Monthly Archives: April 2014

Mr. Fitzroy Sir

Friends and readers.

Aren’t we the people lucky. First of all we get the exciting prospect of voting in the Euro elections, you know that’s the elections no-one really gives a toss about only those that want to get elected so they can enjoy the amazing trough that is the European Parliament. No-one really knows except the anoraks who their MEP is or what they do in the interests of their constituents. But that little detail apart this parliament has a huge effect on our lives as most of our laws are now made in the European Parliament and we the mugs have no right of appeal should we disagree with these faceless individuals who wake up with an idea which the rest of us have to live with.

We are prisoners of a club which costs 50 million pounds a day membership. A club which produces nothing makes nothing does nothing except suck up money and spout out MEP’s and bureaucrats that cost us a fortune. Ask yourselves this. Do you sit up nights wondering what your MEP does, do you seek out every detail you can get your hands on and scrutinise it. Of course you don’t, most of us are too busy trying to get by in this, we are told, booming economy. All we are doing is creating well paid jobs for a few by voting in these meaningless elections.

There will be those that say, oh no it’s important, it’s crucial we vote, usually coming from those with a vested interest. Over the time of our EU membership powers have drifted from this country to Brussels, and shows no sign of reversal. Our own elected Government has to bow down to the mandarins of Brussels, and are just overpaid administrators servicing their masters from afar. Nobody outside the EU pay’s one bit of attention to their ramblings and it has little or no international muscle when it comes to hot spots in the world. they can do nothing about the problems caused by despot dictators who murder their own people in order to remain in power. They can do nothing about the booming arm trade which causes such misery, in fact they hold their own arm’s shows proudly showing off their latest killing machines which they sell to anybody who has the cash then deny they sell to enemy states.

The argument is we are better in than out, and the weapon used is fear, sound familiar. Our lords and masters tell us that our biggest market for our goods is Europe, but that was the case before we were members, so what’s new. We are told that membership of Europe is vital for our employment figures, but fail to tell us exactly where and in what sectors. Costas perhaps or Starbucks, possibly Marks and Spencers, maybe British Home Stores, goodness knows they sell the biggest crap on the market today. Farage and his UKIP mob tell us we should get the hell out and take back our country, whose country exactly is this pompous git talking about. Not the average citizens that’s for sure. At least Farage is a little different and hits the emotional buttons better than the major party candidates but he spouts the same shit in a different coat.

So what do we do. Do we vote and elect more punters so they can dip their noses in the trough, and disappear into the corridors of Brussels only to surface come election time. Or do we not bother and protest this ridiculous club by refusing to vote until we have a real say. It won’t happen, so we go on wondering why we bother. Yes UKIP might do well but it won’t make a blind bit of difference, as it won’t if you vote for any other of the Euro gravy train candidates. Our daily grind will continue and we will still continue to pay for fatcats in a far off place crammed with those looking for a well paid easy life. Be warned don’t answer your door in the next few weeks without looking out the window first. If it’s some punter with a bunch of leaflets in their hands or someone wearing a rosette, open the door and tell them there is nobody in, and if they come back at the same time next year they might get somebody in.

The Gospel According To—Pt 4

Friends and readers.

We start with a shock announcement. Following unconfirmed reports by a well informed source one of the infamous 5 our new friends in the North has had a thought. Yes friends unconfirmed as we say but if true this could turn the missing link theory on it’s head. We feel changing water into wine would be easier than one of the infamous 5 having any kind of thought.

Pilton Sucks always tries to bring you the stories that others would like to keep hidden and maybe even give you a giggle along the way. Since Sucks hit the streets a week or two ago now we have opened up the secret goings on that go on under our very noses. Our characters have brought Sucks to life and given us all a good old laugh, mainly due to the fact that they take themselves seriously. Pilton Sucks say’s what many are thinking but don’t have the forum to express themselves so we do it for you.

We have more readers than some of the daily newspapers and we are free and don’t have any political allegiance, we think they are all chancers so it’s a level playing field. Our local champ Cammy squint tie Day recently got caught reading Pilton Sucks whilst at the wheel of his car such is the popularity we enjoy. Our mate Cammy keeps up to date with local issues reading Pilton Sucks and is one of our most popular characters, giving us some unforgettable moments, from the non existant dog poo inititive to his photographic gems from a moving vehicle. Then we have one of our newer characters Vicki the hat Redpath who just seems to be in a world of her own and thinks Labour is some sort of manual work.

