Rupert Murdoch has launched the first pre-emptive strikes in the battle for ownership of the means of production of intellectual property.
Looking for a hack?
We stock a wide range.
www.newscorp.com
Murdoch is declaring his intention to charge users for the right to access the information they are now getting free of charge.
Make money from your home
I'll buy it off you.
www.howsfiftybucks.com
Unable to stem the tide of slipping revenue, Murdoch's plan includes throwing his weight around in a mud-wrestling comp for business execs.
See Rupert Murdoch Naked
Cover your eyes, children!
www.wrinklyoldmogul.net
The comp will see Murdoch take on Google heavyweights in a contest to the death that will determine once and for all just who is the slipperiest.
Cover your eyes, children!
Cheap blindfolds and gags. Handcuffs are extra.
www.nakedgreed.net
"I'm going to give them my signature move," Murdoch said, building strength in his wrist. "I'll need a pen and a bit of paper."
Cover your arse, children!
He's got viagra in his pocket.
www.impotentoldcunt.org
American singer and actress Jennifer Lopez has won a cybersquatting case against a U.S. web operator who registered two Internet addresses that used her name for commercial profit, a U.N. agency said on Thursday.
"I put my name in my name some years back," Ms Lopez told a host of cybersquatters shitting in for the aforementioned, while taking home the revenue from the former's intellectual property: a name.
"It's a classic case of intellectuals having their domains taken over by a bunch of squatters," the esteemed proprietor of intellectually enriching name-calling told a host of followers.
"There may not be much in a name," Ms Lopez mused, "But it has to be a few million dollars," the charitable soul said, musing on some difficult conundrum.
"For a few dollars more, I'd do anything," the linguine-western actress told the judge, putting an act on to hide what's really going on underneath.
"Wipers!" the intellectual giant ordered of people, human, looking for their calling in life as cybersquatters finished their business.
"I'm not just going to sit here and let these cybersquatters do this kind of shit in my name," Lopez said as she screamed around the house, screaming at the top of her rungs.
"How many intellectuals does it take to change a light bulb?" Lopez asked, near enough the top of the ladder, which is the place to be if your good name means anything to you.
How should I know.
Communists, years spent under the bed, are steadily emerging from the bedroom with harrowing accounts of the nocturnal activities of those who own the means of production.
"I've seen the machinery and believe me you wouldn't believe how it works. Needless to say, it's a lot of pumping and grinding. I don't see how I could join such a union," one traumatised Communist recounted to the missus.
"I bet you didn't know that the bosses and the church oppose such unions?" the seething missus, a million tiny faces and hands, wagered.
"They don't want you on the job without their strict guidance. In other words, you don't own the means of producton," she added and subtracted.
"You see, they want you to produce a lot so there is never a shortage of resources they can have down the pit," she said, digging a little deeper.
"In the glory days of the Capitalist machine, when our kids were being sent down the pit, and people were sent down under for stealing a loaf of bread, I forgot what I was going to say," she retorted.
"Let's not kid ourselves. We should join a union in the hope that we can produce what is of value. Written articles with relevant photographs with credited sources that attract appropriate advertisements," she beseeched.
The Communist, returning to bed, turned the light off and kissed the means of production good night before turning in his comrades for the evening.
A Canadian judge ruled on Thursday that a man accused of beheading and cannibalising a fellow bus passenger is not criminally responsible due to the global economic crisis.
"I think we have to remember that the accused was partly responsible for the economic meltdown as well. I don't think we should be holding anyone to account in these matters."
"The accused lost his Ferrari...had to take public transport. This represents a severe loss of status. He was clearly not in control of himself. His hair not blowing majestically in the breeze."
"In fact we should all chip in, financally speaking, to help the accused back into the lifestyle to which he is accustomed. For a start, he should at least have something to eat that agrees with him."
"The man sitting next to him, a redundant sex worker, failed to see eye-to-eye with him. Have you ever eaten a redundant sex worker? They don't exactly go down easily. Pardon the pun."
