From: Gary S. Gevisser [
Subject: URGENT UPDATE ON EUROPEAN UNION PROTEST
I apologize 4 taking so long to respond to this “Urgent…” email you broadcasted back on July 1st of last year that reads in part,
Over 10,000 of you have joined the
The EU has informed our email server
that your emails have been "blacklisted". Please be assured that one
way or the other your
protest will be delivered by the
2. Tell a friend to sign the protest
OUR VOICES WILL BE HEARD!
to mention little at this time of your E-mail directed exclusively to me later on October 22nd, a number of things taking priority including the incredible celebrations that began 2 days later, on October 24th in Superior Court San Diego when a very fair judge ruled in our favor and my wife+I plus the likes of Devin Standard have been celebrating ever since.
I don’t know if you have ever experienced what it is like to be unjustly accused of something but it wouldn’t surprise me which is one of the reasons I would like to hear back from u not to forget the fact that at one time you dated while growing up in South Africa one of my mother’s top models who would have fallen into the race category of “colored.”
I remember the day rather well when I heard, you of all people, were now dating Dawn, not that you weren’t good enough for her, Christ almighty, you were certainly good-looking enough, butt never once did I hear a single word of protest coming out of your mouth condemning the illegitimate policies of the Nationalist Nazi regime that ruled over each and every one of us like an “iron fist” with it seemed a “capo” deposited on every neighborhood street corner?
Now of course I didn’t spend much time around you in the 21 odd years I was growing up in South Africa, rarely if ever getting into any “fisty cuffs”, and even if I were to have “lived & died” with you it is unlikely you would have heard a squeak of protest coming out of my mouth, but then again I never quite had the balls to date a colored person, quite a statement u seemed to be making, albeit Dawn being beautiful “inside & out.”
I should also point out that my mother had very strict rules about her models dating any of her 3 sons and I don’t believe the same set of rules applied to my sister Kathy and that is probably because Zena Gevisser who was very much in tune recognized early in Kathy’s development that she was not gay and I simply don’t recall any of her models being male.
So what was it about you that had you land one of the most amazing girls in the land is sumthing I have pondered probably as much as I have attempting to complete Einstein’s lifetime work of finding a Unified Theory 4 the Inner Workings of the Universe.
Now even though there was never any dating allowed that didn’t stop me from looking nor for that matter did it prevent me from being one of the more popular guys in my class and of course I knew whatever my popularity it had nothing to do with ugly “duck” looks although Lee Selbo once commented that his wife thought I wasn’t “the ugliest person she met” [sic] but then again compared to Lee who had this incredible “gift of the gab”, I had to find other means to compete and so with my “tail between my legs” I left South Africa in search of greener pastures.
I am waiting for Lee to send me a photo of his “best side” to insert as a hyperlink in the area demarcated in green.
And of course as you would expect I have gone from greener pastures to landing time and again in the most fertile spot every step of the way, never forgetting though my roots, and of course I have been fixed, paying very careful attention to pretty much everything around me.
Naturally, there is a lot I could have done about my looks but decided to go “with the flow” surrounding myself with incredibly good-looking and very talent women who would help distract folks away from my big nose, only G-D nose how many X this nose has been broken, to mention little of my elephant ears, dwarf-like arms, battle-torn right leg, marked left index finger, scarred right hand, and of course I could go on ad-infinitum, but I won’t, except to say every women I can recall being with turned out to be incredible in business.
Marie Dion Gevisser will soon rise from her slumber and one of the things I love to do is to be around when she wakes up in the morning with the biggest natural smile on her face, actually she left the house a good 9 hours ago, at about 9AM PST to be sumwhat precise, to purchase some discount frames with her artist-Rancho-Sante-friend Darlene, who I care for very much even though she says she doesn’t understand a word I write and if I recall correctly Darlene has a PhD geared toward the detection of senility, but I could be wrong.
I tend to go “back & forth” and thinking about Marie always brings a smile to my face especially the look that comes over her face when I tell her that my book Manager Minute One is “just one week away for you to edit.”
So far, my wife has not seen a single sentence although I read part of the introduction to her on the return flight from England where she had no choice but to listen, my taking the cord from the two headsets provided free of charge by American Airlines and wrapping them tightly around both her feet and her hands as she slept giving me a good 3 minutes to read to her as she woke up without the risk of being bloodied.