Our Vicki is a regular punter at the car boot sales where she searches for different kinds of hats to add to her growing collection. In fact we feel Vicki who has become another Sucks devotee could enter Britains got talent as a hat juggler, we would vote for her and she would probably get more votes doing that than as a politician. We have been given the gift of more chancers per head of the population than anywhere else in this City or beyond. Take our old mate and Neighbourhood manager Pete[formerly the perm]Strong. Pete’s a cracker, and has given us a bundle of laughs and we hope he continues to do so. But in losing his side kick who we are told he only seen twice, Henry 2 jobs Houdini Coyle, who was put there in the first place to keep an eye on our Pete but disappeared soon after joining the club at the local office, Pete will have to reshape the deck chairs on the Titanic until our returning mate Mandy settles in.

But our friendly democratic Neighbourhood Partnership has become a Masonic Lodge in it’s own right, where dodgy handshakes, nods and twitches get you in the door and a seat at the table where you can be told what monies are available and then told what it is going to be spent on, and then asked to vote for what has already been decided. It’s more popularly known as delegated authority. And as you leave you are handed the minutes of the next meeting. Oh and our mate Cammy chairs that as well, aren’t we fortunate.

And out of the blue we are told there are no potholes in Edinburgh, of course there aren’t any how stupid we all are, what appears to be potholes are merely mirages along with the terrible state of the pavements, which we imagine as well. But never fear our mate and head honcho Sue 3 jobs Bruce is on the case, well that’s when she has the time between jobs. Clearly we don’t have the talent that 3 jobs has, as many of our citizens can’t find one job, hey but who cares, our Sue does not. Along with the other directors of this and that within Edinburgh Shity Council, they cost us quite a few quid and for what, answers on the back of a stamp please.

The laughs get better. Just as the crooked banks tell us we have to pay the best money to get the best people, Edinburgh Shity Council use the same bullshit excuse. Living off the backs of the taxpayers is nearer the truth and it’s about time we were rid them. Local Government is not working but provides for some nice cushy well paid numbers for a few, and a breeding ground for workshy politicians who see it as a ladder to bigger pay days and a guilt edged dodge for avoiding the real world of work where they wouldn’t survive a day and that’s generous.

And we have the biggest chancer of them all right here on our doorstep, how lucky are we. Pilton Sucks favourite character voted for by our wide and growing readership as prat of the year 2013, pretty much chair of everything, and inspired Tram champion, the clatter of her designer heels strikes fear wherever they are heard, and is the first billion pound Politician, spending it that is, yes dear friends the ego has landed, Lesley Prada Hinds, who hopes to be dipping her nose in the trough come the next Scottish Parliamentary elections. If by some fluke she manages to con her way to being elected keep the bloody cheque books off her, give her some job like responsibility for land reclamation in Stornoway and keep her out of the way. Our Lesley is a flag waving Unionist so she will be voting no in the upcoming referendum, that’s one vote anyway.

That’s pretty much it for part 4 but we will return with part 5 at some stage, where we will be looking at amongst other things toilets that wipe your ass for you, very handy for the Hotbox three in fact mandatory. The continuing saga of Scotmid which prides itself on it’s unique pricing policy, and it’s latest inititive on introducing lanes for queuing.

Dodging The Column

Friends and readers.

the latest news from the Tram Bunker is that anyone caught dodging their fare will be fined a tenner, that should go a long way to paying off the astronomical cost of this bad joke. Maybe we should make those greedy bankers cough up their bonuses to pay towards the Tram debt, that should cover the cost of a couple of metres of track.

If you are an anorak type you can take a trip to the City Center and watch these lovely new vehicles going through their paces, and every so often you will hear the little bell dinging away just to let the punters know they are coming, as if we didn’t know. The ninth wonder of the world, the wonder being how it cost so much, but then you come to your senses and realise that our bestest mate, avid sucks reader and chair of everything Lesley Prada Hinds is in charge, and there dear friends is your answer.