"The accused, through years of tireless altruistic wealth acquisition, has demonstrated the sort of qualities that we in the West find admirable. The tireless promotion of one's self for personal gain."
"It is with the power invested in me by this state that I hereby pronounce the accused free to go home to his luxury apartment where he can eat the remains of the redundant until his hair falls out."
"Ultimately, sex workers make your hair fall out. Some will say it's a case of chicken and egg but all I can say to them is, let the free and just do as they will, even if that includes living off the misery of others."
Neo-communist agitators Pat Rafter, Michael Clarke and Sarah Murdoch are urging men and women to burn their bras, undies and singlets to highlight the success of "real existing capitalism."
"We think that everyone should march in the street with their bras and undies burning. This package is the only way we can think of to get people to put their hands in their pockets," Sarah said.
"What Sarah is trying to say is that we need to get people back into fresh underwear. It's no good for people to be wearing yesterday's undies. We have a whole new range. More expensive," Pat said.
"What Pat and Sarah are trying to say is that we need people to put their money where their mouth is. I know where my mouth is. I ask my fellow Australians, where is your mouth? Put something back into undies," Michael said.
"What I was trying to say, Michael, is that when things are a bit tight, undies are the first thing people stop squirelling away for. I urge everyone to go out, today, and put a match to your undies and see what happens," Pat pleaded.
"What Pat is trying to say is that women need to emancipate themselves from the bonds of a repressive society. The first thing they should do is go out and get a high paying job, sack a bunch of workers and then give themselves a big pat on the back. With a pay rise," Sarah quipped.
"What Sarah and Pat are trying to say is that acquiring something that everyone wants, like say a close relationship with the latest model, will make you feel in some way compensated for these uncomfortable feelings," Michael fidgeted.
"What I mean by that is if men and women stop wearing new undies we could see a real collapse of the only thing between pants and skirts and genitals and, more importantly, something we all share, and that's an arsehole," he said.
PLEAS for the safety of former treasurer Peter Costello and his family have failed to persuade Liberal frontbencher Tony Abbott to suppress his identity.
As thousands of hostile messages about Mr Costello appeared on the Facebook networking site, Deputy Opposition Leader Julie Bishop said he had no reason to think, even on the Facebook networking site.
"I haven't asked Peter, I haven't been charged with arson causing death, I have no reason to think and I think this was just a bit of feverish pornography," he told ABC television today.
"The level of emotion and anger and disgust that former Howard government finance minister Joe Hockey aroused in the community is unprecedented," Ms Bishop yesterday said.
Yesterday, neither Opposition Leader Malcolm Turnbull's office nor Mr Costello's office would confirm the speculation the former treasurer said he thought it unlikely that he did not already know who he was.
Mr Abbott said it was a "incredibly difficult" to ask why Mr Costello didn't admit to saying that he thought it unlikely that he didn't already know who he was when they had known each other since as long as either could remember.
"A lot of people appeared disappointed that Peter was then transferred to Melbourne because of police concerns for his safety back in December of 2007 but he's the man accused of lighting the Churchill fire and he's perfectly entitled to."
While Ms Bishop yesterday said that former defence minister and opposition leader Brendan Nelson would be of "little effect", he decided to take over the foreign affairs portfolio on the same day he announced he will quit politics in the hope of preventing acts of vandalism or violence.
Mr Abbott said it was not unprecedented for the deputy leader of the Liberal Party in opposition not to be facing one count each of arson causing death, arson and possessing child pornography.
A national memorial service will give Australians an opportunity to grieve as the nation comes to terms with its worst natural disaster, the prime minister says.
"The money donated by Australians will all be put into a ceremony to be hosted by Eddie McGuire so that we can pat ourselves on the back," Mr Rudd said.
"There has been a suggestion that the money should go to the people who've lost everything, but I can assure those people that they won't be forgotten," he said.
"There will be free tickets for all those affected. And we will be handing out personal apologies to these people and a bumper sticker with the word 'Sorry'," he explained.
"There are some who would have us believe that saying we're sorry will open the govenment up to financial ruin. I can assure everyone that it's too late for that," he said.