Just the other day Marie looked quite frightened as I departed the bathroom, naked, my indulgences over in England still very much written on my body although last night I completed about a 10 mile “back & forth” run along the beach during high tide in less than 2 hours, both my dogs seemingly very concerned that I was pushing things to the limit, they didn’t speak, it was just their body language.
Lately, I have been getting a little concerned since Marie has started allowing my dog, Pypeetoe, to come under the bedspread earlier in the morning than usual, normally when he gets up around 5AM she would tell him in French, “Go back to sleep” the phonetic spelling just one word, “Dodo” and just with one tiny whimper he would collapse without so much as going once around in a circle, his reaction quite different to the growling I sumtimes get since I treat him like a human being oftenX entering into a dialogue trying to explain that if he is “good” I will be his “friend” and take him to the beach describing everything that we would be doing during the day and if that didn’t please him, i.e. his growling pitched up a notch or too, I would relent by promising him in addition to his daily chicken a 32 ounce T-Bone steak.
I am rather frugal but not when it comes to my dog but I am beginning to learn a number of things from Marie besides for “Less said the better” that “u can catch more honeybees with honey than you can flies with crap” [sic] as well as, “2 hits 1 stone” or “Vengeance is sweet to the heart of an Indian” Marie being 1/64th Huan “Blood thirsty” Indian and 63/64ths a happy, “French Canadian” trooper, her best yet, “When the dialogue becomes two monologues it is the beginning of the end.”
And before I get to The Question let me tell you there is always the possibility that Jeffrey R. Krinsk Esq. has something to do with Pypeetoe finding himself so early in life “in the lap of luxury” having entered into a conspiracy with my wife and what I still have to figure out is what is in it for Marie since she is anything butt cheap and so very easy to pleas.
Given what Jeffrey “intimated” to the bigwig Democratic Party Senators this past weekend when he first attended a “Leadership” gathering followed by a “Clam Bake” at the Kennedy compound the next day, on the Sabbath Day mind you, at 11:30AM EST, sharp, Jeffrey is possibly starting to feel a little poorer and now seeks to avoid having to buy Pypeetoe the best cut of cow at Rainwaters, a sumwhat high-end restaurant where hip downtown San Diego attorneys network, much like the “down & out” folks who attend synagogues, churches and mosques, to mention little of the moat surrounding Mr. and Mrs. Krinsk’s house.
And of course if you would like to get Campbell Soup’s position on her agreeing with Jeffrey to let me and my family pitch a tent on their tennis court once “used & occupied” by a former mayor of San Diego, “bought & paid4” by a husband clearly in the kitchen business why not call her, first though you would need to figure out her telephone number.
Be4 asking you this rather important question let me provide you with a little bit of “background” and I doubt if a single person copied on this email would consider it rambling and if wrong I shall just add their name to the “delete list” without them even having to ask.
Back on November 8th 2000, I placed a call through to Norma Essakow who you know at least as well as I do, inviting her and her family to my New Beginnings Party that I planned to hold in early December here in downtown Del Mar across from the Plaza and once the pleasantries were over Norma asked me,
Suffice to say I kept my cool throughout bearing in mind that not only have I always liked Norma, Roy being one of my best friends, Jeffrey, his elder brother, one of the best, not knowing better, however, than to ask me, of all people, to tutor him in Deceased and Insolvent Estates at the University of Natal for the brain dead and of course I cannot say nice enough things about their sisters Carol and Lynda other than if either of them had husband’s idiot enough to leave them for another women then I would simply suggest to both Carol & Lynda that they grit their teeth and repeat after me, The Meek With Teeth Shall Inherit The Earth.
At one point Roy was my best friend, certainly if he had been a little older my mother would have approved of him marrying my sister and that was well be4 he could afford a big house on “farmer’s market row” [sic] blocking Kevin “poor cardiologist” Rappaport’s view overlooking Blacks Beach in La Jolla, California.
