Produce the postcard Keshav. . Your home/business address is on your website. It's obviously not private so your pitiful excuse that you dont want people to see your address is another lie. The hole your digging is getting mighty deep
Your grasping at straws is sad.
The people here that have met me on this site have seen my business and met my family.
I have posted a photo of a previous bike I owned. Find the thread where Geo's talking about his GPZ.
You stated above Jum stuck his kids around someone doing drugs
Anything else you want to debunk?
Addendum for Ascari: if you're paying attention Keshav has insulted me repeatedly in this thread. I have not insulted him in any of them unless you consider sad and old man a threat. If the tables were turned I would have the word BANNED written under my name
My HOME address is not posted on FB.
And that is the last I have to say about that.
Interestingly - I was hanging out at the coffee shop with one of my neighbors last night - who is an elderly Hassidic Jew named Sy who is one of the wisest guys I know. We were both talking about this and that and I mentioned my frustration with having to deal with knuckle heads on this site and in the world in general. And this is what he said:
Old Man. When you're walking down the street and you see four steaming turds on the sidewalk, do you walk toward them? Or do you veer away?
Me. Away
Old Man. Good he says. So.... if you see four steaming turds on the sidewalk do you stop to take the time to tell them that they are steaming turds?
Me. Uhh.. no.
Old Man. Good answer... of course not. So lets take this a step further. If you accidentally step in .... do you waste hours trying to reason with the steaming turd or apologize for stepping on it?
Me. Heck no.
Old Man. Exactly. And let me ask you this; do you care what a steaming turd thinks about you?
Me. Should I?
Old Man. No - what are you a schmuck? Of course not! Steaming turds have no brains. Not even when there's four of them together. Their opinions only matter to other steaming turds.
Me. I think I'm starting to see where this is going.
Old Man. I should hope so bubbie because life is too short to waste on steaming turds.
So I ordered him a refill on his coffee and paid his tab and we walked out in the chill night on the Lower East Side, and when I reached a grassy piece of ground I wiped the bottom of my shoe and off came the remains of the four steaming turds. I had learned my lesson. In conclusion, if at some time in the future I should inadvertently step on one of you remember, I sometimes just don't watch where I'm walking. It's nothing personal.
