Entertainment
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Overleden in showbizzland - deel 2
zaterdag 26 november 2016 om 18:27
quote:zandlopertje schreef op 26 november 2016 @ 14:45:
Geen bn-er maar wel een beetje bekend. De moeder van Bor Verkroost is overleden. Bor was die jongen met de huidziekte Epidermolysis Bullosa. Hij was een paar keer te gast bij Rtl Late Night. Hij stierf eind juni op de leeftijd van 37 jaar. Zijn as is volgens zijn wens eind oktober verstrooid op het Forum Romanum in Rome wegens zijn fascinatie voor het Romeinse Rijk. Zijn moeder Catharina, die Bor alleen heeft opgevoed overleed vorige week plotseling in haar slaap. Haar huisarts constateerde een acute hartstilstand. Hij noemde het 'een gebroken hart'. Ze werd 69 jaar.Goh wat triest, en nog zo jong.
Geen bn-er maar wel een beetje bekend. De moeder van Bor Verkroost is overleden. Bor was die jongen met de huidziekte Epidermolysis Bullosa. Hij was een paar keer te gast bij Rtl Late Night. Hij stierf eind juni op de leeftijd van 37 jaar. Zijn as is volgens zijn wens eind oktober verstrooid op het Forum Romanum in Rome wegens zijn fascinatie voor het Romeinse Rijk. Zijn moeder Catharina, die Bor alleen heeft opgevoed overleed vorige week plotseling in haar slaap. Haar huisarts constateerde een acute hartstilstand. Hij noemde het 'een gebroken hart'. Ze werd 69 jaar.Goh wat triest, en nog zo jong.
Ontbijt: Een Smoothie banaan Lunch: Een cracker/avocado en guinoa salade Diner:57 pizza broodjes,13 donuts,2 bakken gefrituurde kipkluif, 9 Rosé
zaterdag 26 november 2016 om 18:54
Fidel Castro - de volksmenner is 10 jaar na het overdragen van zijn macht aan broer Raúl op 90-jarige leeftijd overleden. Deze heeft veel slachtoffers en JFK overleefd. Die heeft toch wel een sterke stempel op de geschiedenis gedrukt.
Het volk viert feest. Er verandert niet veel, maar een icoon van onderdrukking is volgens die mensen dood.
https://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fidel_Castro Lees maar wat er staat.
(Ach, Harry Mulisch was een aanhanger van Castra. Ik vind ze beiden niks.)
Fidel Castro heeft wel bijna langer dan een halve eeuw het wereldnieuws beheerst.
Het volk viert feest. Er verandert niet veel, maar een icoon van onderdrukking is volgens die mensen dood.
https://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fidel_Castro Lees maar wat er staat.
(Ach, Harry Mulisch was een aanhanger van Castra. Ik vind ze beiden niks.)
Fidel Castro heeft wel bijna langer dan een halve eeuw het wereldnieuws beheerst.
vrijdag 2 december 2016 om 05:36
Fawlty Towers star Andrew Sachs dies, 86: Widow pays emotional farewell as she reveals his SECRET four-year battle with dementia - and how she ended up in intensive care after looking after him
Mr Sachs passed away at care home last week and was buried on Thursday
Wife revealed how he had been diagnosed with vascular dementia in 2012
Beloved actor was best known for his iconic role as Spanish waiter Manuel
In 2008 he was victim of a cruel prank by Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.u ... ng-him.html#ixzz4ReUS0AbQ
Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook
Mr Sachs passed away at care home last week and was buried on Thursday
Wife revealed how he had been diagnosed with vascular dementia in 2012
Beloved actor was best known for his iconic role as Spanish waiter Manuel
In 2008 he was victim of a cruel prank by Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.u ... ng-him.html#ixzz4ReUS0AbQ
Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook
Ik verbaas me erover dat de buitenkant van de dingen zoveel verbergt.
vrijdag 2 december 2016 om 06:55
vrijdag 2 december 2016 om 08:06
Basil Fawlty: Where's Sybil?
Manuel: ¿Que?
Basil Fawlty: Where's Sybil?
