Column | Cancer Chill – NRC

While I was still hitting the hilarious fact that Our Minister Faber seriously said that an afternoon of Efteling might have a suction effect on other refugees, I heard one gay say to the other: « How did he know I was Bottom? »

This happened on Thursday afternoon on the train from Rotterdam to Amsterdam. I thought it was a rather privacy -sensitive announcement that didn’t concern me, but the young man in question clearly did not find that. The friend with whom he thorn this problem was right opposite him, but they both spoke with a volume as if there was a football field in between. This allowed the entire train compartment to literally understand everything. Let me call it a clarifying in -service training course. I had to google a number of concepts on the spot, but I am now completely up to date. This weekend I can go into the darkroom without a coach.

On Friday morning I drank a cup of coffee in a tent next to an Amsterdam hospital and there I could literally follow two women at the table next to me. The one had just been treated with her sick eye and explained to the lady opposite her what the doctor had done. Also this time I felt that it was not concerned me, but these ladies spoke to each other as if one was on four -high and the other was deep in the basement.

I felt slightly embarrassed because it was so terribly private both times. The adolescent in me did tend to talk very hard too. And preferably about the most filthy ailments. Itchy hemorrhoids, simmering prostates and dwarfs with the elephant disease. I preferred to do that in a very chic star restaurant. An excellent location for these types of things.

Although? In any case, I have been getting more and more tendency to call more harder in public spaces. Especially about things that I really don’t understand. Example? That Israel can participate in that strange song festival, because the EBU does not do politics I understand. But why is Russia refused?

Why the nicotinemaffios Philip Morris can consciously make children addicted to the most filthy vaproep, while they know that there is more nicotine in such a tank with that junk to be inhaled than in a packet of butts? And why doesn’t the CEO of this lung cancer giant appear once in a quiet television program to explain to pulmonologist Wanda De Kanter why he is pumping this unscrupulous stuff into teenagers? Perhaps funny to borrow the coffin from the EO of the EO of the same name for that discussion. And then we ask that nice Kefah Allush as a discussion leader. I would like to know everything about that black cube at Bergen op Zoom. How many kilos of cancer fits in?

I also want to shout to the keeper of FC Groningen if he knows that the word football comes from foot against the ball and not from kicking a head. And certainly not from someone who is already on the floor while the game is over? And I want to ask the KNVB if those images will be viewed. Or was the VAR home already home?

I let that free plane from Trump rest. The president may legally take on presents of up to $ 400. How does he book it 399,999,600 dollars? Musk probably has a trick.

I also want to scales through the House of Representatives why the stupid BBB does not want to accept the now convincing evidence that agricultural poison makes people sick. Also farmers. Why don’t you want to forbid that? And against Caroline van der Plas I want to scream if she goes on a working visit to the six GPs Drenthe who have clearly demonstrated that there are cancer and various neurological disorders through their villages. Cause? The agricultural poison. And nothing else.

Enough to scream.

But for the time being the weekend is and I whisper to our intimacy coach that I am Bottom for the time being. Except when Ajax becomes champion.

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