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Friends and readers. If we are to believe our annointed leaders or the ones that hope to be the green shoots of recovery are upon us, aren’t we the lucky ones.

Let us take a short trip down memory lane to remind ourselves who in fact got us into this mess, and much if not all of this mess inflicted upon the average citizen who of course will be or indeed is in line to pick up the tab for the cost of the clean up.

The financial mess our little planet is in was caused by greed and calousness on the part of those who thought they could make a quick buck on the backs of others, that dear friends more or less sums up capitalism as we live it. On the floor of the various stock exchanges round the world our lives were bought and sold more than once when we could not be bought and sold anymore we could not pass go nor collect our £200 and went bust, but there within lies the rub, those that bought and sold us just shrugged their shoulders with a, that’s life attitude so we the taxpayer helped them out so they could carry on paying themselves large sums of cash this time because the debt was not as big as forecasted, wasn’t that generous of them.

Looking for the green shoots of recovery is akin to looking for a needle in a haystack only this needle pricks and makes as all bleed and bleed till we are dry. Dear friends as we cling on to the hope that tomorrow will be a better day our honourable leaders make pronouncements of recovery and the sun beginning to shine while at the same time sharpening their knives ready to cut into our quality of lives once more telling us all that this is the medicine needed to aid recovery. Why then do the Government in our name allow taxpayers money to be spent on bonuses for bankers just because the debt is not as large as first thought, it is still horrendus but that dosen’t seem to matter as we the people will be picking up the tab in the shape of more cuts and job losses and much more austerity to come and that’s just the cake the cream has still to go on yet.

And what dear friends could that cream consist of. Well it is certainly clear that local authorities will face the brunt of the economic savagery to come which will of course affect us all. All our esteemed leaders and the ones to come are foretelling of nightmare scenarios coupled with the fact that frontline services will be protected, will someone please explain to our political elites that all services are front line as we the people pay for and are the reciepients of said services.

The Organic Mirage is exactly that, there are precious little if any green shoots of recovery and the economic desert waste land is spreading through out the land and not an oasis in sight. The Torries will just get their sun loungers out and bask in the desert while the people will burn and hurt. Cameron and co will do nothing they are establishment clones and only a mere tinkering with the status quo will be required to show their true colours. Labour have lost their way after years in office and have begun to show signs of real fatigue. But of course there is still hope, our blue blooded friends in the Tory party are only 5 points ahead in the opinion polls so someone must be listening to Pilton Sucks, as that’s not nearly enough to form a Government not a majority one anyway and thank god for that. The people who will bother to vote must equate the real issues that confront us and not the pussy footing about that the Torries will give us, hammer the least able to defend themselves and hand out gifts to their well heeled pals.

A hung parliament at this time might just be what the doctor ordered, where consensus makes for common sense and pragmatic politics where all the peoples interests are put first, not just those that have the loudest voice or the biggest wallet. In times such as these there is an argument to revolutionise our whole set up and bring into public ownership the means of production distribution and exchange, failing that this is not the time to chuck people onto the scrap heap but invest in our future.

Don’t be fooled into believing that we must butcher our services in order that we can survive or tax increases on those least able to afford them, this is a fools gold policy and one destined to failure. If we can bail out failed and corrupt financial institutions with billions of taxpayers pounds then we can care for those that picked up the tab US.               

Friends and readers. Workplace bullying has now reached the highest levels of Government with our noble PM himself being accused of this hideous practice.

Pilton Sucks broke the story some time ago of serious workplace bullying within the Muirhouse Social Work Centre and we lead a public campaign to out this practice into the public arena. Since we broke the story some time ago both the perpetrators of this criminal act have been moved to pastures new in an attempt to cover up what went on.

Pilton Sucks has kept up the pressure for action but still nothing has happened and the two criminals in question have escaped punishment, but Pilton Sucks remains hot on their trails. Both are still employees of Edinburgh City Council and both are still in positions of responsibility much to the shame of this City Council.

