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Margaret Thatcher

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The Lady's for returning
Gotcha.
Britain before Thatcher.
   
 
There is no such thing as Thatcher
 

 
 

— - Society

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Margaret Thatcher was an infamous troll and oldfag who was born at least 100 years ago. Her many victims included the poor, coal miners, school children, the Soviet Empire, the entire populace of Argentina and various other wastes of space. While many claim she did this because she is an evil libertarian-nazi, it is now known that she did it for the lulz also to keep her senile fucked up Republicunt matey boy Reagan happy - even though most Amerifags referred to her as Hatchet Face when she was on the news.

She was also Jack the Ripper, God, and a pretty cool guy.

The Life and Times of Margaret Thatcher[edit]

Earliest known photograph of Margaret Thatcher.
"Milk-snatcher"? Far from it!

Her favorite band was Näshulta Thugs

Mrs Thatcher with a close friend. 'Owsabout that, then?
The Torydactyl, Maggie's final form. Note the blood of Welsh miners dripping from her fangs.

Famous also for pwning the poor within the UK, Thatcher used the British police, renamed the SS to beat the fuck out of the Welsh & illiterate leftards of northern England who had all been tricked into turning commie by Che Guevara T-shirts and international fag superstars The Smiths. As a result of her superhuman efforts, Thatcher was Knighted in 1984 as Iron Lady for life by the queen, and on the same day invaded and eventually pwned Argentina. She is also admired by the English people for kicking the Irish around, which will always boost one's approval ratings.

Close friends with Ronald Reagan, Jimmy Savile and Jim Davidson, Mrs Thatcher is commonly held to be the greatest leader since Hitler, and a thoroughly good chap.

Before becoming the scourge of commies worldwide, Mrs Thatcher was a noted research scientist, inventing the method by which ice cream is preserved, and discovering a substance now known as Thatcherite, lethal to communists and liberals much like AIDS is to homosexuals.

Thatcher was also known as The Milk Snatcher after she stole all the milk and cookies from the school children.

  • She also "SOLD THE FAMILY SILVER" - for fuck all, to all her Tory fanbois in the city.
  • Telecom (British Telco) sold at like £2 a share, sold later that day for like £6 on the stock market
  • The Water Utilities (high bills & poor quality water)
  • Electric Companies (Price Hikes are still going on).
  • Despised feminists, despite the fact that as a woman, she would never have been given the opportunity to be elected prime minister without them.
  • Openly supported apartheid in South Africa and called Nelson Mandela a 'terrorist'.
  • The Gas Company (Price Hikes & the closing of the domestic gas leak service for being unprofitable)
  • School meals (resulting in a generation of unhealthy children)

She set up numerous QUANGO's (Quasi Autonimous Non-elected Gov. Org's)

How So?[edit]

How was Margaret Thatcher so successful? The answer is simple - because she had a fucking huge penis. Her husband, Dennis Thatcher, had a large mangina into which she repeatedly forced herself (actually, it's funny you should say that...) producing their two children, Mark and Carol. Unfortunately, years of thinking she was the Queen had given her hereditary diseases that infected both her children. Carol was dropped at birth and worked over with an ugly stick. Eventually she crawled back into her Dad's fanny* where she spent most of her youth. Mark turned gay, failed at trolling a handful of niggers in Africa and found himself permabanned from the 'Western territories'.

Like all great fascist dictators, however, she only had one testicle. Still, this was enough for the Argies, wot?


*In the State of England, USA, [of which Margaret Thatcher was governor] 'Fanny' means haddock pastie, NOT 'arse'.


   
 
She will go down in history as the woman who killed Santa Claus.
 

 
 

—Mr. Parry, MP

Just Die Already[edit]

Above: The day that Thatcher finally united Britain (in laughter)


Denis's 2003 funeral. Cry me a fucking river.

On the 7th of March 2008, Thatcher gave the down trodden nation of Great Britain hope when it was announce she been admitted to hospital with unknown complications. However it was soon short lived, as she was sent home a few hours later [1]. Later that year, her daughter revealed that Thatcher had dementia, which resulted in Thatcher thinking that her dead husband was still alive. [2] This means that the best way to torment her is to constantly state that her husband is dead. This lulzy process can be repeated regularly to identical effect, as a result of her crotchety old Alzheimer's brain forgetting things almost as soon as she hears them. Alzheimer's is, of course, God's invitation to rape the sufferer, given the impossibility of them ever providing coherent evidence, or simply remembering the lulz. Budding rapists would do well to remember that Thatcher's vagoo has dryness of over 9000, so lubricating is advised.

