From: Gary S. Gevisser [
Sent:
To: '
Cc: rest
Subject: URGENT
UPDATE ON EUROPEAN UNION PROTEST
Dear Norman,
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
1.
Re-sign and send the
protest
2.
Tell a friend to sign the
protest
3.
Sign the Protest if you
have not yet participated
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.
-----Original Message-----
From:
Sent:
To: Gary S. Gevisser
Subject: RE: tTOo close...
Hello,pls remove my
name from your spam
list....this is a 2nd request.
Thks