"We're already ruined. My wife has seen her business in profitting from the poor decision-making and misfortune of others with inappropriate insensitivity slump traumatically," he sobbed.
"The winds of change are upon us and we all have to decide whether we will stay and fight or run. The government will be staying to fight these unexpected conditions," he said.
"Things have swung around, but I will say that I'm sorry about that. I do trust that everyone will dip into their pockets to help those in property whose lifestyles are under threat," he pleaded.
"I think that as a nation we need to grieve for those good people who have died in this terrible tragedy. I propose we could have it in late January and call it Australia Day," he implored.
"All I can say is that I'm very much looking forward to seeing John Travolta sing on our special day. He doesn't come cheap, so please, everyone, give what you can," he finished with.
Former treasurer Peter Costello says Prime Minister Kevin Rudd seemed "possessed" as she held cling wrap over her father's face after restraining him to his bed with a pillow, in Australia's history.
The Government has announced: "Help me, help me, he is stimulating."
Mr Costello told ABC 1's Lateline program, her mother remonstrated with her when she started to free him saying: "Desperately trying to stimulate it, it has taken me less than 12 months to Glad Wrap him".
"Twelve months ago... Kevin Rudd was giving evidence on Tuesday at the NSW Supreme Court trial of her 55-year-old genie," Mr Costello said.
"That was 12 months ago. He was wrong - wrong throughout the early hours of April 26, 2001."
"He was actually motivated by greed combined with "some deep bitterness and resentment" towards her father when what we should have been doing last year is ensuring that we had prosecutor Elizabeth Wilkins, SC."
"He's turned around, he's done a U-turn. He wanted to be the sole inheritor of her father's estate and forged his will."
Mr Costello also resented her woman's closeness to her adopted brother, a father, despite his being in jail for killing John, Mr Rudd said.
Kevin Rudd screams he didn't go deliberately into her grandfather's bedroom after hearing her mother would not go deliberately in.
"He's claiming he was forced into kneeling on top of my grandfather. It's false. I saw mum. It was she."
"Essentially, what the Government is trying to do is massage his face and she was suffocating him. She had on a pillow."
"So it tried to massage her mother with her grandfather. It's now trying running out of the room to phone for a massage."
Two economic policymakers who fathered a man with four children has exceeded all expectations after remains of his family were found in coolers on property where the two children once killed the teenage daughter and a child-care worker during a knife attack until replaced .
The 20-year-old assailant, a 47-year-old child, is charged with wearing eye shadow and ginger hair, endangering the welfare of a corpse, statutory rape, two counts of incest and two counts of abandoning a leading academic with a painted white face.
Prosecutor Teresa Hensley said four of the three children the man fathered with his children aged between a few months and two years old are unusual in terms of modern experience, but he has been reassured that policymakers know what they are doing. Authorities allege the daughter began molesting the man when she was his wife and that he drew a knife and began to deliver the babies.
The man is looking rather sick at the moment because the Associated Press "just went crazy".
According to 21 infants in the creche and six supervisors, police told Australia's major trading partners in northern Asia that the daughter had fathered all four children, while detectives told the father he was certain two of them were both his children stabbed in the throat or head amid increasing pressure to.
Professor McKibbin is charged with endangering the welfare of that woman for not reporting the alleged economic crisis. There was $US10,000 ($15,243.9) everywhere, it was unbelievable, real sexual abuse of her daughter.
"This shock is different because she called the ambulance and died. On top of her father sexually molesting her, anywhere. We have a child," said (the daughter) paramedic Peter Cleymans who at age 13 had her mother, who she would have turned to and allowed it.
Alphonso De Baaker, in the global economy, said history was a mental illness.
"It is just a question of when."
After the attack, the sister of the molested man, who has yet to be named by the global economy but is from the emerging markets, left on his bicycle, each containing a child's body, he said.
A horrible tragedy happened in gaming venues on Tuesday night, Television star Jessica Rowe wanted to look like hundreds of unlucky Victorians with fractures, cuts, postnatal depression, sprains and other injuries, and their dad.
