Good afternoon. I am Margaret Thatcher. I first came to the public attention as a provider of stunt bras to the Carry On movies. You remember when Barbara Windsor’s bra flew off in Carry On Camping? That was one of my bras. Aerodynamic for flight, and padded cups for a soft landing. The right bra for the job. That was my motto.
For decades, that bra was the most famous bra in the world. He couldn’t go to a party without someone putting him on and catapulting him across the room. He loved it. These days he just lies across a laptop keyboard, watching an animated gif of Kenneth William’s shocked face, one cup damp with whiskey, the other cup half full of cigarette ash.
But enough about the early days. I’ve done other stuff, too. For example, umm, did you know that I was in Regular Features in the 70s? It was me and Terry Wogan. I’d sing a bit of a popular tune, and Terry would replace the lyrics with vulgar alternatives. I’ll never forget, one day I sang “put them together and what have you got? Bibbedy bobbedy boo” and quick as a flash, Terry sang “open your arsehole and what have you got? Knickers all spattered with poo”. Such a brilliant man. Such a talent. A brilliant man talent. So sadly missed. Tell you what! Let’s play it now! For old time’s sake!
I’ll think of one of the top of my head. Linger by the Cranberries. You got me wrapped around your finger… come on, Margaret…
FUCKING PIECE OF BALLS AND SHIT
No that wasn’t right. I know, I’ll do a song from the seventies, that’s more in keeping. That’s neat that’s that’s neat that’s neat I really like your Tiger Feet. Here we go…
I GOT BIG FARTS IN MY BUTTHOLE AND I WANNA SQUIRT OUT A FAT ONE TONIGHT
Fuck it, this isn’t working at all. Mind, this was Terry Wogan’s thing more than mine. What I used to do was cheep and chirp into the mic and say “is that a real bird or did I just make it up?” But when we started doing live shows, the audience was just all birds. We were as surprised as they were to find out I was a human being. It got really tense. Have you ever had 50 kittiwakes looking at you like you’re a racist arsehole? I was sweating out me arse, I can fucking tell you.
I’m getting sidetracked. I’m not here to chat shit – I’m here as a representative of the wider Regular Featureverse. I wasn’t the first member of Regular Features. To find that out, you have to go back much further in time. Before history began. Back to the 1920s…
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