I did, however, feel the need to let Norma know that my last name in German meant “certain” and “Gewissen” translated in2 “conscience” and her inability to convince me that I was wrong about Lieberman and his buddy President Clinton, who I voted for, doing nothing to speak of in the 8 years the Democrats controlled the White House, bringing more of a sense of justice to the plight of Jonathan Pollard, the American-Israeli spy, had me not only deciding to go “vote my conscience” by walking sum 30 steps down from The Cave where I was “hanging out” but then getting on the phone with colleagues of mine in Florida where the voting booths had not yet closed, letting them know, “Time to help the bushes.”
Just about everything I, aka, The Pisser, have done from that moment forward has been meticulously documented including phone calls I placed to the home of Valerie Schulte who is an attorney for the “BAN” [cis] aka National Association of Broadcasters and it so happens that my former pal-attorney Mr. King Golden was visiting, and like Valerie, glued to the TV set, as the likes of Tom Brokaw called it “Florida Gore”, the lack of interest on the part of both King and Valerie to enter into a dialogue with me about this very important subject bearing in mind that Norma also had to cut the conversation short with me because she had a number of other people still to convince, resulted in me “pulling out all stops”, lampposts to boot and the rest is history.
I should also let you know that in addition my lackluster support for war as a means to resolve conflict, abhor violence, I do believe in a very strong military especially during these precarious times with the likes of King Golden still around.
Furthermore, I also subscribe to the “take no prisoner” approach which means never providing rogues with an escape hatch that would allow them to come back in this lifetime to repeat their wrongdoings, preferring instead to take those who “usurp their limited authority” on educational “light journeys” leaving it to G-D to decide their ultimate fate.
There are but a handful of people including King Golden who know what I mean when I say “Let’s do it” and usually I go very much alone and why I have never had not so much as an assistant over the past 14 years ever since I left a company called Insurance Marketing Services Inc., where I shared an assistant with the Chairman & CEO of the company in a “best efforts” to keep a leash on “Big Nose” George.
In the same way a good manager assembles the right team and then gets the “hell out of the way” this “standard of conduct” avoids not only me getting in someone else’s way but the chances of me getting tripped up, “slim & none” other than by my own mistakes which is why when I make a mistake I am very quick to own up and then sum.
Mr. Golden once providing me with his very best in the form of a “White Paper” that contained the all important words, “Who knew what and when did they know it?” just before I got on a plane to meet with the top dogs of Philips BV in Anthoven, Holland who had played quite a hand in “hoodwinking” our client Solly Krok out of couple of bucks and it really wasn’t so much the $20 odd million that Solly was “out of pocket” that concerned King or me but the implications of how anyone would believe that someone as sophisticated as Solly Krok and his brother Abe could be taken “for a ride.”
And of course a jury of 12 members in a Santa Monica courtroom later found Solly and his family guilty not only of fraud but “malicious fraud” which cost him in addition to the many tens of millions that “disappeared overnight” and a $33 million judgment including punitive damages, his “good name”, to mention little of the possibility that had I been on that jury hearing only the evidence that was presented I would have encouraged a District Attorney to file criminal charges against not only Solly and his brother, who had no clue about what the top dogs in the smoke filled offices located on Ocean Park Blvd just a “hop-jump-and-a-scotch” [sic] from the Santa Monica Pier were up to, I would have suggested that upon being found guilty of criminal misconduct each and every one of the executives and their legion of supporters for a period of 40 days and 40 nights be continuously dunked from the end of the Santa Monica Pier into the Pacific Ocean with the threat that if they didn’t tell it exactly the way it happened including all the sex, lies but I don’t remember finding any videotapes, they would very possibly end up with Bubba without a “hope in hell” of even a genius gastroenterologist like Dr. Jimmy George who practices on the upper east end of New York City touching them with anything short of a 100ft pole.
Now Derrick Beare is someone you have probably run into on occasion although he left South Africa 2 days after his barmitvah sum 30 odd years ago and most would say he is a “good guy” unless of course you happened to be on the opposing team to him when playing say soccer as I did recently while visiting with him and his family at Folly Farm.
Before getting into this rather important “huge deal” series of emails between Derrick and I let me indulge you with what an incredible “sports nut” Derrick really is and of course as you know the only way to really know what someone is made of is to be in business with him-her in the “good” and “bad X” [sic].