Anything our bestest mate is involved in will always end up in a mess. But there is hope as we hear on the political grapevine that there will be an alternative Labour candidate put forward at the Scottish Parliamentary elections. We have heard a couple of names bandied about but as we have no confirmation of this then we will stay quiet until or if this startling news is confirmed. If this is the case then this will make the Edinburgh North and Leith Constituency fascinating indeed and something that may well be eagerly awaited. We already know that there is disquiet among ordinary Labour party members, some of whom have spoken to us, voicing their concern that after being a safe Labour seat for years, it is now a marginal, and if a credible alternative candidate comes forward then Labour could well lose the seat.

With the SNP running a close second, a strong alternative Labour candidate could do well and who knows what the result will be. Our information is that this will happen and a candidate will come forward shortly offering an alternative to an imposed candidate. Labour have taken this constituency for granted for years and with the selection of Prada they have done it again. We are aware that there is a grass roots of former Labour Party members who are alarmed at the prospect of Prada standing as the official Labour candidate, and have actively sought out a candidate who has the credentials to offer an alternative to Prada and this constituency descending into oblivion.

We have been told through a third person that an individual has been approached, and that this individual will seek advice as to the viability of standing. We have to tell our readers that a name was given to us but we could not confirm this so we must remain quiet on who it was, but we will say that if true it offers an exciting option and one we are sure will grab the imagination of the electorate. We are first once again with this breaking news, and once again Pilton Sucks has it’s finger on the pulse bringing the latest news to the eyes of our wide and growing readership. There was a letter sent out to former members of the constituency who left when Labour veered to the right and became just another establishment party. We understand that this letter went out to over 60 people who we are informed all agreed that an alternative candidate had to be sought out.

We have no knowledge of who these people are but our source tells us that the name given as a possible candidate was given overwhelming backing. We watch and wait with interest.

Minstrels Gallery

Friends and readers.

Defender of the public purse George Gideon Vatman Osborne jumped to the defence of the overstressed, conned and shit upon taxpayer to cap bonuses at the huge loss making and worst operator in the financial world, the Royal Bank of Scotland. Our knight in shining armour blocked RBS from paying a few leeches twice their salaries. As the rules currently stand Banks have to get approval from the majority of their shareholders for such bonuses. And since we the mug taxpayers own 81% of the shares, Vatman on our behalf blocked this outrageous move.

Don’t forget dear friends we the stood all over taxpayers own 25% of another financial donkey Lloyds, but our knight in shining armour has said he will not oppose Lloyds paying 200% bonuses, and on top of which the faceless mandarins at the Treasury will continue to contest the EU rules which brought in the bonus cap. They must be thinking about their own interests when they retire with their golden handshakes and diamond crusted pensions, not forgetting their little present from Buck house in the shape of a knighthood or some other little gift, on top of their payed seat on the board of one of the banks they are falling over themselves to protect.

Meanwhile RBS have announced they would pay chief executive Ross McEwan, no not the Sur Mer one the other one, a million pound salary this year. And just to add a little salt in the wounds this fatcat and his other useless bastards could also get up to three times that through a long term incentive scheme, thereby sidestepping the cap, that’s better than the Strictly Come Dancing quickstep. So it seems that Vatman Osborne’s stance on bonuses is a con to fool the mug punter taxpayer into believing that he is on the taxpayers side, bullshit.

While RBS continues to lose vast amounts of money these elite fatcats who couldn’t run a raffle will help themselves to lots of taxpayers dosh. While we are at it, there was no mention of this scandal on the News and little or nothing in the Newspapers. While the hard pressed taxpayer has to shell out to keep this black hole afloat, these seemingly untouchable tossers do what they like, and send out their pal Vatman to show he is in charge and spin a line to the mug punters. We get the standard excuse that if we don’t pay the top money then these lard arses will go elsewhere to bleed someone else, well cheerio then.

The rest of us have to scrape around doing the best we can, being told we can’t have this and we can’t have that but we have to pay for this and that, and if we don’t then the state will come down hard on us. And the biggest laugh is that Ed the ned Miliband who gritted his teeth and came to Scotland after someone told him how to get there, told the faithful that if by some fluke he was to be elected then he would bring social justice to Scotland, aye and pigs might fly. What a sorry bunch we are. we are jumped on, shit on, threatened by the state, work till we drop, conned as soon as we get up in the morning, while a few enjoy the fruits of others labours, and Miliband tells us that he will bring social justice to Scotland, oh as long as we vote no in the upcoming referendum, the meaning being if we don’t and he by some extraordinary fluke gets elected will shaft us even more that is happening now.