Workplace bullying was systematically carried out by these two thugs and at one stage reached the ears of the press but was managed to be covered up by the powers that be.

Shame on these indiviuals that done nothing and allowed this criminal act to be carried out and place staff at risk from two no-necked thugs who took pleasure in abusing staff knowing that they could and would get away with it.

But now workplace bullying has hit the headlines again and looks like it could be an election issue. There is no excuse for those that would abuse others within the workplace that is unless of course you are employed within Edinburgh City Council who allow these hideous practices to go on and then try and cover up and deny that this practice goes on.

Slowly things are beginning to change with a recognition that this behaviour is totally unacceptable and the perpetrators must be punished. What our Politicians must do at City level is make sure that this is hammered home and all those found guilty of workplace bullying be punished and exposed.

Employees have a right to feel safe at their place of work free from the virus of workplace bullying. Highlighting this problem at the highest level of Government brings home this fact to every employee everywhere. It’s just a great pity that two mindless thugs may have escaped justice just because their superiors did not know what to do or just plainly walked away and allowed victims to suffer.

SHAME ON YOU.

Friends and readers. Today dear friends Pilton Sucks is in somewhat of a reflective almost nostalgic mood, and to that end and with election fever in the air or something akin to it we take this opportunity to go down memory lane and take a little stock. Hope you enjoy it.

Scottish feeling against England did not cease with the death of William and it soon became evident that only closer union could prevent complete seperation. James VI had dreamt of a united Parliament, Cromwell had actually summoned thirty Scottish members to sit at Westminster, one of William III’s last acts was to send a message to his ministers urging  them to consider how union might be effected.

In accordance with William’s wishes, commissioners from both countries were appointed in the first year of Queen Anne’s reign to discuss terms, but they could not agree, and their meeting came to nothing, there were great difficulties in the way. England jealously guarded her trade with the colonies, Scotland mindful of the failure of the Darien Scheme and anxious to become a great commercial nation, demanded equal trading rights as the price of union.

The act of Settlement of 1701 settling the crown upon the Electress Sophia and her Protestant decendants, had been passed by the English Parliament without consulting Scotland and this naturally gave great offence north of the Tweed. Feeling was so strong that in 1703 the Scottish Parliament passed an Act of Security, declaring that on the death of Anne, Scotland would choose as it’s sovereign a Protestant descendant of the House of Stewart, but not the same person as England, unless the northern kingdom were granted freedom in religon. government and trade.

To provide the means for carrying out this act, it was ordained that the whole Scottish nation be put under arms, and drilled regularly once a month.

This dear friends endeth the history lesson hope it was a bit of an eye opener and helps you in a very small way to think about your vote come election day, there is an opinion out there in the bigger world that should Cameron and his unionist party take 0ffice come May we will be but a colony once again, but it is as we say just an opinion, what do you think.     

Friends and readers. During these times we live in you may perhaps pause for a while to consider, where do we go from here? good question, and one with numerous answers depending on your point of view.

In this green and for now not very pleasant land we live in it falls to those that have put themselves forward sometimes we think in the pretence of looking after your interests. The Camelot style Government of former PM and now media darling Tony Blair is but a memory, replaced by the dark knight and micro manager Gordon Brown, who seems sometimes to be something of a lost sheep wandering around looking for the safety of the flock who have decided to abandon him to the wolves of his own party.

For Brown it is now clear his days are numbered what makes this crystal clear is the real lack of enthusiasim coming from the pretenders to the Labour leadership. We are on the countdown to E day and the vultures are hovering waiting to chew on the carcus as they move into position ready to swoop should Labour as the polls predict do anything other than win an outright majority.

For us mere plebs and onlookers the real tradgedy is while the elected Government should do what the punters elected them to do, behind the scenes knives are being sharpened in readiness for  a Labour defeat and a Brown Retiral to spend more time with his family.

The other part of Camelot up here in Bonny Scotland Cameron who has parctically no support other one or two die hards has promised more Powers for the Scottish Executive, read a cut in grant from Westminster and a realignment of the Barnet formula which means tax increases for the Scottish punter outwith any hikes the Torries will certainly put in place.