Suffice to say Derrick’s team made up of my wife, her 14 year-old-daughter, Danielle, and Derrick’s youngest son Joseph, not to be confused with Mr. Jeffrey R. Krinsk’s Esq’s multi-talented assistant whose first name is also Joseph, were victorious against his eldest son’s team made of Jake who is I believe around 7-years-old, our Del Martian, Jonathan, who is now 11 and without a doubt one of the best soccer players of his age in all of Del Mar and then there was me.
And you should know that I have been training for this soccer match ever since Derrick once decided to go at me using an Avenger Golf Club wood sum 15 odd years ago while the two of us were “on assignment” testing out “the mettle” on both the club heads that kept falling off the shafts and well as the yoyos running his uncle’s one company, not that I would call Terry Rosenberg a “yoyo” to his face, an idiot, nevertheless.
And of course u could read about all this in one or more of my hyperlinks how I first came to realize that Terry was “up to know good” [sic] when he took both Derrick and I to be fools just because we liked to play the fool a lot, never though, to the best of my recollection was there an instant of “Good Cop, Bad Cop” telling it just the way each of us saw it and letting the chips fall where they may, and of course there are times when “Loose Lips Sinks Ships”, spaceship earth, buster, now in deep dudu and who better than folks as ugly as you and me to turn this mother around?
Please don’t agree with anything I say at this time until you hear The Question and respond accordingly, remembering I know a thing or too about how to respond to fast balls thrown at or near head.
U may recall that Terry, despite not being Jewish, a born-again-Christian in fact, first made his name being the head of the South African unit of one of the large international accounting firms that in all likelihood is now broke.
Jake, Derrick’s eldest son was a fine captain, after each goaled scored against us bringing Jonathan and me into a huddle, making sure he touched both of us very gently, never once raising his voice, not the slightest scolding, clearly well aware of how difficult it was already for me, seeing no benefit in making me suffer any more, continuously encouraging, although making a point after every goal, “Gary, would you like to try another position?”
It is though only fair that I tell you that Danielle isn’t exactly a “push over” and that her mother, although only introduced to the physicality of soccer sum 10 odd years ago could possibly make it on any college soccer team if she had a coach like Derrick as opposed to me, “cutting her teeth” on the black slopes of some of the most formidable ski mountains on the planet before deciding after breaking a few ribs while blitzing down a run, her knees bopping “up & down”, never though falling, to take up speed rollerblading which is when she and I first touched.
And I should add she is the only person to have ever beaten me in a rollerblading race which is why after once almost knocking her out with a soccer ball I began teaching her a thing or too about “full on tackle” rugby which brings me back to the fact that Derrick didn’t exactly have a bunch of wankers on his team with Marie scoring at least one goal and I would also be remiss if I didn’t mention that throughout the game that left our team totally exhausted, thoroughly humiliated, Derrick was carrying Joseph his too year old the entire time, every so often throwing him from his right arm to this left and if this kid ends up brain dead and Derrick thrown in prison for life Derrick can be assured I will take care of Joseph as long as I continue to have visiting rights at Folly Farm, no concern really about visiting with Derrick in jail since he has lots of other friends, less wordy.
Now u may ask what would Derrick be doing sending me an email that talks about a “huge deal” when he knows perfectly well that I will leverage such a communication to “hell and high water?”
And of course Derrick is not just someone who suffers fools probably worse than I do but don’t take my word for it just ask Greg Harless a former business partner of Derrick who is anything but part of the “Durban Mafia” and although I have yet to even hear of Derrick so much as to telling a “white lie” it is very possible that the “big deal” he is referring to involves either negotiating with his wife the “first rights of refusal” in the event she decides to get up later in the morning to swim in the yet-to-be-built lap pool or Derrick is simply looking to expand his collection of cows.
Furthermore, as u must know, the world traveler u r, farm land in England is still relatively cheap although I doubt his wife who lets Derrick pretend he calls the shots would agree to living on a farm further away than 9 miles from the center of London unless of course he were to decide to go live in Timbuktu and not tell me exactly where.