Manuel: Where's... the bill?
Basil Fawlty: No, not a bill! I own the place!
Sybil Fawlty: [on the phone] I know... I know... I know... Oh, I know!
Basil Fawlty: Then why is she telling you?
Basil Fawlty: Manuel will show you to your rooms - if you're lucky.
Basil Fawlty: We have a Spanish porter at the moment, he's from Barcelona. It'd be quicker to train an *ape*!
Manuel: ¿Que?
Basil Fawlty: Where's Sybil?
Manuel: Where's... the bill?
Basil Fawlty: No, not a bill! I own the place!
Sybil Fawlty: [on the phone] I know... I know... I know... Oh, I know!
Basil Fawlty: Then why is she telling you?
Basil Fawlty: Manuel will show you to your rooms - if you're lucky.
Basil Fawlty: We have a Spanish porter at the moment, he's from Barcelona. It'd be quicker to train an *ape*!
Ik verbaas me erover dat de buitenkant van de dingen zoveel verbergt.
vrijdag 2 december 2016 om 08:13
Mrs. Richards: Are you the manager?
Basil Fawlty: I am the owner, madam.
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: I am the owner.
Mrs. Richards: I want to speak to the manager.
Basil Fawlty: I am the manager, too.
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: I am the manager as well.
Manuel: Manajer, he manajer.
[Basil smacks him]
Mrs. Richards: Oh, you're Watt!
Basil Fawlty: I'm the manager!
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: I'm the manager!
Mrs. Richards: Yes, I know, you've just told me. What's the matter with you?
Mrs. Richards: [to Polly, acidly] Isn't there anyone else who could help me? Really! This is the most appalling service I've ever...
Polly: What a good idea. Manuel? Could you lend Mrs. Richards your assistance in connection with her reservation?
[Manuel looks around, confused]
Mrs. Richards: [to Manuel] Now, I reserved a very quiet room with a bath and a sea view. I specifically asked for a sea view in my written confirmation, so please make sure I have it.
Manuel: Que?
Mrs. Richards: What?
Manuel: Que?
Mrs. Richards: Kay?
Manuel: Si.
Mrs. Richards: Sea?
[Manuel nods]
Mrs. Richards: Kay, sea? Kay sea? What are you trying to say?
Manuel: No. No, no, no. Que... what.
Mrs. Richards: Kay Watt?
Manuel: Si, que: what.
Mrs. Richards: C.K. Watt?
Manuel: Yes!
Mrs. Richards: Who is C. K. Watt?
Manuel: Que?
Mrs. Richards: Is he the manager, Mr. Watt?
Manuel: Oh, manajer!
Mrs. Richards: He is?
Manuel: Ah, Mister Fawlty!
Mrs. Richards: What?
Manuel: Fawlty!
Mrs. Richards: What are you talking about, you silly little man?
Mrs. Richards: [to Polly] What is going on here? I ask him for my room and he tells me the manager is a Mr. Watt, aged forty.
Manuel: No, no, no, no. FAWLTY!
Mrs. Richards: He's faulty? What's wrong with him?
Polly: It's all right, Mrs. Richards. He's from Barcelona.
Mrs. Richards: The manager's from Barcelona?
Manuel: No, no, no, he's from-a Swanage.
Polly: And you're in 22.
Mrs. Richards: What?
Polly: You're in Room 22. Manuel, take these cases up to 22, will you?
Mrs. Richards: Now, listen to me. I'm not satisfied, but I've decided to stay here; however, I shall expect a reduction.
Basil Fawlty: Why? Because Krakatoa's not erupting at the moment?
Mrs. Richards: No, because the room is cold, the bath is too small, the view is invisible, and the radio doesn't work.
Basil Fawlty: No, the radio works. You don't.
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: [crossing over to it] I'll see if I can't fix it, you scabby old bat!
[He turns it on, loudly; it works fine; Manuel plugs his ears]
Basil Fawlty: I think we got something then!
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: [loudly] I think we got something then!
Mrs. Richards: [looking at Manuel with his fingers in his ears] What ARE you doing?