Cameron has quickly realised the benefits of a Scottish Government not so his mob can get any more seats that indeed would be a bonus, but a quick fix to saving cash and punishing Scots voters for having the cheek to try and govern themselves.

Camerons real distaste for Scotland is obvious he supports Andy Bell Goldie who frightens voters with her matronly type politics and her copy of Thatchers Biography which she has firmly clutched to her heart. The Tories hate Scotland they always have seeing it has a place to come hunting shooting and fishing where strange people live that sometimes wear odd clothing and have strange customs.

You can believe that this part of Camelot will come in for a real hiding if the Bullingdon boys get their way, they might even sell us off to the highest bidder or float us on the stock exchange to raise a few quid in order to lower the taxes of their elitist pals.

Yes dear friends the Camelot of King Arthur and his knights of the round table may just be a fable set to charm the minds of people, but the round table that would be king Cameron will be no fable and his dark knights will set about us with gusto and hunger. Nothing and nobody will be safe as King Cameron and Sir Lancelot Osbourn his trusted aide-for the present anyway- put their plan into action should the voters take their happy pills and vote them into office.

Camelot if it existed is no more and it is now stuff of legends Merlin worked his last piece of magic many moons ago and Guenivere is or was Camelots Helen of Troy. The search for the Holy Grail goes on what and were ever it is, but for the voters of this Camelot beware the Holy Grail of devolution something which the Tories never wanted and still don’t will be underminded at ever opportunity and Scotland may well be forced down the road once again of being the poor neighbour who asks for more only to be thrown into the dungeons for daring to question King Cameron and Lancelot Osbourn.

Friends and readers. Today is the most important day of your lives. Why? because every day is. To breath, to think to wonder of the riches of life that surrounds us and to try and breath it all in. We are all but cogs in the great wheel of turning and turning as we make our way through these lives of ours never really knowing what is in store for us.

Yes indeed we want,  possibly even desire any number of things but when we get right down to it, do we consider what really matters, what is really important in building a quality of life that makes everything else worth while. So much that surrounds us today is about what we can have or own that will make life so much better and enhance it to heights we never dreamed possible.

But dear friends when we get right down to it it’s all an  illusion created by advertisers who don’t give a dam about you but the bottom line of a balance sheet somewhere. We are bombarded by advertisements offering us utopia in abundance if only we had this particular item, from three piece suites to the latest toy, and if you don’t have the latest high tech HD TV to view these delights then your neighbour Mr.Jones will leap ahead of you in the quest for the perfect Utopian existence.

But spare a thought for a moment dear friends about the real need in society, one which  advertisers and media people ignore because there is no profit in it, and that dear friends is what we put into our own lives to make it all worth while. The crazy madness and speed which life is led lt means simply that at some point we will meet up with ourselves on the way back and wonder what it was all about.

If we are daft enough to read or even worse believe what we read in our free press then we were born to be mugged. We are constantly bombarded by this and that much of which is trivia and tittle tattle designed to give us the cheap thrill that sells the tabloid crap which inpersonates real news and current events.

Election time is coming and if you read the Tory press then it is all done and dusted before a vote is cast and Bullingdon mates Cameron and Osbourn will walk into Downing Street and make the lives of the worst off even more of a misery than they already are. Democracy is the big loser in all this as pressure is exerted on us to cast our vote the way the media barons think we should.

At one time it was reported that the Sun Newspaper could elect Governments, what dear friends does that say about both the paper and the voter. If it’s wrong in your life then fix it without the help of some opinion poll that tells you what is wrong.

All know that the Tories will make your life a misery and than tell you it had to happen for the sake of the country, what they forget to tell you is that it is also for the sake of their pals as well. When it comes to make your mind up time, then sit and think about the quality of life that you and yours would like to have and then decide if it’s worth the bother or it’s too wet outside to bother going to some delapidated polling station with it’s plywood booth and x marking the spot.

