Rupert Murdoch dating anyone who brings him soup

THE man who holds Britain’s balls in the claw of his withered hand is open to marriage to anyone who provides soup, it has emerged. 

92-year-old Rupert Murdoch, who controls the democracies of the UK, the USA and Australia, is currently dating the mother of an oligarch’s ex-wife after she blew on his steaming bowl of minestrone.

The decaying monster said: “When I was a young man of 79, all I thought about was power. Today, in the maturity of my years, I much prefer soup.

“But somehow – nothing but laziness I’m sure, I remain as vigorous, vital and viciously prejudiced as I ever was – I prefer my soup to be fetched for me by a lady who’s very special.

“Now admittedly I thought the lady who had that place in Rupe’s big heart was a nice strawberry-blonde Christian girl, and now she appears to be a brunette with a Russian accent, but that’s immaterial compared to the quality of this crab bisque.

“It could even be a different girl, given that she’s no longer obsessed with holy war and Armageddon and instead is intransigent on Ukraine being Russian, but I’ll facilitate either as long as the mulligatawny keeps flowing.

“Nadgers to the world. It can burn for all I care. In the final analysis, I prefer soup.”

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Number of Scottish people in Edinburgh now down to three

THE number of genuine Scots resident in Edinburgh has hit a new August low of three, surveyors have confirmed. 

With the Fringe well underway, anyone native to the city has been left with no choice but to evacuate to avoid the flood of Oxbridge graduates and their arsehole relatives who pay to see their bollocks shows.

Bill McKay, who owns a flat in Tollcross, said: “I thought I could handle it. I boarded myself in, like Renton going cold turkey in Trainspotting. I lasted amost two weeks.

“But by then the constant barrage of feminist Shakespeare, angry Harry Potter monologues and political street magic seeped under the door, gentrifying everything. Even my Tennent’s Super. I leapt out of the window and didn’t stop running until Dalkeith.”

Susan Traherne said: “The pubs are rammed with wankers demanding a discount because they’ve doing a play about a pre-menstrual Stalin. Every room big enough for 12 people is staging a comedy show that abruptly becomes an examination of trauma two-thirds through.

“You can’t be Scottish and survive that. We’ve had no choice but to flee for the Highlands, leaving our flats behind us to be rented at three grand a week to five people who’ve been on Live at the Apollo.” 

Resident Ryan Whittaker said: “You have to hand it tae the English, coming up with something worse than all their f**king stag nights.”