Mr. Sell: For Christ's sake, don't answer the Mad Monk's post! Can you see he is trying to provoke you into a confrontation? How do you think he earned his name "MAD" Monk?
Before you meet him, call Mr. Takahashi of the West Los Angeles Karate School and ask the Sensai what form of Martial Arts results in "messed up hands with calluses and no finger nails."
I wonder... Mr. Sell, aren't monks supposed to be a very tranquil group of guys? How the hell did this freak find his way to Wall St. (or any back alley)?
Call the UCLA Medical Center (310-825-4321) and ask for the record of a patient named Gorman or Gomez admitted in the ER on November, 1991 at around 1:00 am. He was a salesman who, in his over-zealous way, wanted to sell his Saturday's Special to an old man with messed up hands in the parking lot of a sushi bar in Malibu. Ask the doctor how long it took to remove the broken trigger guard from the patient's palm which, as a result, caused permanent damage to the use of the patient's fingers, which were crushed anyways...
If you would like to answer his mad call, bring your "home-boys" along as backup and don't let him get near you. When his chauffeur brings forth a bottle of sake in a portable warmer, jump into your low-rider and split. He's mad! He wants your nuts, I know. I read from Playboy that teenagers in Tokyo like to swallow pig testicles with warm sake as an aphrodisiac. Is this true, Mr. Jade Beranek? Have
your boys check it out in Japan.
Respectfully,
Q3 |