Her number one fan, the smarmy cunt

Around this time, people started planning her funeral just to scare the shit out of her. Tory fanbois insisted on giving her state funeral reported to cost the UK taxpayer £3,000,000 (or $6,000,000 lol, exchange rate). This marks the only occasion where people agreed with the Tories as while they wanted to give their glorious leader a fond farewell, the rest of the UK thought £3 million was a small price to make sure the cunt was actually dead. Well, not everyone. Some people believe the £3 million could be put to better use. "For £3 million, you could buy everybody in Scotland a shovel, and we'd dig a hole so deep we'd hand her over to Satan personally." Margaret Thatcher will be buried in a man made lake or at least she will be after all the people have finished pissing on her grave. It will be the first time the 21 gun salute will be aimed at the coffin.

There are some people in the UK who hope that she lives for fucking evar & evar, pushed round in a wheelchair while her capitalist pig fanbois all die and have her sitting there, miserable, in penance for her crimes against the people.

Goodnight Sweet Princess[edit]



   
 
When I realised that Margaret Thatcher was dead, I did a double fist pump and shouted, "Fucking brilliant!" Everyone around me was disgusted, and looking back, I suppose it was out of order.

Especially as I was the first paramedic at the scene.
 


 
 

—Anonymous Britfag on the death of the Iron Lady.


On the eighth of April 2013 Baroness Thatcher died, allegedly after a strike stroke, although some argue that this is just a lie put out by her Tory underlings looking to disguise the fact that somebody found and destroyed all her horcruxes.

Jubilant scenes as Thatcher's death is announced.


There was much rejoicing throughout the United Kingdom and ultimately nothing of value was lost, despite much bawwwing from the Daily Fail and other scumfuck right wing tabloids, to who treated Thatcher's death as a great tragedy on the scale of a second Diana, painting the evil bitch as some sort of great British hero.

Above: Mourning fans drown their sorrows by joining a dirge
Full performance YouTube Favicon.png here and original 1989 track YouTube Favicon.png here



Street Parties Held Across Britain To Celebrate Thatcher's Death About missing Pics
[Collapse GalleryExpand Gallery]



Thatcher was buried in a state funeral that took place on the 17th of April 2013 that cost the British taxpayer £10,000,000 (a bargain in any financial crisis!) and required the presence of 700 armed forces personnel, just in case any of the peasantry tried to spoil it for the rich cunts in attendance. Several brave anons claimed to be planning to try and disrupt the funeral, but in actual fact, the ceremony passed without incident and except for George Osborne bawwwing like a little bitch, nothing really noteworthy happened.

Thatcher and Savile: The truth[edit]

Story time with savile.jpg
Margaret Thatcher is part of the kiddie-sex scandal...
Jim'll Fix It!

It's no great secret that Mrs Thatch and beloved British national treasure, Jimmy Savile, were bezzie mates.

   
 
So many Great Britons have had a touch of eccentricity about them and Jimmy is truly a Great Briton. Miner, wrestler, dance hall manager, disc jockey, hospital porter, fundraiser, performer of good works, Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire and Knight of the Realm, Jimmy, I and millions more salute you. God bless and thank you.
 

 
 

British Prime Minister the Rt Hon Margaret Hilda Thatcher MP

One letter, more than any of several that are preserved in Downing Street's records, demonstrates the ease with which our man penetrated the inner circle of hellbitch Tory Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.

In 1981, blatantly grooming the old sow as one of his guardian "Friends in High Places", scheming Savz declared: "Dear Prime Minister, I waited a week before writing to thank you for my lunch invitation because I had such a superb time I didn't want to be too effusive.


   
 
My girl patients pretended to be madly jealous and wanted to know what you wore and what you ate. All the paralysed lads called me "Sir James" all week. They all love you. Me too!!
 

 
 

—(Signed) "Jimmy Savile OBE xxx."

Please to be noting: The reference to him being called "Sir James" is one of Jambo's characteristic heavy-handed hints. At the time of writing the above love-letter, he hadn't received the Knighthood for which he was so obviously fishing.

But hay, guess what? It fucking worked like a charm!

No comment.

The demented old hag – who was so mad that she actually invited the presenter to stay with her at Christmas (Christ, how bleak can you get?) – made not one, not two, no, not even three but -- count them! -- four separate fucking attempts to get arse-licking Savile his gong.

It's worth pointing out here that Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson had (for some mysterious reason) rejected calls to award sinister Savvo an MBE in 1970. However, savvy Jim'll was appointed OBE (the greater of the two Imperial decorations) the following year, under the incoming Conservative Prime Minister the Rt Hon Edward Heath. This was probably not a coincidence.

