A while ago, that idiot Tim den Besten was crying on Dutch television because, as a reporter during Gay Pride, he shouted at the boat of his colleague Nicolaas Veul: “Sinterklaas, come in with your servant!” had sung. Sinterklaasje hit Nicolaas. Truly a golden find. But what Tim was so emotional about: he had sung ‘servant’. And on Veul’s boat there were people with a tan. Indeed, terribly racist and absolutely inexcusable. The party leadership of Bij1 had an emergency meeting at Bij1.
Tim’s prolonged crying reaction was so strange to my old eyes that I thought: God child, are you sleeping enough? While half the world is fleeing raging wars, terrible famines and brutal climate disasters, you’re not going to sit around bitching about the word ‘servant’ that accidentally flew out of your overly enthusiastic mouth, are you? Isn’t there something completely different going on? This was a kind of woke psychosis. You can also be too good in these wonderful times.
I now understand that things were not going well with the presenter even then. Indeed, he didn’t sleep enough because he spent nights exchanging dirty talk with other horny men on a gay dating site. He did not do this under his own name, but via borrowed profiles from others. Those boys knew nothing and got into serious trouble because of Tim’s steamy gangbang fantasies, in which he wanted to rage like an excited horse. Three men have now filed a report against Tim, who also appears to be seriously ill.
It was news this week. Also nice among all the rockets, thousands of innocent child corpses, complicated anti-Semitism discussions and a tasteless one Volkskrant-cartoon by. I was actually ready for a sexually explicit celebrity scandal. The suffering of a lonely soul that undoubtedly results in a pleasant cancellation of the loser in question. Boulevard, Show news and all kinds of excited juice bitches like Jan Roos will have their hands full with this in the coming weeks. Conclusion? As a celebrity you have to pay more attention to your dick. Unknown Dutch people can do whatever they want with it with impunity, but as a polder star that is difficult. If you let your dick write all kinds of dirty things under a different name, then there is a chance that it will come true one day. Actually, it’s not news at all. Only because the gentleman in question is a celebrity. Otherwise it would have been a hammer decision in the subdistrict court.
In these times, when the world is desperately ablaze in too many places, I long for something different. Something useful. Perhaps that is why I was so struck last weekend by colleague Marcel Haenen’s account in this newspaper. His cry of alarm for the helpless penguin. In my opinion, by far the most sympathetic bird on earth. If only because the animal doesn’t make me jealous by pretending to fly. But feminists will also love them because they are so emancipated. The males incubate the eggs. At minus 40 degrees! While the ladies go out for a nice meal. They only sit on the egg when the chick comes. Poop madams.
Also read
everything from the penguins is stolen