I don’t know anyone planning to protest on funeral day. But the police are hyping up the threat to justify pre-emptive arrests and preventing the expression of free speech at the Trafalgar Square party on Saturday. So comrades……….LET’S BE AVING YA’
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Ian Bone 
It’s to scare away the ordinary punters who might otherwise have shown.
A demonisation of those who object to glorification of someone who callously froze pensioners in their own homes; who assaulted the NHS and Welfare; who talked about self help whilst marrying a (drunk and racist) millionaire; who launched an unnecessary war (fuck Galtieri whilst we’re on the subject); who protected and apologised for a scumbag blood thirsty tyrant (Pinochet); and who deliberately set out to crush the poor and needy.
Thank God the bitch is dead; even though it’s only in body.
Put your trust in your sword – and your sword in the police.
Ding-dong heading for number one!
Oh, the memories of the halcyon days of Joe Dolce and the Pistols.
Matthew Wright -The Enema Within!
Shirkers don’t know what Daybreak is anyway – so what’s the point there? A futile gesture, perhaps.
Burial at sea to Argyphile though safe from mindless grave dancers; but no, the lady wanted burning – so be it! Good bit of scrap metal there, Denis would have approved.
I’m sure someone must have prepared for this eventuality (to prevent it happening) but imagine if there was a big sound system in one of the buildings on the route of the funeral cortege, timed to blare out DING DONG! THE WITCH IS DEAD! as her coffin went past. Presumably (not being up to speed with current technical developments in this field) there are social media applications which could multiply replicate this effect – a thousand ringtones playing the same tune at once?
Where there was harmony, she brought discord. Where there was truth, she brought error. Where there was faith, she brought doubt. And where there was hope, she brought DESPAIR. http://www.facebook.com/protestatfuneralprocessionofthatcher
It has been a while since I read it, but it was one of those things that just kind of stuck with me, probably because I laughed a little too hard at it upon my first reading.
This is what Chuck Pahalinuk, author of fight club said,
“Years later, in London, a young man pulled me aside before a book event. He was a waiter at a five-star restaurant–one of only two five-star restaurants in the city–and he loved how I depicted waiters spoiling food. Long before they’d read my book, he and other servers had messed with the food they served celebrities.
When I asked him to name one celebrity, he shook his head. No, he couldn’t risk telling.
When I refused to sign his book, he waved me closer and whispered:
‘Margaret Thatcher has eaten my cum.’
He held up one hand, his fingers spread, and said:
‘At least five times. . .'”