In an Amsterdam tram I sat opposite a gentleman who made strange faces. As if he was holding in his shit. A girl of about ten asked her mother in a whisper why that gentleman looked so difficult and was shifting so strangely on his bench. Mom had no idea.
Maybe he was just playing chess on his cell phone and was in contact with a chess computer via anal beads, which came up with almost ten thousand moves for him within two seconds. Via AI, of course. The best moves were sent to the beads with a code, which is why he looked so strange every now and then. For example, in the event of an unexpected horse jump.
I thought of the innocent book Uncle Jan teaches his nephew to play chess, which taught me the principles of the noble game of chess in my younger years. Will Uncle Jan explain to his nephew in the updated version how to insert the beads painlessly and through which site he has the best chance of winning? And what does Uncle Jan teach his niece?
I was reading the news on my phone about top chef Aurélien Largeau, who has to do the dishes in the star restaurant named after himself in Biarritz, France, because he stuck a carrot between the buttocks of an intern during an initiation ritual. The intern then had to stand in that kitchen completely naked for a few hours with that carrot between his buttocks and an apple in his mouth. Gastronomic frat humor.
I’m afraid that Largeau saw it as something innocent. When he was young, he had to dance on a hot stove for four days with a turnip attached to his cock while pearl onions were shot at him. You’re not allowed to do anything anymore. Personally, I only think one thing is important in this case: who ate that carrot?
It was busy in the tram. Where did everyone go? A cuddle salon? These are serious stores where you can satisfy your skin hunger by lying against someone for an hour. In pajamas and for a fee, of course. But if you want the cuddle coach to put her index finger in your ear, that is also possible. She must have known that ear for a while. Whether the coach also wants to pick your nose is not stated on the site, which does tell everything about the intimacy vacuum that many modern people find themselves in. That’s what an official certified coach says.
I think it would be wonderful to tell my neighbor while cuddling cows that I am a certified intimacy coach. I once stood in front of a cat café in Paris where all kinds of prudish-looking ladies were petting cats. The owner then explained to me that the cats were also extremely lonely. I nodded understandingly and before he wanted to elaborate I said that my French was terrible.
Speaking of prudish ladies: I was amused to read an article about the chronically lying Cora van Nieuwenhuizen, who turns out to be just a mafia jock. The term jokstol also comes from my best friend, who gets extremely excited about this kind of scum in a suit. This lying beast is one of the reasons why his VVD will soon become a splinter. If the party doesn’t disappear completely because of these fossil types. Yesilgöz is already seen as a hospice worker. Deathbed attendant.
Will our Cora come out with a glass of bubbles at the coming New Year’s Eve to wish the neighbors a nice 2024 or will she stay inside this time because she is a bit afraid of the noise? And what does Kaag do? Once afraid of a wappie with a torch in front of the door and now she is going to Gaza. For reconstruction. Should they wait until the Israelis have finished throwing bombs? How long will that take? A century or two. And maybe four. Will she start with a fireworks ban? And that reconstruction? Maybe she will call Mark and ask how we handled that again in Groningen. Oh well, everything is a chess game where the beads matter. The banal beads.