The fact that Thatcher is dead! Look I did a poem last April:
As you will soon see - it's a crowning magnificence of literary genius...

Raping the corpse of Thatcher

I feel like I have been possessed
My the spirit of a Midlands miner
I take all my frustrations out
On Thatchers dry vagina.

I climb aboard her withered frame
That was once so full and busty
But now the Iron Lady's dead
She's become pretty rusty.

But still I squeeze my hard cock in
In one fast thrusting motion
For lubrication round her minge
I use embalming lotion.

But when I come, I scream and shout,
I'm pretty far from quiet.
The noise I make is just the same
That I made at the poll tax riot.

And I look down in calm relief,
She's made me loose my mess.
That sexy rigor mortis-bound
Decaying baroness.

That isn't all, her cunt's too wet
Just like a street in Venice
And so next time I want a fuck
I'll fuck her husband, Dennis.
(SigourneysBeaver took off and nuked the entire site from orbit on, Thu 10 Oct 2013, 7:24, 3 replies)

Mess...baroness.Excellent :-)

(Pookie Bear had some very shiny foez, Thu 10 Oct 2013, 7:35, closed)

"By"

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 10 Oct 2013, 8:31, closed)

This reminds me of that charming ditty by death metal combo Cannibal Corpse.
"Entrails Ripped From A Baroness's Cunt".
(McChinaman banned, Thu 10 Oct 2013, 10:02, closed)