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Ester die goele smijt met peper in de bedden. Vreselijk grappig, ha ha.
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Yep. Netwerk ligt uit. Stomme Telenet.
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Ik zit hier nu met een portable zonder draad, bah. ‘k Zal sebiets nog naar ’t werk moeten.
En blijkbaar is het netwerk hier dood. Enfin, het netwerk naar het internet. Straks de firewall eens heropstarten of zo. Of nog beter: gewoon het internet naar boven patchen.
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Al die primeurs vandaag: mijn eerste negatief commentaar gekregen vandaag (de twee hollanders die per mail klaagden over mijn gebrek aan enthousiasme voor De Ontdekking van de Hemel tellen niet mee, dat was geen commentaar op het weblog zelf).
Ene “ronny” ([email protected], volgens hemzelf) weet mij te zeggen:
wa voor een simpele druif zijde gij, moat
Pfuh. Omdat ik zei dat ik Ester een flauwe vond dat ze Heidi geen tongzoen wou geven?
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I still don’t get the Veronique story, btw. Just found a lot of photo pages on google.be and beyond. [Radio Free Blogistan’s Christian, in his comment to my recent entry in English]
Veronique De Kock is a 24 year old model, former Miss Belgium (1995), sometime singer and TV presenter, organiser of Miss Antwerp beauty pageants and a nice person altogether. Easy on the eyes, too.
She has nice breasts. There’s a rumour going around that she has implants. She denies the rumour. End of story, right?
Well, in a word: no. There has been an escalation these past few months of ever more insistent cries that she has had her breasts enhanced, and ever more categorical denials that she did nothing of the sort.
Things came to a head (so to speak) when Veronique decided to have her breasts x-rayed, had the photos published in P-Magazine (where she’s had many a swimsuit special over the years, by the way (down boy!)).
She thought she’d put the nasty rumour to bed when the x-rays looked nothing like, say, Lolo Ferrari’s monstrosities.
And then she appeared on De Laatste Show, a Flemish late-night talk show. The host, Bruno Wyndaele, a smug bastard if ever there was one, had the most irritating interview with her. On or off TV, the most condescending conversation I ever saw. The kind of situation where whatever you say or do, the other person goes “suuuuuuure” with an amused smile, and clearly doesn’t believe a word you say.
The worst thing about a situation like that is you can’t do anything about it. No matter what Veronique said, Wyndaele kept going on about x-rays not proving anything, and that she certainly had something to hide, and that she shouldn’t be ashamed to confess to having plastic surgery, and that if they were saline implants they wouldn’t show up on the x-rays, and that she couldn’t really prove those x-rays were of her chest anyway, etc. etc.
No to put too fine a point on it, by the end of the interview Veronique was livid. The very next day she went to a competing TV programme, Mediamadammen, and took the entire crew to a clinic where she had her bosom ultrasounded. The doctor taking the ultrasound exam was formal: there were no implants of any kind in Veronique De Cock breasts, saline or otherwise.
But still the controversy raged on. And then suddenly last week, on Thursday morning 12th of September, photos of Veronique De Kock without bra, naked, in monokini as it were, on the beach at St. Tropez, apparently taken by a paparazzo, appeared on the internet.
By Thursday afternoon the entire Belgian internet world knew about it, and on Friday the papers had the story, radio programmes went on about it, and Veronique herself had started taking legal action against the phtotographer and any sites that hosted the pictures.
And also by then, I was about the only site on the internet in Dutch that rated highly on Google (.be and .com) and that mentioned Vernoique De Kock, St. Tropez, her breasts, the fact that they were naked, and that I had the photos in my posession.
And the hits started rolling in.
So there. That’s why I’m still on top of the most-read blogs at Salon, five days after the De Kock storm started.
Oh yes; in case anyone’s wondering what all the hoopla is about: the pictures can be found (for the moment at least, I don’t know how long his server will be able to take the load) at Dextro’s web site:
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Ik ben dus niet op het werk geraakt tot deze middag. Blerg ik voel mij nog altijd niet goed, het duizelt allemaal voor mijn ogen.
Het nieuws van de dag (wat zeg ik, van de maand!) is dat de brave mens van Radio Free Blogistan naar hier gelinkt heeft. Yay! Erkenning!
Enfin, volgende post in tengels om RFB van antwoord te dienen.
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Ik ga gaan slapen wegens ziek en slecht. Bah. Misschien geraak ik morgen niet op het werk.
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Louis heeft bleinen op zijn spel. Brr ’t ziet er vies uit…
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Ha, en nu Room 101. Eentje die ik nog niet gezien had. Met Ricky Gervais. Die mij niets zegt.
Ho wacht! Nee! Da’s de mens van The Office! Waarvan er binnenkort een nieuwe serie komt! Yay!
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I wonder what Radio Free Blogistan makes of me. Here I am on top of the Salon rankings by page-reads for the last couple of days, and they can’t make heads or tails of the entire blog.
Should I clue them in on why I suddenly shot to the top of the ratings? Would they actually care?
I saw the reverse cowgirl’s blog (deservedly) shooting past me when she got a mention on Radio Blogistan, and I still see pornographer’s picks (undeservedly) sitting up there at #4–I don’t know about the other Salon bloggers, but I’m getting totally anal about checking Salon’s rankings page as I see myself slowly but surely creeping up from 17th position to 12th position.
Oh well, any day now the Veronique De Cock story is going to blow over and I’ll be back at my regular 150 or so hits per day. And I’ll be able to go back to having fun with the referers. Finding stuff like “Mike’s apartment password” (that’s been a while!) or eyesore (“tipoog” in Flemish, check it out on Google), or “Martine Tanghe”. Ah, those were the days… my first mention on Google… the day my weblog overtook my job description at Netpoint… Mmmm.
Look at me, barely a month and a half on Salon and an old fart already. Tch.
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Great! Een vol uur later en iemand heeft mijn weblog al een 1 op 10 gegeven. Haha!
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Oooh er komt een nieuwe serie van Dalziel en Pascoe. Wijs.
En voor wie zich afvraagt waarom Dalziel zo uitgesproken wordt: de “z” was eigenlijk oorspronkelijk een yogh (fricatieve y, voor de kenners), en die werd op termijn verward met een z. En vandaar dus dingen als Menzies (eigenlijk hetzelfde als Mingus). En Dalziel. Dat oorspronkelijk Dalyell uitgesproken werd en langzaam veranderde naar Deeyell, maar op de oude manier geschreven bleef.Interessante discussies over yogh trouwens. Of het al dan niet dezelfde letter is als ezh. Die mens is er redelijk van overtuigd: The Gaelic g is neither a YOGH nor an EZH. That some Old English editors use an EZH to represent the Gaelic g is not an argument for unifying YOGH and EZH. Toch fijn om zo overtuigingen te hebben.
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