But of course dear friends if we had something important to vote on things might be a little different. Lets vote on bankers bonuses, lets vote on constitutional change lets vote on enhancing the quality of our lives and that of our families and dear friends lets vote on why we allow priviledge to dominate our existence and make this democratic playing field so uneven that most of us slip back the way and find it difficult to remain on our feet as we get banged and battered by our rulers who insist on punishing us for the mistakes of others.

The ruling elite offer nothing but a punishing cruel and harsh regime for those that don’t follow the code set down by their ancestors who robbed and killed their way to the land owning fairy tale democracy that we are spoon fed to believe.

Nothing in this life of  ours is worth anything but what we put into it ourselves, Oh yes we can own this and that and have a few quid in the bank or in our pockets, but we will always be serfs looking from the outside in at the mercy of others who decide our fates behind closed doors and then explain it away with some excuse or other.

We the people did not bring down upon our heads the economic sinking ship that we are all cast adrift on we did not sail it into financial disaster and hit the rocks of bankruptcy but we the people face the consequences and will be forced to live with them for some considerable time to come. Our quality of lives will suffer our very meaning to life will come into question, but through all this we have this one enduring quality, the consistency of existence and our will to survive even a Tory Government.

Friends and readers. For all who live in North Edinburgh there is clearly no better place to live. Oh yes other parts of the city may have this and that and the odd million pound house but who the hell wants that.

We have a thriving active Community constantly pushing for improvement in the quality of life. Much happens in this corner of the world thanks to those who want to see a better Community. For the minority who and every Community has them who want to make the lives of others a misery, we will all continue to make sure that is not tolerated.

We have our fair share of problems and that’s nothing new or suprising but this Community has come on leaps and bounds and continues even in these difficult economic times to do all we can to better our lives and those of our neighbours.

Progress on new housing continues as well as a proposed new health centre and enviromental improvements can be seen all around us. The neighbourhood partnership is making progress as to the action groups which seek to bring improvements to our Community.

There are many good and decent people who have dedicated years of their lives fighting for this Community and Pilton Sucks would like to take the opportunity to offer our personal thanks to all those who have given of their time without any kind of financial reward but out of a dedication to improving their Community.

No thanks is large enough nor voice loud enough to praise our activists and although differences over the years may have arisen all have aimed at getting the changes required to make our Community a better place to live.

Pilton Sucks as you know reaches the parts that others don’t and tries to report the goings on in and around the Forth area and beyond. We are now read world wide and hopefully in our own small way have helped put North Edinburgh into the homes of people right across the globe.

So if Peter-man at C an A’s- Strong our people friendly and politically unbiased [well that’s what he tells us] Neighbourhood Manager reads this little post he may well be known about world wide, what a frightening thought that is, not for Pete but the poor readers.

We can hopefully still laugh at ourselves and take critisism firmly on the chin, for dear friends if we can’t laugh at ourselves then we can’t laugh at all.

Friends and readers. The dream making machine that is within us all has on occasions as we are sure you will agree gone into overdrive and plunged you head first into utopia and a land of milk and honey.

No doubt many of our readers buy on a regular basis your ticket to paradise only as long as the six numbers you selected come up. The high of waiting for the draw is balanced by the low when you realise your dream is over for a little while anyway and it’s back to the hum drum of every day life.

But do the riches that await the lucky punter really give you the utopian dream you think you want or the start of a nightmare as many of the people who have publisised their win have found out to their cost.

New bigger house new bigger car bigger and better hoildays in the sun, possibly a membership to that golf club that you always thought you hankered for, but in reality is full of the bull shitting brigade who regard you as a piece of rough that got lucky.

And there we have it in a nutshell class ridden Britain so divided that even your own winning dream machine cannot cross it. The democratic rights of the individual to make as big an ass of him or herself as possible is enshrined in some sort of law somewhere is it not as our betters tut tut at the boorish behaviour of the underclasses.

It is your democratic right to live like a pig in shit because you were born into the bondage of the working classes, yet by some freak of nature for the few who lord it over the many a birth right hands them the keys of the kingdom of democracy. These are the very same ruling class who fought tooth and nail against every right that the average citizen won and then taxed them for the priviledge.

