Why I Want to Fuck Rupert Murdoch
Somewhere in and amongst all this unnecessary furore about phone hacking – I can’t remember whether it was after the 4th or 5th time that Rebekah Brooks was arrested. Sometime around then anyway, it came out that Rupert Murdoch, as part of the health and fitness regime that keeps him looking so manly and gorgeous at an age just short of the age Noah was when he died. As part of that fitness regime, when intruding into the grief of ordinary people and interfering with murder investigations allows, Rebekah Wade and Rupert Murdoch go swimming together.
And you know, when I read that, I got really jealous, I mean. Obviously there must be some of the Mephistophelean aspects of Rebekah’s job that are quite difficult to stomach, but getting the opportunity to go swimming with the manly presence of Rupert, that must be a real perk. I mean that must just be an authentic pleasure for Rebekah. Bathing with a three hundred year old magnate, the opportunity minute to minute of bare flesh brushing up against decaying bare flesh. Nobody said that they go skinny dipping. But I’d like to think that they do, in fact, in my head right now, they are doing. I’m pitching a little trouser semi at the very thought. One of the less-touted advantages of reaching a certain age like Rupert is that you reach a point where your balls are less wrinkled than your face. And bathing in the same water as the naked eminence Oz himself, that must be like bathing in ass’s milk for Rebekah a rejuvenating experience almost as uplifting physically and spiritually as moving in the same social circles as Jeremy Clarkson.
Another great American (like Rupert of course) famously said that every woman loves a fascist. And you have to admit that there’s something pretty fucking arousing about the way Rupert has ruthlessly thrusts his right wing policies out of his many organs, both broadsheet and tabloid, over nearly fifty years. Where would England really be without him? Without him, we would really not know that Freddie Star had eaten someone’s hamster. Without him, without his ownership of the Sun, which famously “won it.” We might have been in danger of not getting a Major government and instead been forced to live under the utter hell of a sympathetic and moderate Labour regime. Think of the hell of it. No Dangerous Dogs act, no back to basics, no black Wednesday. Without Rupert the glories of the glory of the Major years would have been just a dream.
Wendy Deng. That bitch. I mean I’d like to say that she IS only after him for his money, but it’s so obvious that she finds him nearly as studly and arousing as I do. The way that she defended him, like some semi-immortal out of Crouching Hooker Hidden Agenda. The way she leapt to his aid to protect him from that potentially lethal attack from a cowardly stand-up comedian armed with a dangerous foamy custard pie.
Don’t you just wish that you moved in those kind of circles. So that you could maybe flirt with old Rupes occasionally? Just up to the point where Wendy starts growling and tearing at your trouser legs. Can’t you imagine what a beautiful scene it was – the holy father Rupert, baptising his most recent child in the river Jordan in the presence of Cherie and Tony Blair. Can things get any purer and more holy and actually hornier than that? Maybe they all skinny-dipped in the Jordan together. Rupert and his relatively smooth scrotum, Rebekah and her carpet that matches the curtains, Tony of course can’t swim in water, he just walks on it.
Actually, they can get sexier than that. Because Rupert is very fucking sexy but what about James? James is sex on a stick. He has that kind flawless balloon animal witlessness that David Cameron tries to pull off. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if David Cameron did try to pull him off, he is so fucking sexy. Or was that Rebekah Wades “complimentary” horse. This story has so many “in”s and “out”s, it’s like lovezoo.com, sometimes it’s hard to keep up. But when the Murdoch’s are around, it’s never hard to keep it hard.
And when James M lies. OMFG. Who didn’t get wet between the legs when he started babble on about “not being aware of the quantum?” Even Louise Mensch was getting cressy and, although she doesn’t admit it in the list of work that she’s had done, she in fact does have a full set of balls and a cock (not counting the collection she keeps in the freezer). And if it weren't for the Murdoch's we wouldn't really know about the delightful Ms Mensch would we? Wouldn't that be a total shame.
But back to James (or Jimmy Bob, that’s what I’d call him if I was screaming out his name and begging him to fuck me). Isn’t his attempt at a “George W. Bush” defence so fucking horny. You can see him crafting it so carefully “I’m just a rich man’s son, randomly bad-tempered and incompetent. I am way too thick and clueless to have actually masterminded a systematic patter nof law breaking for financial gain over decades.” And who are we to suggest that he’s lying? And isn’t that kind of warrantless, entitled, feral sadism so fucking hot?
And this of course is a real worry to the Murdoch’s father and son, because if they do end up jail, and I have to say, it isn’t looking good. If they do end up jail. How are they going to keep all the other inmates off, what with them being so fucking gorgeous? I suppose that old Rupes could always go nuclear and threaten to take the page three girls out of the Sun, and he can probably sell videos of him and Wendy “living a full married life” for a few smokes and favours from the screws. I wonder if the News of the World guys told him they were taking those pictures? Or is that their own line of insurance? That’s the only language these kind of thugs understand, and Rupert speaks it fluently. But it’s James I feel for. He’s not a slugger. He’s never learned to live out on the street. His blood gets over-oxygenated whenever he descends from his penthouse offices. In a low-rise open prison, he could become dangerously inflammable.
For him, it might be a blessing if he’s torn apart by an angry mob before it ever gets to that.
And Rebekah? Rebekah will be fine. These kind of women are after all, the kind of low-rent half-wits she’s been herding in whatever direction she and Rupert wanted them to roam for years and years. Before you know it, she’ll be forcing them to dress as characters from Harry Potter and do her bidding. If this woman can get an angry mob of “caring” mothers to attack a paediatricians office, and stand on a platform with the parents of murdered children, whilst at the same time hacking the phones of the parents of murdered children, she can probably handle a few years of soft time for perversion of the course of justice. And she probably won’t have to defend herself from the bull dykes. Sometimes even being the most loathesome human being that has ever existed has an up-side.
In summary. I just want to say. Won’t the world really be a worse place if these people go to jail? If these people are torn apart by angry mobs, won’t we ultimately regret it. Is tampering with at least one murder investigation, then covering it up and in the process completely corrupting the country’s biggest police force such a crime? In the big scheme of things? Aren’t people making just a bit too much fuss just because the press officer at number 10 turned out to be the head of a syndicate of organised criminals? Is that really so bad? Especially when the guys running the show are so fucking hot. I mean that dribbling old fogey performance that Rupes gave to the select committee, you’re not telling me even old Tom Watson doesn’t smack off to that at nights.
When you think of all the good that Rupert has done for this country, when you realise how little James has done with his life. Just because a few little girls and maybe one private detective didn’t get their murders avenged as they should. Is that really so bad? It is? OK, right.