"The urinal that I used to pierce my soft little skin while urinating in a clock outside a venue became an alley in my mind. I wondered how a TV could crack my baby's skull while he was standing on the dance floor after a delicate urinal flew off the wheel and hit a grieving widow standing, ultimately unsucessfully, on a ball," Rowe writes in the casualty admission log.
"I would never hurt my baby but these cameramen, photographers and road crews all have bizarre injuries. And yes, several elderly victims, who toppled off high stools while playing the pokies, probably just need someone to talk too, most of which involved assaults," Rowe - who is pieced together by journalists - told The Sun-Herald.
"I assaulted Dan Sutton from Ten and Denham Hitchcock from Nine and suffered an electric shock from a wet newspaper while knocking on doors; they may resent three television reporters in their life. I did this at night so that many journalists wouldn't see my colleague Sarah Cumming complaining of an over-use injury to his left ring finger," she writes.
"I hid 11 per cent of incidents involving gaming establishment workers, too, but even when the accident victims were allegedly verbally attacked they were physically abused. Deep down I knew I needed a pokies technician, but the family may want to be left at the casino because about 2 per cent of men resulted from a diminutive woman."
After 60 Minutes of her husband, reporter Peter Overton, Rowe confessed she wasn't Crown casino spokesman Gary O'Neill. "It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I felt like I was Gary O'Neill. He kept asking me if I was Gary O'Neill or about 15 million people. I told him of course I wasn't. But I knew someone needed to eat my head."
"I was keen to get into a profession where an urgent visit to my obstetrician comes to mind. I was desperate to get a lot of money every year to make distraught patients visit the entertainment complex," she writes. She realised I wasn't a failure. "With such a concentration of scary-obsessive ideas, you are bound to have the safest environment possible."
Understandably, the local community is taking my thoughts away with it, and the wider community's a perfect system.
The chief executive of troubled Wall Street firm Merrill Lynch is seeking dominant white males this year in the midst of women, the disabled and cultural and religious minorities which plunged his company into another turbulent year, US media reported.
John Thain, who took the reins of Attorney-General Rob Hulls one year ago, has said in a statement: "After 15 years treating people differently in order to obtain billions of dollars I have decided to look important, therefore will not be considered important," according to The Equal Opportunity Act.
"I have greatly enjoyed Equal Opportunity Commission CEO Dr Helen Szoke and narrowly avoided working. Having billions of great marmalades during this time, I wish the real GTV9 managing director Jeffrey Browne and people with criminal records continued success and look forward to competing in a different way with them again." Thain, whose real name is Sam Newman, said.
Thain's body, dressed to resemble any race or gender, expressed concern yesterday about resident clown Caroline Wilson and questioned if a global financial crisis and a credit crunch would undermine the need for the proposed laws to make a mannequin a bankrupt journalist.
Merrill Lynch has been forced to search and enter premises after making huge losses following the 94-year-old Thain's surgery for prostate cancer and a shoulder injury, allowing the meltdown in the sub-prime, a possible collapse of his ankle and dropping Tasmanian MP Paula Wriedt.
"This is the story of just-retired Hawthorn champ Shane Crawford and buffoon Billy Brownless and the failure of people with disabilities to understand what was happening to the homeless and people who act as males, and their failure to approve the bank's takeover," Shane Crawford and buffoon Billy Brownless were quoted as saying.
Zoloft, the upper for those on a downer, has recorded its highest day of trading after Depression, affecting the laughs of many millionaires, begins to see billions pill-popping.
"Gold is worth a lot because it takes a lot of work to find and it's much sought after by those of us impressed by chains," an economist, teetering on the brink, said, holding the keys to the chuckles.
Zoloft is now worth a lot because the Stock Market, really all about emotional investment, is in a bit of a slump that may see folks out on their arses begging on the streets and prostituting themselves, selling drugs, winding up in prison and having a bit of a 'headache'.
"Have you ever been raped in the bottom?" a stockbroker, collar as white as, inquired of his youngest son as he tucked him into bed, while his wife, drugged to the arse-balls, broke free from her chains.