And a little bit more of a teaser just to wet your appetites, the three stooges Miliband, Shadow Scottish Secretary Margaret nippy sweetie Curran and Scottish Labour leader Johann the teeth Lamont restated their opposition to a shared formal currency union in the event of independence. You can add those three dead heads to, the banks, the CBI, the Tory Government and the elites of the establishment, all of whom have stolen off us for years. What was that about more say in our affairs?

Two Pounds Of Butter

Friends and readers.

Food banks on the increase, living standards at their lowest since the thirties, crisis in the housing market, wages and conditions under increasing pressure, and the public services which are meant to serve the public cracking at the seams, with local Government in real threat of their very existence, but we are all being sold a lie that the economy is on the mend. Borrowing is more than ever with households still harbouring large debts.

This alleged improvement in the economy is once again not due to manufacturing which is still bumping along the bottom but a southern house price lead boom, and that mainly in London. Once again we face the distinct possibility of a bursting bubble and two steps backwards. And yet we are being asked to vote in what is to many meaningless European elections. We are prisoners of the privileged class who as always make the rules to suit themselves while the rest of us pay for it.

We will have to work longer to pay for others blunders while the fat cats lap up the cream and the milk. The great working class movement is no more and we wait at the pleasure of the executioner to see who gets the chop next. The powers of the state are lined up against us with a remit to bleed us all dry. Money is a by product of your labour but we have to labour much more, to just get by and with the rise of zero hour contracts we face a future or many of us do the reality of a system which will show no mercy and blame us for all the problems created by the few but suffered by the many.

Once we lived in a society which held out the opportunity of chance, chance to make good, chance to make life that little bit better, not by riches which seems to be the goal which we are encouraged to go for. Even the pea brained amongst us will realise that only a tiny minority ever get that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. but by endeavor shall we overcome adversity.  We pay the majority of the taxes, yet we have to suffer most of the pain. We are made the empty promises of the ruling class, and are conned every time, and we still come back for more.

Tories promise this and that as the Labourites do, they all do but are powerless to deliver given the backdrop of a nation in the control of the few, driving in a direction of more power to the privileged and scourge the poor. It never changes only the clothes it is dressed in. The revolution never came nor the evolution, it couldn’t, it was strangled at birth.  Don’t give them pay feed them hay, they will get pie in the sky when they die. Marie Antoinette  summed it up, let them eat cake, as she made the case for there being no bread. Kind of say’s it all, tell the mugs if they buy lottery tickets then they will all be rich.

We can all girn and moan, but in the end someone has to cut the grass otherwise it gets out of control it won’t cut itself. But we are led to believe that behind every corner is riches just waiting for us to pick it up, all we need do is guess the right 6 number combination, easy isn’t it. And should we ever feel remotely complacent then all we would need do is listen to Labour shadow finance spokesperson Iain Gray, then depression would really set in. Or if that’s not enough then you can always feel sorry for Sue 3 jobs Bruce, as she obviously dosen’t earn enough at the one job she was employed to do. Or if you really feel magnanimous then stand for a day or two in the Scotmid queue, or play hop scotch trying to avoid the dog shit[where's Cammy when you need him]

Yep it’s all just shit and the working poor are up to their neck in it, and there’s no chance of any sign of Cammy or his comrades doing anything about it. So as you watch yet another TV programme on independence, and get even more confused, and decide that Songs of Praise isn’t that bad after all, lay your head on the pillow and think tomorrow is another day.

 

For Shia And Lulu

Friends and readers.

A reader has contacted us to ask about the unusually large amounts of discarded slightly soiled mattresses which seem to be mysteriously dumped around our diminishing green and pleasant land.The phantom mattress dumper has been at large for a very long time and when short of mattresses to dump resorts to abandoning shopping trolleys alongside the obligatory single shoe.

