Earlier this week, Wendi Murdoch went from slouching, leg-crossing, miss-matched yawner to kung fu, kick ass, take charge master.

“Hands off my meal ticket, asshole!!!”

You’ve got to hand it to Wendi. Putting up with Rupert can’t be easy. I have a hard time just watching Murdoch on TV. His jowls, those wrinkles and that evil Donald Duck as Mr. Scrooge impersonation. Poor Wendi has to see him naked!

Of course, I use the word “poor” loosely. Given that Rupert resembles a Shar Pei, I guess it’s only fitting that Wendi love him. Like Wendi, those dogs come from China. But what exactly does Wendi love about Scrooge McDuck?

It’s easy to call Wendi a gold digger, a trollop, a tramp. I mean, she paid back the couple that first sponsored her visa to America by breaking up their marriage and then marrying the husband. Later, when she saw that there were other, bigger, wealthier fish in the sea, she put herself back on the market like a good Capitalist and traded up. She’s no dummy.

I remember reading in Vanity Fair a while back about Wendi getting Rupert to include her children with him as heirs to the News Corp fortune. This after Rupert agreed with his ex-wife that in lieu of an ugly and costly divorce, he just split the empire between the three children that they had together and the other child from a previous marriage. Rupert has been married three times. What a dog! I mean Shar Pei.

Wendi is a Chinese immigrant with a green card and a Birkin. Rupert is a naturalized American citizen from Australia with an empire and an attitude. Theirs was a love story that could only happen in America. One where merciless, immoral media moguls marry social-climbing home wreckers.

Still, it can’t be easy for Wendi. I imagine Rupert’s bald head tastes like a peanut. Can you imagine what the rest of him must taste like? Wendi just pretends she’s sucking on a log roll, one that will soon die and leave her with two young heirs, four bumbling adult step-children and one aging ex-wife.

Wendi, your limo is waiting.