Manuel: Que?
Basil Fawlty: [after smacking Manuel's head] Madam, don't think me rude, but, may I ask, do you by any chance have a hearing aid?
Mrs. Richards: A what?
Basil Fawlty: A HEARING AID!
Mrs. Richards: Yes, I do have a hearing aid.
Basil Fawlty: Would you like me to get it mended?
Mrs. Richards: Mended? It's working perfectly all right.
Basil Fawlty: No, it isn't.
Mrs. Richards: I haven't got it turned on at the moment.
Basil Fawlty: Why not?
Mrs. Richards: The battery runs down.
Manuel: Ah, your horse. It win! It win!
Basil Fawlty: [wanting him to keep quiet about his gambling venture] Shhh-shh-shh, Manuel. You - know - nothing.
Manuel: You ALWAYS say, Mr. Fawlty, but I learn.
Basil Fawlty: What?
Manuel: I learn. I learn.
Basil Fawlty: No-no-no-no-no.
Manuel: I get better.
Basil Fawlty: No-no. No-no, you don't understand.
Manuel: I do.
Basil Fawlty: No, you don't.
Manuel: Hey, I do understand that!
Basil Fawlty: Shhh-shh-shh-shh-shh. You know nothing... about... the horse.
Manuel: [parroting] I know "nothing... about... the horse."
Basil Fawlty: Yes.
Manuel: Ah. Which horse?
Basil Fawlty: What?
Manuel: Which horse I know nothing?
Basil Fawlty: My horse, nitwit!
Manuel: Your horse - Nitwit.
Basil Fawlty: No-no-no. Dragonfly.
Manuel: It won!
Basil Fawlty: Yes, I know!
Manuel: I know it won, too!
Basil Fawlty: What?
Manuel: I put money on for you. You give me money; I go to betting shop.
Basil Fawlty: Yes, I know, I know, I know.
Manuel: Then why you say I know nothing?
Basil Fawlty: [desperately] Look, look, look, you know the horse?
Manuel: Uh, Nitwit or Dragonfly?
Basil Fawlty: Dragonfly! There isn't a horse called Nit... YOU'RE the Nitwit!
Manuel: What is Witnit?
Basil Fawlty: It doesn't matter. Look, it doesn't matter. Oh, I can spend the rest of my life having this conversation. Now, please, please, try to understand before one of us dies.
Manuel: I try.
Basil Fawlty: You're going to forget everything you know about Nitwit.
Manuel: No, no. Dragonfly.
Basil Fawlty: Dragonfly!
Manuel: I know nothing.
Basil Fawlty: I am the owner, madam.
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: I am the owner.
Mrs. Richards: I want to speak to the manager.
Basil Fawlty: I am the manager, too.
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: I am the manager as well.
Manuel: Manajer, he manajer.
[Basil smacks him]
Mrs. Richards: Oh, you're Watt!
Basil Fawlty: I'm the manager!
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: I'm the manager!
Mrs. Richards: Yes, I know, you've just told me. What's the matter with you?
Mrs. Richards: [to Polly, acidly] Isn't there anyone else who could help me? Really! This is the most appalling service I've ever...
Polly: What a good idea. Manuel? Could you lend Mrs. Richards your assistance in connection with her reservation?
[Manuel looks around, confused]
Mrs. Richards: [to Manuel] Now, I reserved a very quiet room with a bath and a sea view. I specifically asked for a sea view in my written confirmation, so please make sure I have it.
Manuel: Que?
Mrs. Richards: What?
Manuel: Que?
Mrs. Richards: Kay?
Manuel: Si.
Mrs. Richards: Sea?
[Manuel nods]
Mrs. Richards: Kay, sea? Kay sea? What are you trying to say?
Manuel: No. No, no, no. Que... what.
Mrs. Richards: Kay Watt?
Manuel: Si, que: what.
Mrs. Richards: C.K. Watt?
Manuel: Yes!
Mrs. Richards: Who is C. K. Watt?
Manuel: Que?
Mrs. Richards: Is he the manager, Mr. Watt?