The bondage of the working class was meant to chain you to the treadmill for life paying for the honour of being ruled over by those that were handed power because their fore fathers were bigger and stronger and managed to kill much more easily and steal their way to the top of our society.

We now tug at our fore locks in reverance to their majestic presence and admire what they call their own when in reality they stole it from someone else. Many of our citizens never seem to get out of the bit as one demand after another comes at them, this bill that bill, this tax that tax, and respite may only come if you are lucky, if you can call it luck with two weeks on a crowdy beach in a second rate half board hotel on one of the Costa’s.

Is this what it’s really all for greasy badly cooked food and sun stroke all in the name of fun, makes a quite night in front of the telly seem like heaven in comparison.

The lot of the majority is a take it or leave it world. From the post office queue to the doctors surgery, with the fearsome receptionist demanding to know if you have an appointment and if not you will have to make one and a doctor is not available for another 6 months, so hard lines, but if you are really needy then you can take your chance at the open surgery which opens at 8.30am but the queue starts about 7.00am in the morning so if you are not quick you could be in a queue that stretches round the corner were you can have a chat with one of the assistants who works in Scotmid who has just nipped out for a fag bemoaning the fact that her six numbers didn’t come up the previous night but she was close, never mind there is always next time.

Yes dear friends as we avoid the dog shit that decorates our pavements all colours of the rainbow we can dream of better days where we can all have fun in the sun and eat half cooked hamburgers with grease ladden chips, a mouth watering prospect and a definate gut buster. Better still dear friends a visit to our local chemist is an appetising prospect, never in the history of queues has there been one slower than this it makes the queue in Scotmid seem positively sprint like in comparison. 

All the wonders of the modern age awaits you in this shop of horrors, perfumes that your granny would refuse to adorn herself with assistants from a bygone age with two speeds dead slow and stop. Oh yes we have it all in a moments glance, the doctors surgery in Boswall Parkway with it’s regular patrons, and the odd ligitimate patient, Scotmid on Crewe Road North where the prices seem to rise on an hourly basis and it’s neighbour the people friendly Chemist where the shout of ‘ Do you pay for your perscription’ can be heard streets away as the battle scarred assistant who has seen it all hands over the pills to cure your ills after shouting your name at the top of her voice, ‘Mrs——  your valium is ready take ten a day and more if you need to now mind and don’t drink alcohol’, ’and by the way did you see Scotmid has got a great deal on it’s Vodka’.

Ah yes dear friends all is there in the tapestry of life, no need to go further afield to enjoy the sights and sounds of everyday life in suburbia. As the queue for the open surgery meanders it’s way from Scotmid round the corner and you begin to smell the fresh-well that’s just a rumour- of Mathisons the bakers delighful pies and sausage rolls and did you know dear friends they have gone continental with curry pies isn’t that so keeping up with our new European image. As you take in the smell of something or other the worst bank in the city opens it’s doors for business where we are told you have to have an account just to get change, hows that for customer service.

With it’s ever reliable broken down cash machine and the frustrated punters inside this giant of the banking world it makes the open surgery queue seem that little bit more bearable as you smile at someone elses misfortune. If you are very lucky you will get into the surgery before the cut off time which is ten oclock, which of course means dear friends that you may have been in the queue for an eternity and have caught every form of flu as you tried to stave off the biting cold wind that sweeps round Boswall Parkway to Crewe Road North, but to no avail our people trained receptionist stands arms folded at the entrance of the surgery with they shall not pass look in her eyes.

It was rumoured unconfirmed of course that very recently a patient or nearly a patient arrived at the surgery doubled over in pain, and when the receptionist finished playing with the computor asked what was the matter, our plucky patient replied ‘I think it’s my appendix’ with a rapid responce almost rapier like our ever ready receptionist replied with a cutting yet sympathetic tone ‘You will have to wait in the queue like everone else’ once more dear friends we witness life at the sharp end of the NHS were peoples needs come first as long as they are prepared to queue for ever.

