Kathryn Ashworth, the former Ms. Kathryn Ashworth, that time has now run out. As much as I dislike
placing people I have known a lifetime in a jam I learned a long time ago that
“blood is as thick as experience” and to be ever so slow to judge
people rightly or wrongly knowing full well that those on the far right and
those on the far left make it their business to eat off those in the center, centerpieces
to spread ever so gently, wouldn’t you agree Mr. Doug
It is my understanding that the word on
the street is that Judge Ashworth, a respected judge amongst those having to
plead before his bench is now part of JAM some arbitration group I would
suggest folks approach at “arms length” letting the man and woman
on the street, those Americans who are but 4 paychecks away from being out on
the street decide what and what doesn’t make sense while most of the
great attorneys I know would never set foot on to a race track knowing that it
is but a mugs
game, much like golf.
I am not certain why I hate that
pathetically boring game so much other than perhaps I am still waiting for
Thank God is all I can say for having a
fair-minded
Judge like Judge Hendrix, mostly though I thank God for having instilled in not
always perfect men the wherewithal to pull together a Constitution that so far
has stood up pretty well but clearly needs reform beginning with finding
members within the Supreme Court of the United States who will find the courage
to ask,
“How come Mr.
Gevisser with all that you have on your plate, you happen to be in possession
of “smoking
gun evidence” that will begin the process of setting things
straight?”
This coming Saturday we will try again to
get through to Mr. Kenneth
Standard, the president of the New York Bar Association overseeing some
68,000 lawyers many of whom could very likely join the food lines if some of
the fundamental building blocks deep within the foundations of our financial
institutions are not addressed or redressed as may be the case, hot air rises,
nothing like taking a hot Jacuzzi with smelly rugby players and why I love
“touch
rugby” played at the beach even if it means going prematurely lame,
gray to be covered with highlights, “Ho Chi Min” Davis to be kicked
out of office post haste, so help me God.
My “significant other” aka Marie
Dion Gevisser did not exactly give me the “nod” to
take the Ducati that would have got me downtown with time to spare. She did
though, pin on to my jacket some of her hand-made “fly” creations
that knocked the socks off the two ladies who witnessed my arrival at
Rainwaters well ahead of Mr. Krinsk to mention little of my being able to
respond to every fast ball Mr. Krinsk threw at me in terms of why GrubbyGrub
and GirlieGarb.com will supplant anything coming out of Hang Ten International
before and after he left to make his way in this world never having to kowtow
to anyone, just like me.
His good looks though no doubt he put to
good use every step of the way just like I am now leveraging the achievements
of even my “mad
hatter” mother who masterminded and executed with exact precision Penny
Coelen becoming South Africa’s first Miss World in 1958 and then
some. And of course Mr. Krinsk was also not surprised that no member of my
family corrected me when I wrote previously about my having a letter of
introduction to David Isaacs who later became the president of Hang Ten no
doubt due to the lobbying tactics of Mr. Krinsk.
It was in fact a letter of introduction to
Should Mr. Fox be accommodating I might
invite him to one of our “Stain”
workshops although he might have other less worthy pursuits and naturally I am
biased to anything that has Mr. Krinsk starting off our lunch even before I can
order the most expensive champagne off the wine list throwing me knuckleballs
that had the waitresses to mention little of the two beautiful Matre D’s
running for cover.
Were it not for the fact that Ms. Wapnick
and her two companions who happened to also be attorneys were in to a social
lunch they would have been licking their chops fighting over which one of us had
the deepest pockets.
As I once mentioned before in the one
million odd words I have written over the past 4 odd years there was only one
occasion when Mr. Krinsk and I have ever raised our voices and it was in the
same conversation which undoubtedly had the sound waves being cancelled out and
the only residue to speak of comes about when we get into topics like particle
accelerators and 2Cs to mention little of that less-than-an-idiot Doppler who I
suspect ran out of steam before he was able to tune in to the heartbeat of the
universe, folks like Eminem in touch with those who really count, and who are
now counting on us old fogies to get in tune with the times, that the problems
of the world are of our making and those that came before and not 5678 year-olds
who are as much entitled to have a good time as 9,10,11,12 and 13-year-olds who
by age 14 are all but fed up with the same old bullshit that gets repeated from
one generation to the next, wouldn’t you agree?