A confirmed bachelor and notable sailor, Mr Health was a close personal friend of Jimjam's and (if you believe Michael Shrimpton) he was also a fellow peed-oh: But even though Heath died years ago and therefore can't sue for libel, the closest the reputable media have got to "outing" Heath is by referring to him as "the subject of unsubstantiated rumours about sex with under-age boys".

Where was I? Oh, yeah - Thatcher.

She first tried to "Fix It" for Jim in 1986.

Private Secretary Nigel Wicks wrote to then-Cabinet Secretary Robert (now Lord) Armstrong: “She wonders how many more times his name is to be pushed aside, especially in view of all the great work he has done for Stoke Mandeville. She would therefore like you to consider further the inclusion of his name in this [year's Honours] list.”

In his very-carefully-worded-indeed reply, Lord Armstrong warned that the case for ennobling the old scumbag was “difficult”.

He wrote: “Mr Savile is a strange and complex man. He deserves high praise for the lead he offers in giving quiet background help to the sick. But he has made no attempt to deny the accounts in the press about his private life two or three years ago.”

Nice one, Maggie!

This was a reference to reports of Savile boasting that he had slept with numerous women while taking part in charity events (at the time, the Government was carrying out a public information campaign concerning HIV and Aids).

During Mrs T's subsequent attempts to get Saveloy knighted, her staff began to get a bit blunter with the stupid old cow: "Fears have been expressed that Mr Savile might not be able to refrain from exploiting a knighthood in a way which brought the honours system into disrepute.’

Another letter, from her private secretary, added: "We have again considered the name of Mr Jimmy Savile, whom you have of course considered on previous occasions. We have again concluded that he should not be recommended."

La Thatch finally succeeded in getting sex-fiend Savile up before the Queen during 1990, her final year as PM.

Follow the money[edit]

Among J'aimes's other nefarious ulterior motives in grooming the "Iron Lady" was moolah. Dosh. Flipping great wodges of cash.

A Prime Ministerial aide wrote in a Downing Street note to Thatch: "Jimmy Savile asked you about the length of time necessary for charitable covenants to qualify for tax relief. The chancellor has already decided to reduce the time period for seven years to four years in next finance bill. We cannot even hint at this to Jimmy Savile at present."

Fittingly for two of the most evil people ever to walk God's green earth, Thatcher and Savile became bumchums and met quite often. But money was never far from the mind of the wily Son of York.

A 1981 memo says. "Jimmy Savile saw the prime minister this morning with the architect's plans for Stoke Mandeville hospital. He suggested to her that as a goodwill gesture to all the members of the public who had contributed, the prime minister might be prepared to give a 'government grant'." The scrounging old tosspot.

In March 1981, Big Jim had lunch with the Tory she-devil, prompting anxious enquiries from the PM's personal secretary Caroline "I know where the bodies are buried" Stephens, who wrote: "Prime Minister: Can you kindly let me know if you made any promises to Jimmy Savile when he lunched with you yesterday, for instance: (i) Did you offer him any money for Stoke Mandeville? (ii) Did you tell him that you would appear on Jim'll Fix it?"

Ker-CHING! DHSS Secretary Norman Fowler pays out for Jim

Against the last question slaggy Maggie scrawled in her trademark dark felt pen simply: 'No' (she had already been on the old smoothy's show while leader of the opposition in 1976). But against the first question, she wrote: "Will tell you in detail. MT"

No 10 private secretary Mike Pattison noted: "The Prime Minister said was he thinking of a million pounds and Mr Savile replied that they would be grateful for any sum."

In a subsequent "smoking gun" memo on the same topic, Thatch wrote: "Promised to get govt contribution. MT."

As a result of J's backdoor establishment-felching she eventually fixed it for him AGAIN, with a behind-the-scenes deal in which HM Government ltd quite improperly spunked away £500,000 on building the wrinkly pelidofile's playground better known as Stoke Mandeville Hospital.


   
 
He controlled everything [at Stoke Mandeville]. He controlled me. Everybody was - I'm going to use the word frightened - of him.
 

 
 

—-- Janet Cope, Savile's former personal assistant

Remember her this way...
Thatcher's closest colleague speaks out about Jim'll

For some unexplained reason, the National Archive declared that sections of the files on the Thatcher/Savile love affair -- including the contents of a letter and a "telephone message" from Savile to Downing Street on 5 February 1980 -- will remain safely locked away for another 10 years, in other words till all the fuss has died down.

However ... certain lines had been deleted from the released prime ministerial paperwork, supposedly because they contained "personal details". But "murder will out" and after a lengthy appeal process under the Freedom of Information Act, the full truth (well, OK, part of it anyway) was eventually dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the darkness.

A line deleted from a crucial letter to Thatch from one of her aides (dated 6 March 1980, and initialled G.V.) was revealed to read: “Even more encouraging, though again confidential at this stage, Jimmy Savile tells me that the Prince of Wales has agreed to be Patron of the Appeal.”