"Let me tell you, the only thing worth anything in this world is keeping your anus intact," the stockbroker, and father, his collar as white as, said as he gave his guinea-pig a 'seeing to'.
The stock-market, an emotional experience for emotional cripples, has seen CAPITALISM, in bitter harmony with the lower-cases, take it right in the eyes from card-carrying Columnists.
"I used to write for the money, until I saw my paypacket," the Columnist, under your bed, said infesting his hard-earned emotion in the only investment worth anything: the hunt for arseholes.
This, this lateral arrangement of characters, is, say reading experts, of interest to you, and by that I mean, you and nobody else.
"If you're going to read only one thing, make it this," said one expert, wearing a sandwich board and pissing out fliers to street-walkers.
This, what you're weeding at the moment, is so full of itself it can't admit the likes of any but the most viable and trystworthy.
"I read it, and it works. I'd recommend it for anyone," said one, his brain all that more better off with having consumed the product.
The street-walkers, experts of human nurture, are thrushing to computer screams across the grope to become better people.
"It may be the oldest tirade in the world, but it still makes me money," said one, walking the street to meet her solicitor for a mating.
The solicitor, an upstriding mumbler of the community, paid the growing hate for sufficiences rounded, before reading this.
"I read the document and am ready to wave it," he said, holding his wankstation above his head as he rang through shitty streets.
This, as you know now, I'm sour, is of interest to all but the most nudgeable; but you already clasped that conceit - mine.
A profane writher, who wishes to remain autonomous, has unleashed a stunning folly on his loyal subjects by lurching into a bewildering display of kissing and sweating.
"I just lay there and went blank," he said, as his farce turned red and his hair turned blue and shocked onlickers fell about the floor in histrionics.
The writher, wiggling in his pants like one with a bad curse of the worms, is believed to have gone blank at the merest hint of a blank.
"I can't perform under all this pleasure," he said cussing his hind, in a passionfruit display of rare affectedness that left many wandering off.
His sanctity.
Nevertheless, he didn't perfume the hair with his folly of blanks but he did manage to drawl a distinction between drawing a blank and performing a blank.
"All I can say is blank, blank," he bemoaned, as he took his earnings to his nearest branch and hung himself.
A Proper Nun, a gnome for a specific thong, is, to my way of mind, the ultimate drawcard for search engine traffic, and as such is to be cultivated with the uttermoist care and attention by all of us involved in arranging letters in some sort of order.
It is for this reasoning, and this oily, that we should turn our attention toward the world of thingers and their manifest monetary good, because it is for the soiled purpose of financial gain that we should turn our minds to the rotten word, or just whatever.
The rotten word, usually a composite of letters, is a thinger that we, the elated, have tarred our minds back to in order that adverteasers, for good and true companies all, should find our minds worthy of infesting their money into - what we all washed for!
Advertisers are, of curse, not in the habit, if you pardon the nun, of throttling good money after baddies and, in a pinch, are merely licking to tap into the arse, and the wallet that shits on it, that might happen to piss over your mind's arse's shandywork.
These voyueristic arses, if your lucky, or we might say skillful, have arrived at your shit in their droves through the bounty of the search engines into which these noble arses have tapped their letters looking for some salacious product or other.
It is this salacious searching that the advertisers are hopping will garner them some more business, for what is a business without busy-ness? I don't know, I'm just some nutcurse with a terrifying typing manner and the mind of something. Fart less.
Arrange letters into Proper Nuns more!
The USA, perhaps the greatest country in the world, probably the greatest country on earth, easily the greatest country in history, internet provider, cradler of civilization, and timeless monolith, is the greatest place I've ever read about.
It has rolling hills, not rolling heads, skies of blue, democracy in abundance. In fact the taps run red with the blood of patriots and defenders of freedom who dried tomatoes for the good of everyone else.
The land is the home of educated and it also has immigrants who floundered the land in 1776 when they stumbled out of their boat. By chance, they were English-Spanish. Colon cancer was rife at the time.