Our mate and fanatical Sucks devotee Cammy squint tie Day is reportedly on the case, and is determined to ensure that when our phantom caped crusader dumps slightly soiled mattresses, and abandons shopping trolleys, he or she should be made to leave both shoes behind as Cammy rightly say’s ”what good is one shoe to anybody, I tried one on recently it fitted like a glove but the other one wasn’t with it”  Quite right Cammy we are with you on this one.

Our dog fouling czar is puzzled as to the identity of the phantom slightly soiled mattress dumper, and a number of names have been mentioned as possible culprits. Pilton Sucks as ever with it’s finger on the pulse has acquired this hit list of names, who have been suggested as the possible culprit. We asked Ladbrokes to give us guideline odds as to who they thought might be the phantom mattress dumper, shopping trolleys and single shoes, which according to Cammy are always the right foot.

Ladbrokes stopped all early betting on the oaks, Guineas and the Derby to post early odds on our phantom mattress dumper.  Early favourite at 2/1 is our old mate and avid sucks reader Pete[formerly the perm] Strong. Pete could be our man and has the correct credentials to be our phantom mattress dumper. Close behind our Pete is Cammy himself at 11/4. It’s seen by a few that Cammy could be our caped crusader coming to the rescue in exchange for a few votes. If it’s anything like his dog poo initiative then no chance.

Next up at 3/1 is the now departed Henry 2 jobs Houdini Coyle who nobody ever saw so he fits the bill and could be our man. At 9/2 is one of the infamous 5. Deadloss the chief dosser could be the mattress dumper, this would allow him to doss almost anywhere, and leave the place as a shit house which is his normal behaviour.  The odds then drop off to 8/1 and in comes Allan sit on the fence Jackson. Next at 10/1 is our old mate and expert on everything Ross sur mer McEwan. Also at tens is our bestest mate and bling queen Lesley Prada Hinds. outsiders at 20/1 is Vicki the hat Redpath and community conspiracy theorist Thomas Tubby Brown.

You pays your money you take your choice. We would not like to influence the betting and offer no opinion that could affect the punters thinking.  We hear that the upcoming race meeting at Musselburgh will include a two and a half mile novice hurdle aptly named the Soiled Mattress juvenile novice hurdle, sponsored by the Forth Neighbourhood Partnership. Could that be a clue.

Tales From The Waterfront

Friends and readers.

We delve into the world of literacy, and many of our wide and growing readership will remember the wonderful mystical novel, The Wind In The Willows and it’s magical characters Ratty Toad and Mole. And of course dear friends you will not be surprised to learn That the author Kenneth Grahame could have written his novel right here in sunny Forth and had the perfect casting with Lesley Prada Hinds as Ratty, Cammy squint tied Day as Toad and Vicki the hat Redpath as mole. In fact the closer you examine the novel the more the characters resemble our three comrady friends.

Ratty was annoyed this very day as both Toad and Mole had decided to do their own thing without deferring to the wisdom of Ratty. Mole was the one who just followed on nodding her head regardless of what was said preferring to enjoy the sun kissed sand dunes of Cramond where she could mix with the middle class earth dwellers and talk of smokeless barbeques whilst looking at the pictures in the Guardian. Ah yes none of the dog poo for her or burrowing through the queue in Scotmid, Moley preferred the gentile slow paced soak it all up life, yes friends Moley had discovered what Ratty had known for a long time stay away from the lower class earth dwellers unless you need to use them to dam the river.

Toad by comparison was full of himself, a bit of a know all but behind the facade lay a cunning sly character whose dark side often surfaced when trying to rid the riverbank of the lower class earth dwellers, the very same lower class earth dwellers who Toad played up to so he could use them to raise his own social status. Toad changed sides more often than he straightened the squint bow tie he used to wear and seen himself as all things to all people, big problem with Toad was his memory, not only was it selective but inaccurate, depending on what day it was and who he was trying to con.

Toad had this vision of grandeur siding with the more bullish of the lower class earth dwellers promising them everything as long as they kept the ordinaries at bay, those who were only interested in improving their lot and living in pleasant surroundings. Toad was not interested in that, to mundane for his lofty ambitions, he had his eye on the big house on the hill where all the other privileged elitists sat and pontificated upon the lower class earth dwellers making them pay for the lifestyles of their betters. But Toad would have to convince many of the lower class earth dwellers to support his ambition to live amongst the elitists where he could throw off the clothes of the lower class earth dwellers and don more suitable attire on over claimed tax free expenses.

