Last Saturday there was a volcanic eruption in Tonga, the Polynesian archipelago where many too rich people like to spend their holidays undisturbed. I thought: John de Mol is lying there on a beach bed and probably received a message from his sister. Or a photo of the excited baton of his brother-in-law Jeroen-seed-on-your-shoe. Accidentally misdirected.
Did I watch the national unmasking of John de Mol’s cunt clippers club? Yes, but with my back to the tube. I thought: I won’t turn my chair until I hear a clear winner. That’s how it works officially The Voice? I like to follow the rules.
In the end I only turned when I heard John myself. Not because I saw him as the winner, but as the biggest loser of the bunch. What a fake crow. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone openly joke so many lumps. In 2019, John had heard one complaint about his brother-in-law and immediately showed the bastard around his room.
When I heard him say this, I wondered if I should call the Alzheimer’s Foundation. For advice. When is a patient ready for admission? This is amnesia that even our prime minister can suck at. Shouldn’t the commissioners at Talpa intervene immediately? Such a director is a real danger to the company. Normally in such a case you call a family member to discuss what should be done with the patient in question. But that’s complicated here. The whole family is sick to death and they are all up to their eyebrows in the same shit.
If John had to go to a hospital in view of his deplorable psychological condition, I would not send him to the VUmc in Amsterdam. That is from the university that received 250,000 euros from the Chinese government to tell them that the Uyghurs in China are not being oppressed. That subsidy has now been discontinued. Whether university types should be fired because of this? Don’t worry: they can get started at Talpa right away. It’s funny that less than ten years ago the same hospital was secretly full of cameras from another inferior television farmer. The patients were then unwittingly filmed by one Reinout Oerlemans, one of John de Mol’s best students. The hospital management initially cooperated with this. In short: I would not give my children that dirty voice let them participate, but also not let them study at the filthy VU.
Was that interview with John helpful? If I was Tim Hofman I would never have done it. After all these grumbling details, I had just left these viewing figures to their fate and let them race around distraught in their Porsches. Good luck John with your Marco, Ali and dirty Jeroentje. Plus all those other accomplices who knew about everything. On the other hand, it was neat from Hofman. Hear and hear. Perhaps Tim also knew that this conversation would only make the stain bigger.
Because that John is not a quick learner. Or has he never seen that famous BBC interview with British pedo prince Andrew? That ultimately meant the end of this royal child molester, who recently ran bloodthirsty on little piggies. No, not in our Kroondomein, but in his own allotment garden.
That interview spells the end of our John. The women are no longer silent after these lies. Friday via an anonymous advertisement, but just a little longer and everyone will dare to talk. John Ewbank’s sister must have started. She became like voicecandidate on the studio floor unwittingly twice and everyone saw it. But there was a here code so the men watched in silence. And John just didn’t happen to be there. While he was always there.
We are looking at the end of an era. And now? Ali and Marco should go on tour soon. Together with ‘dirty Jeroentje’. For example to Dubai or Tonga. There the rich people crave entertainment. And if they are still looking for a manager: Sywert has time!
A version of this article also appeared in NRC Handelsblad on 22 January 2022
A version of this article also appeared in NRC on the morning of January 22, 2022