You are incapable of “going off” on me, Primo. You can’t punch that far out of your weight class. The lawyer is a junior varsity trust attorney. My wife (of 26 years) is flabbergasted by your continued shitty, imperious attitude and Scott Walker-level lack of disclosure.
You purport to be a politician. Politics is about leadership; you have provided little if any since July 11.
On the other hand, you are capable of fiduciary mismanagement of our father’s trust (as you shall soon learn, it became his trust after his wife—our beloved Doris—predeceased him) and I am capable of attempting through all available legal and personal channels to rectify any malfeasance, mismanagement, or one-sided mis-interpretations.
Thanks for ruining my Saturday. And stop typing me emails before I have to fly up—as I did lovingly for your wedding—and kick your sorry ass.
You are about to piss me off.
On Oct 3, 2015, at 5:15 PM, Primo