Now Ratty was in a class of her own. Ratty could smile and stab you at the same time without you ever knowing it. Ratty had tried on several occasions to get to the big house on the hill but the lower class earth dwellers seen through her and she was destined to mix with those she couldn’t stand but needed if she was to go through life without ever having to earn a living by having a real job. Ratty enjoyed the finer things in life while kidding on the lower class earth dwellers that she would defend them till the end, more defend them till she got what she wanted then abandon them with a typical act of treachery. Ratty had the unique ability to mess up everything she touched then blame everyone else, a rare gift of buck passing and something that Ratty has perfected.

Ratty was a control freak and tried to disguise it but did it badly, often alienating many of the lower class earth dwellers who she managed to avoid at every opportunity. Ratty’s big motivation in life was to bleed the lower class earth dwellers so she could worm her way into the big house where she could enjoy what she felt was rightfully hers and finally throw off the shackles of a life she resents, and live a life she thinks she is entitled to. Only time will tell if Ratty makes it all the way to the trough at the big house and then push her way to the front so she can stick her nose in it and smell the sweet scent of a tax free expense lifestyle.

So there you have it dear friends, our tales from the riverbank, where many more twists and turns will surface as time goes on. Ratty, Toad and Mole will slither and slide on, promising much and delivering little. The middle class earth dwellers will continue to enjoy a lifestyle fueled on the backs of the lower class earth dwellers, fully supported by those who seek to con the poor so they too can enjoy the lifestyle of the middle class earth dwellers. The plebeians who have been battered back and forth are so punch drunk that in the absence of the truth they will believe anything, and who know’s who will inhabit the big house on the hill.

Murmurs, Mainly Of Discontent

Friends and readers.

News is reaching the ever eager ears of Pilton Sucks. Not good news you may not be surprised to hear. It has become increasingly apparent that the insular Forth Neighbourhood Partnership has become politically motivated, something we have been saying for some time, and something that has reached the ears of Mark Turley, whose grand title is Director of services for Communities and  who it seems has reluctantly agreed to meet some members of the Community to listen to the issues that are causing the mis-management of the Partnership.

A recent meeting at the West Pilton Neighbourhood Center attended by Councillor Maureen Childs to discuss Community issues was little more than a badly chaired Labour Party meeting a very angry delegate from Trinity told us. We could have told you that and we weren’t there. The Forth Neighbourhood Partnership has descended from a functional organisation to a Labour cabal chaired by Cammy squint tie Day whose term as chair should have been up by now but strangely isn’t, and managed by comrade Pete[formerly the perm]Strong.

We have reported to our wide and growing readership about the unseemly dismantling of the Community chaired Action Groups in favour of officer lead decisions or the infamous delegated authority.  We reported to you of the mysterious DOG group who make decisions behind closed doors and lead by the now departed thank God Henry 2 jobs Houdini Coyle who messed up so much he was promoted. Nobody knew what they did but whatever it was wasn’t much. Now it’s going back to those that shout the loudest or can stack the meetings with their lackies that get the most, sounds just like how Labour used to do things, and now it’s making a big comeback.

From what was a fully consulted community, is now in the hands of those who are determined to cash in, along with a carpet bagger or two. Pilton Sucks is well aware who they are and so it seems are one or two others who have had enough, of this Labour Party propaganda machine. We are in the hands, or almost of those who would try and stifle alternative ways of doing things other than their way. Hair brained schemes that are just laughable and offer nothing but a quick buck as long as the taxpayers cough up are openly being aired, and what’s more laughable a few mug punters are actually taken in by this crap. We wouldn’t even mention them as it would publicise this nonsense.