Now there is no reason for u or anyone else born and raised in Durban, South Africa to take offense at Greg Harness’ description of Derrick’s uncle, Jonathan Beare, as the “Don of Dons” because Greg is in fact “one of us”, a solid Christian with a value system to boot, and someone, I might add, in all likelihood, Jonathan Beare would trust with his last dime which is why when we last all got together in Los Angeles during one of those many Beare clan gatherings, different now to a “Clam Bake” neither Derrick nor I took offense but I did make the point of picking up the check at this sumwhat fancy restaurant nothing quite like the meals that were prepared for us during our stay at Folly Farm to mention little of the chaos my dog, Pypeetoe, first created at this Hollywood restaurant when he decided to smell up every good looking women before being seated.
I should also let u know that I did have the opportunity to meet with Jonathan on this occasion during a morning breakfast at the Beverly Hills Regency Hotel and for all I know not only was there just about every member of the Beare entourage paying homage but it wouldn’t have surprised [me] in the least if the leadership of the Rothschild family were seated at Jonathan’s master table which brings me finally to that all important question which I first presented to Jonathan, i.e. giving him, “The heads up”, making certain though his guests couldn’t overhear although to be clear on this it was Jonathan who led the way out of the restaurant to the back entrance to the hotel where the noise from the passing traffic would have muffled my wiretap, just kidding, knowing perhaps that what I had to say could prove unsettling to the folks who I could tell were already having trouble with their digestion, and by now you are presumably aware that a fart is nothing more than an airborne blast of feces.
The question is,
Do you ever recall an occasion in all the times you attended synagogue at the Orthodox Jewish Temple in Silverton Road, Durban, South Africa or when you attended Carmel College, our private Jewish day school, when there was either one banner or a single speech by one of the many leaders of our Jewish community, protesting the policies of the illegitimate government that ruled South Africa with an iron first from 1948 when the State of Israel was formed, longer than the 40 years our Jewish ancestors supposedly spent wandering in the desert?
Let me explain things a little further just in case you are possibly “brain dead” and make no mistake I am doing my level best to get hold of Doctor, Professor, Rabbi Abner Weiss who seems to have gone AWOL [Absent WithOut Leave].
U may not know this but both Abner and his ex-wife Shifra have been my parents’ “lifetime” best friends, responsible for much if not all the Yiddishkeit brought into our households around the world and of course despite most of us Gevissers being of diminutive size, we are not exactly short, having the resources if “push came to shove” to not only shout loud enough to have the walls of Jericho at least shake, but enough finances set aside that allows us to not only enjoy life to the full but most importantly to maintain a healthy sense of humor, never forgetting, at least sum of us, the first commandment, “I am the Lord thy G-d who delivered thee out of Egypt, out of the house of bondage, never to return as slaves.”
And of course it is one thing to hushed into a corner and to close one’s ears and eyes to the unforgivable but it is altogether another thing to be so bold as to come out shouting at the top of your lungs, putting your ill-gotten gains to work in supporting a rogue institution like the Nationalist Nazi Party so much so that when a Jewish person like Eldred Savell and of course what he stole is pittance compared to someone like Sol Moshal, then can we rarely be surprised that no one in the community does much more than tell a joke like, “Eldred Savell is now driving buses in Israel taking people for a ride.”
In simple English this is called hypocrisy which is something I have made a point of impressing upon the youngsters I come into contact with.
And yes, buster, although I never let my formal education interfere with my learning I know probably a little bit more than the average Joe Blow about the Old Testament and although I don’t recall reading one word of Numbers, one of the 5 books of Moses, there probably isn’t anyone you know that has a better handle on numbers than me and certainly Jonathan Beare is no dummy, a physicist to boot, and of course I love Jonathan probably just as much as I love Solly Krok knowing that in the end he will do the right thing and if not him than his heirs, folks like Jonathan Beare, whether you like or detest him, not only put their money where their mouth is but they do try as best they can under very trying circumstances, poor conditioning to boot, to be entrepreneurial and to put back into the community but there is a whole lot more that needs to be done, a need to return sumwhat to the traders of the past, agree?