You know love not when some kid looks you
in the eye because they have been conditioned to believe that you the parent
are some sort of God but when people like
By the way I was all of 3 minutes late
driving the Mini Cooper S, slipstreaming while one cement truck
driver almost had a heart attack although I think “he” [sic] facial expressions
indicated that maybe I needed a lobotomy and I happened to beat Mr. Krinsk by
exactly 30 seconds even though I had to park and he entered the restaurant through
the back door clearly having run all the way from his offices although it is
possible he had a tail on him possibly placed by the likes of “Milberg
Weiss Bershad Hynes and Leroach”
[sic].
It is also possible that Mr. Krinsk may
have suffered some financial loss due to my blowing up the Splash Technology
shareholder class action lawsuit, oh well, “Vanmore is nog a ander dagga” [sic].
Now please understand I am throwing in a
whole lot of stuff here in order to make it interesting reading for Mr. George
Hurst Esq who is standing by no doubt like a chicken with his head
cut off having no clue whatsoever how I intend to stick it to him and his
fukukta client unless they both start right now to get their “poor
acts” together by first beginning to act appropriately toward my wife.
For starters Mr. Hurst can get his client,
JBS, to respond immediately to my wife’s repeated requests to confirm in
writing our travel plans this summer that WILL include the kids. Second, the next time JBS steps off the curb of Marie
Dion Gevisser’s house I will immediately contact the police assuming I
don’t get run over by a truck, which reminds me I failed to collect my
$32 bet from Mr. Krinsk. Third, if JBS ever approaches Marie Dion
Gevisser’s automobile without her permission let alone jumps into the
passenger seat of the automobile she is driving pleading nothing short of
insanity I will just let JBS and his attorney twist in the wind thinking about how I will respond.
Now if Dr. John Ben Stewart wants to
settle matters like the gentlemen of old then I might be accommodating if he
were to choose say either fencing or a cross country motorcycle race with the
finishing line right inside Howard Stern’s broadcast studio.
I think this would be as good a time as
any for Dr. John Ben Stewart to dispose of his gun collection, wouldn’t
you agree Mr. Golden?
Once again, copied on this email is a
statistically valid sample representative of the world’s population.
I am currently sitting in my car, parked
on the side of the road having picked up some art supplies for our workshop
this Friday evening, Roman Candles to burn ever so carefully. I had waited for
the rain to subside before heading back to
Tomorrow is another day and perhaps I will
find the time to check this email and make any necessary corrections. I would
like someone though to give me Bill Lerach’s email address.
All the best,
Ps – The delete list has
now increased by one. And of course it goes without saying that anyone who
would feel empowered by joining those on my “delete list”
shouldn’t hesitate to inform me; please though think at least 3 times
before contacting either Detective Steele of the San Diego Police Department or
the FBI, in fact may I suggest you count to 10 and then go back and forth until
you get it into your thick “scal” [sic] “I will hound you the
rest of your life” if you decide to play it “fast &
loose.”
From: Mike Sagorin
[mailto:Mike@Sagorin.com]
Sent:
To:
Subject: Re: 200 T-SHIRTS
I haven't been able to receive emails - problems with my hosting company. The problem isn't fixed yet - please DON'T EMAIL ME if you need to get hold of me. Rather call 949-331-5634.
I'm picking up the t-shirts at about
I was thinking about dropping them off on my way to
I'll call you after I pick-up the shirts.
Mike
[1]
One way to gain a better perspective of
what it means to have “skin in the game” is to explore the
difference between folks like Professor Klein who pontificate while caught up
in their excavations not quite
ambulant to sift through the weeds creeping up their behinds oblivious to the
wood for the trees toppling all around them versus those who recognize
that in order to make a living one not only has to be good at one does,
function in a non-academic competitive environment where one cannot “duck
& fcuk”
[non-sic] about indefinitely if it means having to feed one’s offspring
more than the sniff off an oil rag, maintaining most of all a good sense of
humor as in “The angle of the dangle equals the heat of the meat”
to dose the fukukta Professors who think that by remaining underground they can
dodge the bytes of the Digital Age, nothing worse than a dog that don’t hunt.