Well, well, well.

Officials at the National Archive blamed the Cabinet Office, under the control of Cabinet Secretary Sir Jeremy Heywood, for the Royalty-related redactions.

Oh yeah, and it turns out that the file was "doctored" anyway just after Jimmy's secret life as a superhero was revealed in October 2012, in order to remove traces of serious Savile-dirt on Thatch.

Peter, Peg's other paedy playpal[edit]

Sir Peter Morrison even looked like a peed

In 2013 former Tory MP and ex-leader of the party in Wales, clapped-out old pisshead Rod Richards, announced that he had in fact seen evidence linking Thatcher's close aide (and former Tory party deputy chairman) Sir Peter Morrison and another high-ranking (dead) Tory to the infamous children's home scandal in North Wales, in which up to 650 children in 40 council-run homes were systematically fucked over every which way by adults across a 20-year period.

The Rt Hon William Hague MP and friend

Richards blabbed: "What I do know is that Morrison was a paedophile," adding for good measure that he received detailed briefings on the subject while serving as a junior Welsh Office Minister.

He said that the (Tory) MP for Yorkshire's Richmond constituency, the Rt Hon William Hague -- Welsh Secretary at the time of the inquiry and now (Feb 2014) David Cameron's Foreign Secretary -- ‘should have seen the evidence about Morrison’.

In 1996, Hague had instigated an inquiry into the Welsh scandal after care homes boss John Allen was convicted of you-know-what.

Rod Richards said he was frustrated that the £13 million, three-year inquiry (headed by Sir Ronald Waterhouse QC, who issued the inquiry's damning final report in 2000) had not linked Morrison to the abuse.

Hague, rather uncharacteristically, has apparently got nothing to say about Richards's claim. Nothing at all.

And the tentacles of the Savile affair reach into the Principality too, with Cardiff Royal Infirmary investigating claims of the old boy's diddling-doing on the premises, and some claims surfacing that sordid Sav found the sort of entertainment he preferred as a visitor to some of Wales's care homes.

The net draws tighter ...

Lusty Lord Leon[edit]

Lord Brittan, who died of cancer just in time to escape questioning about VIPaedophiles

Turns out Thatcher's Home Secretary -- the one who "lost" the VIPaedo dossier handed to him by Geoffrey Dickens -- was also a bit of a wrong 'un on the quiet. At some point in the mid-1980s, Leon Brittan (Lord Brittan of Spennithorne) was caught by a customs officer trying to re-enter Britain from the Netherlands carrying VHS tapes of pre-teens having sex.

Brittan was also named by a kid who got diddled at Elm Guest House as "Uncle Leon from the Big House", according to a detective on the Elm Lodge case.

There's other stuff circulating (for example a story about Brittan being caught hiding naked in Elm Lodge's garden during a police raid), but as yet no-one worth trusting has attempted to substantiate these claims.

Interestingly, it appears that if a second VHS tape was also seized showing a male cabinet minister dressed in a maid's outfit with a young boy on his lap, it wasn't Brittan caught on camera. So who was it?

Anyway, now that Brittan's carked it the UK media have all gone "BAWWW, now we'll never know what happened to the Dickens dossier!" Well, this is bollocks.

For a start, what on earth made them think Brittan would ever spill the beans in the first place? For a second, we know what happened to the Dickens dossier after Brittan received it back in 1983. He handed it straight to a Home Office civil servant called Sir Brian Cubbon, who has strong links to MI5 and MI6.

So, rather like the dossier on Cyril Smith, it looks like all the juicy, juicy evidence took a walk straight into the hands of the spooks instead of the police. Draw your own conclusions about why MIs 5 and 6 might have wanted to get their hands on it. And why Lord Brittan let it happen right under his nose.

Interestingly, Brittan was MP for the Yorkshire constituency of Richmond until he was made an EU Commissioner in 1989. He was succeeded in the Richmond seat by William Hague.

1 February 2015. Dominic Lawson, son of Brittan's colleague in Thatcher's cabinet Nigel Lawson, and an MI6 agent who has a track record of acting as a conduit for the spooks' propaganda, writes in The Sunday Times (proprietor: Rupert Murdoch) to pour scorn upon the case against Brittan, claiming it's all a lefty plot. Yup, a bunch of lefties went out as 10-year-old kids and deliberately got themselves nonced up by the stunningly-attractive Leon Brittan in a known nonce-brothel, in order that they would have something to discredit him with 30 years later. Sounds sensible enough. Why has no-one thought of this before?

See also[edit]

See also (again)[edit]

"Problema, Gran Bretaña?"

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