Despite my parents divorcing after 30 odd years of marriage there was in fact relatively little shouting in our house for the simple reason both parents were not born deaf, were pretty well grounded having got a rather “well rounded” education, both “above average” in the category of being smart, my mother though without a doubt a “certified genius” without the need to prove anything to anyone other than making certain there was always enough food on the table, a roof over our heads and enough money left over to take all of us on the most incredible overseas trips that more incredibly each one of us appreciated from a very early age.
But perhaps no more than a handful of folks know about the not so “glorified” services my mother provided and I am not talking about simply taking care of corpses before burial but more importantly working with those dying under the oppression of leading “double lives” something I would have thought would have been more important to address than the “fiction-non-fiction” gibberish contained in her and my step-father Alan Zulman’s Winking Cat, but that sort of stuff doesn’t “sell newspapers”, better yet it pisses off so-called “friends” and I for one happen to believe that “good” people don’t need friends.
There were in fact more than a handful of my friends parents who felt such “joy rides” overseas were simply “ridiculous” and of course without knowing really what made Zena Ash Gevisser tick it wouldn’t be so “out of proportion” to think any of us had the wherewithal to appreciate all that much especially when one considers how many “rich kids” today are so unappreciative of their parents “best efforts” which brings me to the point I have made before, a lesson I learned from Bill Squadron, the CEO of SporTVision, a spin off of Rupert Murdoch’s Fox Television Network, Bill’s father, Rupert Murdoch’s personal attorney for sum 30+ years.
It has been a while since Bill Squadron and I have communicated, the last time in earnest during World Cup Soccer 1998 in Paris, France when Bill had my attorney sitting in California remove the “best efforts” wording I had included in the draft copy of our joint venture engineering project geared toward turning the soccer world on “its head.”
Bill Squadron didn’t really know that much about soccer but being an attorney himself and having risen through the ranks of Murdoch’s organization no doubt due to his own “best efforts” understood the importance of what my partners from En-Linea.com brought to the table, with me simply being tasked with “spearheading” the “SmartBall” project, the same skillsets that the folks from Wetherly Capital sought from me in terms of the CAP water fund, the Wetherly Capital Group being the same organization who masterminded and executed the rigging of the California Gubernatorial elections held last November 8th, just two years to the day when folks like Michael Moore of Bowling For Columbine declared “foul”, after our President George W. Bush was declared the winner of the Presidential elections held November 8th 2002 by the Supreme Court of the United States and later in front of the Oscar audience spitting forth his filth, “Shame on u… President Fictitious Bush” and of course I include Mr. Moore on this email as well as the FBI et al.
One of my first “assignments” when I left Insurance Marketing Services had me bringing in King Golden Esq. “to assist” since although King is a “pothead” he also happens to be fun to work with as long as you r not in a subordinate roll, still very smart despite his “poor Altar Boy upbringing” which could be principally responsible for his formal education interfering with his learning.
Perhaps with the exception of Jeffrey R. Krinsk Esq. who may
have during a previous lifetime been King of England, very likely a benign
dictator, later executed, King Golden remains the smartest screwed up attorney
I have ever met although my one buddy Sidney Abelski,
a product of two holocaust survivors could “one on one” rip the
pants off King without King having the faintest idea as long as “His
Jesus” remained in tact; to this day I am still not quite able to get
over how quick King and Valerie were to kneel down and pray in this Catholic
Church in Mexico after their careers as attorneys came as close as it gets to
going down the tubes.
Interesting isn’t it how somehow each and every one of us when the chips are down find it within ourselves no matter how much we might make fun of those who use G-D as nothing short of a crutch, or simply bending “back & forth” like us Yids but get down on their hands and knees not always in places which have signs saying, “Dogs Keep Off” and once “back on their feet” look down on folks who consistently not only believe in G-D but act accordingly.
Now you are very possibly at this point saying sumthing along the lines of “F… Off” but given even your so limited formal education you should be able to come up with a more eloquent response and of course if you think there is anything I have said that is both untrue and damaging to your reputation then you know what you should do, certainly you should think very carefully about co-opting someone else to do your dirty work best illustrated by my wife’s at least twice divorced former husband, Dr. JBS, who on the steps leading up to her house on September 8th 2002 declared very clearly that his maniacal behavior had in large measure to [do] with both King Golden and Kathryn Murry “egging me on” [sic].
