The forbidden pervy-pantied manlove karaoke duets of Farmers Insurance CEO Bob Woudstra and his dark German overlord Herr Doktorfuhrer Manfred Gentz

December 22nd, 2009

The

faithful reader

interested in my property

insurance life — and really, who isn’t

thrilled by a good property insurance tale? — will

recall my initial reporting about how Farmers Insurance CEO

Bob Woudstra and his Cherman fuhrer Manfred Gentz play golf in their panties

while hatching plots for converting greater and greater amounts of their

companies’ premium income into memberships and greens fees

at the world’s toniest golf clubs rather than paying

the claims of the customers who pay

for their putters and

panties.

As of

December 16th,

Bob and Manny owed me $39,008.59

for a stereo, television, and MacBook Pro (and some

fees, more on that later) that got fried in the second explosive

electrical surge I’ve experienced in my new home.  On both occasions,

the surge took only half of my house out, and it left the circuit breaker box wholly

undisturbed.  Sorry to get technical when what you really want is to hear about

the manlove-in-panties, but that shows that Xcel wired something wrong

when my palace was constructed.  They admitted as much shortly

after the place was done and dug up half the property

re-doing their work, but still didn’t get

it right.  Farmers knows

all this.

They

know all this because

I have gone to a lot of trouble to document

Xcel’s confirmation of these “events” for them.  I don’t

have to do this, Farmers insure the property and it’s their job to pay

for electrical damage and then sort out the details, but I’m a nice fellow and

I don’t think Farmers should get financially stuck for something Xcel

has so plainly screwed up.  So I cajole Xcel into sending me

a letter each time a squirrel jumps on a wire and there’s

a huge explosion outside my house and

I can’t listen to Keb Mo

anymore.

And

Farmers always has these

letters five minutes after I open them.  I’m good

about documenting things.  Like when the

surge this time made my

laptop get a trifle

funky –

I called

my charming young adjuster,

Brittni Girk, who couldn’t come out for ten days

or so, and told her I was publishing a new book about the

President of the United States and the wars that are bankrupting our

country, and designing a new website, and that I could not be without my now

non-working MacBook Pro.  I had tried to get it fixed, and Apple’s

replacement of the logic board failed, and I followed

her instructions to the letter in obtaining and

sending her the documentation she said

was necessary to replace

my laptop:

And

then the receipt

for my new

laptop:

So,

as you can see,

I’m dotting i’s and crossing t’s

everywhere you look.  But Bob Woudstra and

Manfred Gentz, who golf in panties and enjoy steamy manlove

karaoke duets at the 19th hole of the world’s toniest golf resorts, want

to fuck me.  So, nearly two months after all this went down, was documented

and re-documented and over-documented, they not only haven’t paid

me, but they’re hiring people, including Skadden, Arps, Slate,

Meagher & Flom, one of the world’s most powerful

and expensive law firms, to try to hold me

down so they can fuck me

harder.

Skadden

(and some other folks whose

names will be withheld for the time being)

are combing over my life

in all sorts of

ways:

That’s

by far the

most innocuous of them.

There are others which involve the invasion

of my privacy and are likely going to lead to lawsuits against

Farmers (and others) who are funding all this with the money their

customers pay in premiums and which they are honor-bound

to pay out in legitimate claims

(like mine, eh,

Bob!)

I’ve

warned the pink-pantied

Bob about all this, up one side

and down the other.  I reminded him what the law was

and what the circumstances are and what his plain legal obligation is

to me under the terms of our insurance contract.  I warned him that if he and

Manny kept trying to fuck me rather than going after Xcel, who are clearly at

fault, I would tell the world, and do it in a way that humiliated him.  But

Bob doesn’t want to listen, and he certainly doesn’t respond to any

of my communications.  I guess he doesn’t want to tangle with

Xcel, because they have mountains o’ dough and lawyers

(and other dirtbags) just like he does.  He’d rather

try to have his own dirtbags hold

me down so he can

fuck me.

All this,

I remind you, as I have

a new book coming out and am trying

to feed myself and discuss some

very serious stuff going on in

this country.

So some

very digitally-adept elves

are making some videos about Bob

Woudstra and Manfred Gentz and how they

golf in panties and enjoy steamy manlove karaoke duets

while hatching plots for converting greater and greater amounts

of their companies’ premium income into memberships and greens fees at

the world’s toniest golf clubs rather than paying the claims of the

customers who pay for their putters and panties.  The photo at

the top of this post is an outtake from one of the new videos,

which are going to (deservedly) do to Farmers Insurance’s

reputation what Dave Carroll’s “United Breaks

Guitars” videos have done for

United Airlines.

Those

photos will be appearing

on a very slick new website, slick like

this one only different, devoted to this whole

subject of Farmers’ defrauding customers (and the

all-important karaoke manlove in panties).  Because I’ve

had to spend a buttload of time dealing with these be-pantied

bastards, writing stuff like this, writing lengthy emails to them outlining

their plain-as-day obligations, designing a new website, writing the

scripts for the videos, directing the work of the digital elves,

Bob and Manny owe me more than the twenty grand they

owed me for electronic gear in early November.

I recounted their fees up to December 16th

in this post.

Since
that date, Bob,
there are the following new
fees (I will be communicating with you
publicly now, first here and then at the new site,
because you don’t respond to private entreaties, and to
make it easier for your lawyers and private
investigators and various and sundry
other dirtbags to access the ongoing
conversation):

Non-payment
of legitimate claim fee, $1,000/day,
12/16-12/22, inclusive: $7,000; First imposition
of the Bob Woudstra Memorial Fuck the Little People Tax:
$1,500; BW Hates Working on Websites But You’re Making Him
Work on a Couple for You fees, $3,000/day, 12/16-12/22,
inclusive: $21,000. Sub-total: $29,500. Added to the
12/16 sub-total of $39,008.59, that brings your new
total to $68,508.59. No personal checks,
please. I trust you understand,
given the present
circumstances.

That’s
more than you spent
on Skadden and your other scumbags
yesterday, Bob — not by much, but it is. Explain that
to Dr. Gentz. Explain it to your customers. Explain it to the
world. Start a new website about it, and use a bunch
of music and video, people eat that up. Make it

funny and sexy and sharp. That’s

what I’m doing.