These hair brained schemes have been encouraged by the dismantling of the Partnership and resulted in what we were told was a threat filled meeting disguised as a budget consultation meeting held recently at the Royston Wardieburn Community Center. This is a return to the bad old days when a few backed by a corrupt political machine made idle threats about what they would do if they didn’t get their way. This had the desired effect of scaring off those who just wanted to take an interest or have their say without being shouted down. But dear friends that was pre Pilton Sucks and we won’t be threatened or scared off.  Our mate and avid Sucks reader due mainly to his inexperience allowed this, and yes actively encouraged it thinking he could exploit the situation politically, has in actual fact backfired on him and has resulted in a split which our pal Cammy can’t heal, he caused it, and has decided to run for the hills and Edinburgh West where he hopes the voters return him to Westminster, sorry to disillusion him, more chance of winning the Lottery.

A return to the bad old days of Labour control which seen all opposition isolated bar the lackies is we hope nipped in the bud. Their disastrous self interest rule seen a few in the Community benefit and most if not all of the Community projects run and controlled by place people, and neatly hidden behind the totally corrupt umbrella of the former Pilton Partnership which dished out grants like water to their buddies. This was painted as a Community benefitting from a Labour controlled machine conveniently published on a regular basis by the generous grant receiving Labour controlled NEN. We hope this meeting with Mr Turley bears fruit but we are suspicious and not hopeful as Turley himself was a Labour appointee and openly voiced his disapproval of Community Councils, this alone showed his political hand and he should have been removed when Labour was kicked out of office.

If this meeting has the correct people in attendance then we may see daylight. It must consist of those who will not be put off by intimidation or empty threats, we could name two but we would not like to influence anybody or anything. Pilton Sucks know’s where the skeletons are buried and are happy to contribute if required. As one reader commented last week, ”thank God for Pilton Sucks”

We agree but then of course we would.

Rise And Shine

Friends and readers.

While we were waiting in the weeds for our time to come, we got our 3 millionth hit, that makes us bigger than British Steel, wait a mo we don’t have a steel industry we buy foreign crap instead. Anyway what started as a thought has mushroomed into a hit, thanks to our wide and growing readership. Pilton Sucks has brought you a varied range of goodies and one or two laughs we hope. Characters that have become famous, even our newest friends in the North, the lesser brained infamous 5 or sometimes known as the Hotbox three.

We have tackled subjects that those who should do don’t, domestic Violence, workplace bullying, reporting to you what others would not want you to see and therefore have little to say but beat a retreat and hide. What a time we have had and we hope there is more to come. So take the weight off you brains, sit and read Pilton Sucks, we would like it on the curriculum for excellence, at least you would learn something from us. In our lives today there is much to confuse us, like the queue in Scotmid, it never seems to go down. The laughter and the tears of the put upon parent as she carries her spare toilet roll in her bag should anyone of the infamous 5 get caught short, like how to boil water, or repair what they break, or even how to turn the light on which none of them contribute to paying, what a silly idea.

But Sucks marches on to the irritation of the few killjoys who dream up conspiracy theories and  try and con the punters with schemes that belong in never never land. In the history of the North which few have experienced in it’s glory, we have had a galaxy of punters who have given us a kaleidoscope of colourful ideas most of which were thought up on the back of an envelope. We’ve had all the chancers, all shapes and sizes, most if not all gone, but one or two always seem to surface with mad hatter schemes that always costs us something.

But like the mother in law Sucks is always around to hold to account the chancers and dodgers who spend their time dreaming up new ways to create an angle for themselves while kiding the punters on it’s all for the greater good, course it is, what fools we were or are not to see it. Some have tried to guess the origin of Sucks but nobody has come near. It’s simple really, a punter in a shed somewhere in Mongolia sits and puts together the material while waiting for the queue in his local Scotmid to go down, so he can buy his bar of own brand soap and then take a dip in the Community outdoor swimming pool,picking up his hammer on the way to break the ice. A long way from Eden it might be but that’s not important, only the means of production distribution and exchange matter and they are long gone as well

But us Northerners have steel in our insides, but that’s only when they are not bloated from the shit that Javit’s sells. So as the years have gone by it’s like time has stood still and if you have the misfortune to live in Muirhouse it really has, as daylight for a long time bypassed Muirhouse for fear of getting mugged. But there is light at the end of this pot hole free tunnel as new housing is to be built in Muirhouse and it’s only going to take ten years, so well done Cammy, thats a feather in your cap, although  once they are built it will have taken that long it will be time to demolish them for another new Jerusalem.