Manuel: Oh, manajer!
Mrs. Richards: He is?
Manuel: Ah, Mister Fawlty!
Mrs. Richards: What?
Manuel: Fawlty!
Mrs. Richards: What are you talking about, you silly little man?
Mrs. Richards: [to Polly] What is going on here? I ask him for my room and he tells me the manager is a Mr. Watt, aged forty.
Manuel: No, no, no, no. FAWLTY!
Mrs. Richards: He's faulty? What's wrong with him?
Polly: It's all right, Mrs. Richards. He's from Barcelona.
Mrs. Richards: The manager's from Barcelona?
Manuel: No, no, no, he's from-a Swanage.
Polly: And you're in 22.
Mrs. Richards: What?
Polly: You're in Room 22. Manuel, take these cases up to 22, will you?
Mrs. Richards: Now, listen to me. I'm not satisfied, but I've decided to stay here; however, I shall expect a reduction.
Basil Fawlty: Why? Because Krakatoa's not erupting at the moment?
Mrs. Richards: No, because the room is cold, the bath is too small, the view is invisible, and the radio doesn't work.
Basil Fawlty: No, the radio works. You don't.
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: [crossing over to it] I'll see if I can't fix it, you scabby old bat!
[He turns it on, loudly; it works fine; Manuel plugs his ears]
Basil Fawlty: I think we got something then!
Mrs. Richards: What?
Basil Fawlty: [loudly] I think we got something then!
Mrs. Richards: [looking at Manuel with his fingers in his ears] What ARE you doing?
Manuel: Que?
Basil Fawlty: [after smacking Manuel's head] Madam, don't think me rude, but, may I ask, do you by any chance have a hearing aid?
Mrs. Richards: A what?
Basil Fawlty: A HEARING AID!
Mrs. Richards: Yes, I do have a hearing aid.
Basil Fawlty: Would you like me to get it mended?
Mrs. Richards: Mended? It's working perfectly all right.
Basil Fawlty: No, it isn't.
Mrs. Richards: I haven't got it turned on at the moment.
Basil Fawlty: Why not?
Mrs. Richards: The battery runs down.
Manuel: Ah, your horse. It win! It win!
Basil Fawlty: [wanting him to keep quiet about his gambling venture] Shhh-shh-shh, Manuel. You - know - nothing.
Manuel: You ALWAYS say, Mr. Fawlty, but I learn.
Basil Fawlty: What?
Manuel: I learn. I learn.
Basil Fawlty: No-no-no-no-no.
Manuel: I get better.
Basil Fawlty: No-no. No-no, you don't understand.
Manuel: I do.
Basil Fawlty: No, you don't.
Manuel: Hey, I do understand that!
Basil Fawlty: Shhh-shh-shh-shh-shh. You know nothing... about... the horse.
Manuel: [parroting] I know "nothing... about... the horse."
Basil Fawlty: Yes.
Manuel: Ah. Which horse?
Basil Fawlty: What?
Manuel: Which horse I know nothing?
Basil Fawlty: My horse, nitwit!
Manuel: Your horse - Nitwit.
Basil Fawlty: No-no-no. Dragonfly.
Manuel: It won!
Basil Fawlty: Yes, I know!
Manuel: I know it won, too!
Basil Fawlty: What?
Manuel: I put money on for you. You give me money; I go to betting shop.
Basil Fawlty: Yes, I know, I know, I know.
Manuel: Then why you say I know nothing?
Basil Fawlty: [desperately] Look, look, look, you know the horse?
Manuel: Uh, Nitwit or Dragonfly?
Basil Fawlty: Dragonfly! There isn't a horse called Nit... YOU'RE the Nitwit!
Manuel: What is Witnit?
Basil Fawlty: It doesn't matter. Look, it doesn't matter. Oh, I can spend the rest of my life having this conversation. Now, please, please, try to understand before one of us dies.
Manuel: I try.
Basil Fawlty: You're going to forget everything you know about Nitwit.
Manuel: No, no. Dragonfly.
Basil Fawlty: Dragonfly!
Manuel: I know nothing.
