New York Times reporter Brooks Barnes heard some ladies in their 50s -- who, he would like you to know, have had plastic surgery-- being terrible. We mean, obviously they are terrible. They are women. In their 50s. And they have had "work." Also, they are the first people in the history of the world to complain that Christmas shopping can be a bit of a chore, so they are clearly entitled pieces of shit who are hateful and should die. Anyhoo, after these dumb bitches stopped bitching about their bitch life of bitch shopping, they noted that Rupert Murdoch, that dashing fox, was "back on the market."
“You know, Rupert Murdoch is back on the market,” one woman said. “You should go for him.”
I almost choked on a cocktail peanut. Rupert Murdoch: sexiest man alive?
He is probably correct; since these "women" are objectively the worst, they obviously would be willing to put Rupert Murdoch's wizened member in their mouths, babymakers, and/or bottoms, for money, and definitely were not playing a rollicking game of "That's your boyfriend."
Yes, nothing says "successful, long term relationship" than one built on objectifying each other.
Viagra is always looking for new spokespersons.