The usually well-coiffed anchorman was not satisfied with his haircut and aggressively ordered the already unstable make-up artist to reveal her hair dryer.
The incident was just one of the racy things in the delightful, meticulous reconstruction of the years of terror in which mostly anonymous ex-employees spoke of their miserable experiences under the apparently amiable patron who is now BFF of Snollebollekes frontman Rob Kemps.
What followed was a cascade of shuffling, street sweeping and finger-pointing at Champions League level by broadcasting bosses, editors-in-chief, Dieuwke and video director Frans Klein, a highly vain loner (and co-owner of a Thai restaurant in Amsterdam, where you for some reason you can only pay with cash) who, in order to keep the God’s Envoy coûte que coûte for the public broadcaster, had swept his conduite under the rug for years and often even went to talk shows to get to Matthij with all kinds of flattery .
The Dutch talk shows immediately went into automatic pilot mode. A variety of hotemets made an appearance. Tout Hilversum was stupefied. On Monday, the goose-with-the-golden-eggs was attacked by late-night host avant la lettre Frits Barend and the unavoidable Thomas van Groningen at On 1Filemon Wesselink and Roos Schlikker HLF8and Angela de Jong and Janke Dekker Beau. The next day the mosaic about the abuses existed DWDD from Early birdscelebrity Menno Bentveld and Astrid Joosten (On 1), Jan Slagter and yet again Angela de Jong (Beau), and Fidan Ekiz, Fred Teeven (?!) and Jack van Gelder (HLF 8). On Wednesday there was an exclusive tête-à-tête with the disastrous hair dryer lady Beauwho also had Jackal reunionists Frank Evenblij and Jackal Erik participate in the cacophony of recognition and indignation on Thursday.
And then were Khalid & Sophia still on World Cup recess.
Also the gentlemen of the past Veronica Inside more than frequently refreshed themselves from the debacle of their competitor (porte-manteau!). After all, they too had been the protagonist in a by no means miniscule consternation. While the well-moustached retired editor-in-chief was recently brutally canceled by the wok brigade because of the erroneous avouching of a time-barred candle rape, writers now heard him cheerfully: ‘I once ate a hairy cunt completely bald’, when they shouted with a good glass of kambabuli zapped past the stallion ball. Good day.
Fornication at talent shows, harlequinades about desecrations with candles, Matthijs goes crazy – the patriotic talk show is a cannibalizing golem that thrives best on wringing out media abuses. A predisposition she shares with the navel-gazing discourse in the conference rooms in The Hague, where, after the umpteenth internal hassle, even the observation of the Member of Parliament that ‘we are talking about ourselves again’ has in no time become one of the more jaded clichés. This was the dictation.