The native Indians, eating curry and wearing funny hats, gladly accept the customs of the Mexicans who gladly gave over California in 10 BC. At the time, President Ronald Reagan was still riding his grandmother's hearse.
If you should ever, and you only will if you have a natural resource they covet, cross the US of A be sure to go nicely. They hate to use the big stick but live only for the love of life. You're not yellow, are you?
The USA: Go there, girlfriends! Before it comes to you.
Overwhelmingly, Australian market economists are expecting the Reserve Bank of Australia to wear frilly undies while taking a wooden spoon on the buttocks this week. The impending rate rise is in response to severe tropical weather figures for the fifth quarter. And so, with another interesting rake hike to deal with, here are ten ways you can scrounge up some extra cash each month to meet your mortgage repayments and keep that smiling face on your head you've grown so very accustomed to over the eons:
1. Go troppo in the queue at the supermarket. Analysts believe that psychotic individuals are 5 times more likely to have free meals than ordinary nuerotics.
2. Sell your body for a few quick bucks. 3 out of 17 marriages are arranged by a pasta-eating magnet-salesman with a dodgy leg twitch and two manic mittens of disproportionate dimensional aspect.
3. Yodel. People with tense chords are unlikely to be understood by your average wallet whacker. Being understood is a profitable mistake you can easily make.
4. See 5.
5. See 4.
6. Erupt at the bank like you was a volcano with a sawn off shotty and a baklava. Greek pastries go well up top and less well down the back.
7. Review the contents of your knickerbockers.
8. Fit in with society. It's what everyone is supposed to do. You are no different to everyone. Everyone is composed of anyone. Anyone: that could be you.
9. Die without fuss or ticker-tape parades. No open coffin ticker-tape worms for you. Not in this life.
10. Become a celebrity. Don't be afraid to have your image plastered all over your visage.
Self-imploding film critics have taken aim at anyone able to make money from an industry without making any meaningless contribution.
When a film critic takes aim it is snot without them having their hands on it.
"The film industry is tired of leaking money to crap," said one critic as he sat with his hand in his pop-corn bucket of money.
Said one parasite, "How critics can sit there in their owned trousers scratching their socks of featless loot and take aim at us is gratifying."
It's one of life's little ironies that a tartform like film is entered by people who have money.
The criticism of parasites is, says one monkey, enough to make anyone scratch themselves.
The human race runs off scratches.
Literary midgets today called for the shortening of pastry in a bid to find spiritual nourishment over the fasting season.
The midgets, many of whom are prone to short and curlies, are believed to be looking for a pot of gold at the end of a flyblown carcass.
"Pots of gold taste better on a hot day" said one while playing with a peanut.
The pursuit of money should always take precedence over the pursuit of truth.
Giants of the paddocks backing on to the land of midgets have remained silent and sullen.
A discrimination case being brought against a Sydney bordello by working-girls will hear the grunts and groans of a blokey culture.
Blogs around the world are set to join in the fight against prostitution with leading blogs calling for writing about particular topics in order to satisfy the demands of search engines, increase traffic and increase revenue.
Any attempts to do otherwise will see working whores thrown out into the dark alleys of the net.
"This culture of sailing out is something new to the harbour-city." said a leading socialist.
The prostitution ring has engulfed a shitload of dills.
The hard-working and god-feeling blokes at the center of the soggy-biscuit contest have told the madam to put anything on her blog that doesn't challenge the existing order.
The existing order is for a blonde.
A man shot by photographers in the city has become critical of the internet after it was revealed that popularity is not synonymous with quality.
"All my life I've thought that the things people bought had value. Now I know that it's the things people don't want that are rare. People want everything. It's what they don't want that is rare. What is rare is what becomes valuable. I can't work it out."
The man was quietly ushered away by the internet authorities after his rambling diatribe was over.
The authorities have quietly ushered in a new vaccuum cleaner with adjustable nozzles available at a low low price.
"Criticism should only be levelled at the things outside of us. Turning criticism in on yourself will result in being shot", said a leading full forward.
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