It wasn’t so much the fact that King Golden went to the best schools, my having no idea if he came top of his class at either Berkeley or the University of Virginia School of Law but if he didn’t it was only because he was like me distracted by beautiful women and thank G-d is all I can say since having King Golden in the White House compared to say an idiot like Bill Clinton there isn’t a Republican I know that would have prevented King Golden and his allies from taking over the world.
Just take a close look at his best buddy Roger Robinson who was in the National Security Counsel during President Reagan’s first term and remember King Golden is as left of center as they get, and of course I include Roger Robinson on this email, who I also happen to not only love, but I like him as well as his incredibly beautiful wife, nothing quite like having the best and the brightest behind every dumbass male.
Fortunately, unfortunately in my class at Carmel College we had the best looking group of Jewish girls who happened to be pretty smart and of course it wouldn’t surprise anyone who has ever worked with me that your first cousin, Marion Lazarus would be my first girlfriend, my tenaciousness overcoming my ugly duck looks, never to forget Mr. Golden at one time coming through “in the clutch” and why I remain hopeful he will get the message to clean up his act, pronto.
By the time I sat down in the offices of the General Manager of the consumer products division of Philips B.V. I had a pretty good game plan worked out but I still needed “smoking gun evidence” that they had in fact committed a “foul” and because Solly Krok had a bunch of idiots running his company in the United States responsible for incredibly stupid investment decisions, documentation all but non-existent, buying into legless Broadway Musicals and barbeque machines that once almost caused the Park Hotel in New York across from Central Park to collapse, the stench of the boiled meat perhaps worse than seeing men, women and children falling out of the Twin Towers a decade or so later, sumhow we are able to “turn a blind eye” but a rotting smell is sumthing rather difficult to erase from one’s brain especially those of us with heightened sensitivity.
Just on an hour ago I sent a “No thank u…” email to a Mr. Marc Mirmer who I spoke with late yesterday afternoon, 4:37PM PST to be precise in a conversation that I believe lasted 21 minutes and 38 seconds, “Mark” [sic] insisting that his property manager Iliana had not yet sent him the E-mail I had sent her 3+ hours earlier in the day, “Mark” [sic] now wanting to get the lease agreement between himself and my wife “put to bed” despite me telling him time and again to first read what I had “painstakingly” written that would allow him assuming this is not a situation of “The Fish Rotting From The Head Down” to make a “smart decision.”
As you can see from the last “No thank u” hyperlink Marc possibly thought that by throwing in “No Pets” that this would sumhow give him an easy way out of the mess he alone is responsible for creating since not only was “Mark” [sic] and his agent, Iliana, aware from the start that we had two dogs but on at least one occasion my dog was running all over the house with Iliana smiling from ear to ear, more importantly the document I believe my wife signed sum time ago providing him with all the necessary financial “due diligence” information made reference to us having “two dogs” and of course I copy Marc Mirmer on this email as well.
“Wether” [sic] or not Marc Imer buys one or a handful of my books Manager Minute One won’t probably make that much difference in the eventual success of this “one of kind” production, on the other hand if we don’t all find a way to better get along we are all in big dudu, and of course those who have lied, stolen and cheated the most have today the most at risk, their deficit needs beginning to interfere more and more with brain circuitry and of course if u r already brain dead then there is absolutely nothing to worry about.
By the time I had listened very carefully to the General Manager of Philips B.V. and his top engineers informing me of their “best efforts” to solve the engineering problems of this “Quickwheel” device that was designed to help mothers “in distress” on places like freeways when they encountered a flat tire, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a mangled Quickwheel deposited under the general manager’s credenza all the way across the room and summarily made my way over without even bothering to excuse myself from the table and “lo and behold” the jagged piece of metal I had kept in my Armani jacket pocket that came from the wreckage of one of these Quickwheels just outside the main headquarters of Epilady USA which was the “flagship” operation of the Krok family’s holdings in the United States, fitted in perfectly with the “wreckage” located under the credenza.