But Sucks if not imprisoned on a desert Island with only the biography of Lesley Prada Hinds to read, and no sharp objects anywhere to cut our throats with, will be around for a time yet to bring you the greatest tits, oops sorry hits, well maybe we were right the first time from the peoples republic of nowhere land.

Digging For God Know’s What

Friends and readers.

Many of you will have noticed as will the over taxed over stressed put upon motorist, that once again the yellow jacketed perils are digging at the far end of Lower Granton Road for the umpteenth time. We were told that one of the perils found a mattress and a shopping trolley plus a single shoe circa 1973 after digging down several feet. Once again this stretch of road is under siege and the ensuing mayhem that it causes. We went to see for ourselves after a reader complained to us about having to dodge traffic because some jobsworth told her they hadn’t put up any pedestrian access, this after two weeks.

And of course we did, not only are they digging at the far end it’s the worst end for congesting traffic and that’s without roadworks. our yellow jacketed perils whom when they don their hard hat’s, well some of them anyway, and their oversized jackets seem to be transformed into satan worshipers who do their best to cause as much difficulty as possible. We watched a couple of our friends picking out their horse selections for the day from the Daily Star newspaper, while slugging down gulps of Iron Bru followed by something that loosely resembled sausage rolls, grease and all.

The laugh is there is a sign close to this mess which ironically say’s on it that we apologize for any inconvenience caused, course they do. All kinds of people are caught in this mess, from bus drivers who dream of driving Formula one racing cars to Social Care workers who are running late for the smoked salmon and egg snack they have promised themselves. All forms of life are caught in this trap and how our perils love the power they exert over the frustrated motorist. Meanwhile the pedestrians jump between life and death as they try to figure out the maze of cones that look if you look down at them from above look like crop circles.

The make shift traffic lights are a joke, with some wee punter hiding somewhere whose wife has nagged him all week,and whose horse selections have all run the other way, with a remote control changing them at will or as there are three or four punters who always think they can make it through, beware these roadworks are on a blind corner, so some punter coming the other way may just have the same idea. The Formula One bus drivers have a bet amongst each other as to who can knock the least cones over as they scream round the corner, the lorry drivers don’t care they are too busy unwrapping their half melted Mars Bar while checking out page three of the Sun.

As for the residents who live on the corner especially the punters on the ground floor, this must be a living hell, with no end in sight. They are getting more than their fair share of toxic fumes to go with their cornflakes and cheese on toast. Not to mention the constant bull dozing and hammer drills going, when our friends are not rained off of course, or it’s not break time, or time for the bookies, or just leaning on shovel time, or admiring the view time. Of course the better class of punter in close by Trinity are supplied with ear muffs, furry ones of course, while the serfs just have to put up with it.

When upon asking what these gentlemen were up to, nobody knew, par for the course, and when upon asking when they would be finished, another classic answer, nothing to do with me we are just here to dig up shopping trolleys and mattresses and flog them on the antiques roadshow. Again when we asked about the disruption to all mainly the punters who live directly opposite this war zone, a shrug of the shoulders was the reply. There must be council run training courses for this.

So once again Lower Granton Road is in yet another state of upheaval and disruption, and nobody know’s what’s going on. So Pilton Sucks as always hot on the trail contacted the Council to ascertain what was going on. After being put on hold for about an hour with some dreadful brainwashing music playing in the background, we were awoken by a voice on the other end of the telephone, think it was a human one but you never can tell, informing us that as far as they knew no road works were taking place in Lower Granton Road. So just in case we had seen a mirage we ventured back and lo and behold our yellow jacketed perils were hard at it, and working sometimes as well.

We contacted the council again, this time from the scene of the crime, and put it on speaker phone so our friend from the Council could hear these non existent road works, must be the same person who said there were no pot holes in Edinburgh. We eventually got through thankfully before finishing time, this time to a different voice whom we let hear the on-going non existent road works. The answer we got is we suppose typical of what we have come to expect from our beloved Council. The voice at the other end of the phone asked us if we were sure that it was roadworks that were going on. Shaking our heads in dis-belief we rubbed our eyes just to make sure we were not seeing things. No we weren’t but our friends down Waverley Court way who had just finished watching the Manchurian Candidate[think about it] had us almost convinced we were seeing things.