Rupert Murdoch in Hyde Park, with his personal trainer.
From the Daily Filth-O-Graph
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The chronicles of Ruin, continued. Call me Ishmael said....intelligence is knowing what to do when you don't know what to do. Anonymous said... When I don't know what to do,I come here. 10 September 2009 22:59
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6 comments:
Rupe looks close to death and the personal trainer appears have been around the block one too many times.
I hope Stanislav is enjoying this, where ever he may be.
All said in 3 words.
Dead man jogging.
Nurse, the electrodes!
I dread to think what she might be training him to do.
Yes, the mind boggles; he's eighty, maybe she's training him to flee from Beelzebub's red hot pokers, when, shortly, we hope, he is eternally confined in the Underworld.
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