By the time I made my way back to the table the looks on the faces of the general manager and his engineers were a dead giveaway and at the moment I finished making my point,
“Are you now going to tell me that this wrecked Quickwheel under your credenza is just one of the prior engineering models which so happens to look exactly like the millions of dollars of inventory sitting in warehouses in Orange County California paid for in hard cash dollars by those nincompoops running Epilady USA who didn’t have the sense to first check with their insurance carrier whether such devices constituted weapons of mass destruction, to mention little of leaving it the demonstration of how these harpoons operate to you folks who have a vested interest in making a quick buck and then hiding behind offshore corporations, nothing quite like a Dutch Sandwich…” [sic]?
the doors to the general manger’s office opened and I along with a couple of “hand picked” advisors were escorted out of the Philips B.V.’s headquarters into the parking lot without another word being said.
And nor did anyone bother asking me for the jagged piece of metal I had in my pocket that came from the front wheel assembly of the Quickwheel damaged in the one and only “independent” test conducted on this fukukta device driven by the Chief Financial Officer of Epilady USA with King Golden in the front passenger seat allowing me the entire use of the backseat to cushion my rolls as King and I laughed our heads off as Stephen Ross, the CFO, seemed to be only worried about the damage done to his “spanking new” Mercedes that constituted about 2/10ths of 1% of the monies he and the other idiot another South African accountant had committed to spending on a device we later heard in Popular Mechanics or a magazine like it back in the late 1920s or early 30s describing the Quickwheel as nothing short of a worthless idea, Craig Shandler, Mr. Golden will remember holding out to the “bitter end” that he was nothing more than the Marketing Vice President who had apparently no say in a whole series of fictitious invoices issued that allowed these yoyos sum grand party.
By the way
So how could this all happen and why wouldn’t Solly Krok at least put his “top gun” attorneys to work, most like King Golden were pretty much “on retainer” or as sum might argue, “bought & paid 4” [sic] and the answer is simply Solly Krok put the lives of his family above that of his reputation, more of these details you will find in Manager Minute One.
Now, all I can ask of you is 4 u tu give of your “best efforts” to assist me in arriving at a comprehensive answer to that very important question and also understand I c no reason why you don’t ask those folks copied on this email as well as those blind copied who may contact you to help you with your answer and if you think you can duck this question, i.e. ignore me then u, like Terry Rosenberg, must take me for quite the idiot.
Furthermore, u shouldn’t be put out by my bothering you considering the email you sent out on July 01, 2002 9:57 AM, which took me a whole lot longer tu read than the 75 minutes it has taken me to type this email and that includes taking into consideration all the hyperlinks which actually take up most of my time.
Should u want a better explanation of what I mean by
“best efforts” may I suggest you email Bill Squadron who is copied
on this email and get from him possibly another more updated
explanation of what courts here in the
I am now off for more exercise with my dogs be4 joining my wife passing by the house where Percy H. Johnston’s son lives, last night Stephen mentioning to me that his son, Tony, had forwarded the email I sent to Jerry215 on Thursday, May 29, 2003 9:35 AM to a buddy of his at Harvard University thinking perhaps that someone dumb enough to pay the bucks to get an Ivy League education would be able follow a thing or possibly too I am saying other than what I mean what I say when I assure u that tonight’s outing on the Ducati ST4s is going to be one “hell of a ride” which stands to reason since hell is only here on earth, allowed to take root by those who refuse to stand tall, not simply to stand up to 1,000 pound gorillas such as Milberg Weiss Bershad Hynes and Lerach about to unravel but to the Capos who someonehow end up with the best seats in places like our Orthodox Jewish Temple on Silverton Road, just a hop-jump-and-a-scotch” [sic] from Musgrave Road.
And with the likes of G-d at my side I fear nothing, not yet quite able to c fully my behind, despite doing my Pilates.
Let me know when u r ready to enroll in my Bottoms Up Schooling [BUS].
Ps – we are all living on “borrowed time” and should you need any help in this matter feel free to give Mr. Jeffrey R. Krinsk a call at 1-619-238-1333 and tell Joseph if he answers the phone, “The Butler sent u”; there is a cutting I have somewhere of Ted Turner, a buddy of Valerie Schulte, making another of his pitiful remarks with the word, “Bulter” scrawled on it.
To: Gary S. Gevisser
Subject: RE: tTOo close...
Hello,pls remove my name from your spam list....this is a 2nd request.