The out of date magazines have a certain nostalgic feel to them as we thumb through back copies of readers digest and National Geographic, and look above at where once a TV sat but now just an empty space as one intrepid patient helped themselves as a form of compensation for having to wait for so long to get a sick line backdated 6 months.

Friends and relatives you didn’t even know existed meet as they wait and wait and wait to be seen for all of 30 seconds by a GP who is exhausted by 9.30am, and needs their own script to keep going. This is life in the fast lane this is what dreams are really made of something six numbers can’t buy. 

So next time you sit in front of the telly with your ticket ready to leap through the roof remember there is some things money can never buy. 

Friends and readers. You may have read our article on HR Departments, and for those who don’t know or just don’t give a dam HR stands for Human Resources or in old fashioned money Personal Department.

For those poor unfortunate souls who have had an experience with HR,  probably bad we sympathise. These labotomised lab rats like nothing better than to subject an employee to a  good old fashioned humiliation. This is where HR shines and comes into it’s own. Public flogging would be their first choice or indeed a dimly lit street type mugging would come high on their list of punishments they would like to carry out.

HR strikes fear into the hearts of the average employee and many abandon hope once entering into the demon towers occupied by the robotic machines that is the staff of HR.

No thought of redundanacy for them, they are needed to torture other employees and make them suffer until they squeeze the last drop of blood from them or they commit hari kari. No thought of support or care from this mob of villians quite the opposite inflict pain and plenty of it and then try and disguise it by mooting the excuse of trying to find the truth.

HR are not remotely interested in the truth that might show an employee completely innocent of any cobbled together alleagation, so heads you lose tails you lose because if HR even considered that an employee was innocent they would make something up to fit their thinking.

So what is the poor employee to do. As soon as HR get a hold of you, you are guilty as cobbled together charged.  Only one thing for it head them off at the pass, by taking them on at their own game. head to head and be not afraid as fear shown to HR will consume them with even more vigor in an attempt to bury you in a mountain of rules and regulations, most of which they made up themselves or interperate them the way they choose.

A fight to the finish is always the best advice give no ground to them stand firm and upright with a glint of steel in your eyes, and think things out as be sure HR will have done their homework on you with determination to get something on you, or put something there that they think should be there.

Fight on dear friends and fear not the grim reaper of HR, their sythe is only as sharp as they think it is. Most often it is blunt so they have to hit the employee until they give in.  

Friends and readers. Where did it all go wrong? How on earth was this allowed to happen? Who took their eye off the ball? Did Joe ordinary ever have any kind of a handle on a situation that was kept behind the closed and hallowed doors by the great and the good of the financial world.

Currency speculators, mortgage debt buyers who helped plunged the world into this economic disaster alongside their friends who bought and sold peoples lives hopes and dreams on the floor of the Stock Exchange, all this based on the common principle of greed and dam the concequences.

The previous Bush administration in America which was riddled with corruption and incompetence together with their complete lack of principles towards their own people contrived to bring the world headlong into disaster.

It didn’t matter that millions could end up on skid row with holes in their pockets shouting Buddy can you spare a dime, no indeed dear friends not as long as the financial wheeling dealing on Wall Street long since elevated to near saint hood was left unregulated and free to ruin as many lives as possible, ordinary lives of ordinary people whose main aim in life was to try and provide a decent standard of living for themselves and their families.

These very same Joe ordinaries who provide the means by which all this wheeling dealing can go on are always in the front line and are always the first casualties. No pity nor solace is given as they are thrown on to the scrape heap and held directly responsible for the greed and mismanagement of a few individuals who prostituted themselves at the altar of capitalism and then ran away leaving others to pay the tab.

Families, across  the world are in the grip of and suffering from this worshiping of greed is good and lunch is for wimps mentality. The Gordon Geko’s of this world are boils that need to be lanced and then disinfected with law and regulation preventing their utter contempt for honour or principle something that in their eyes is tantamount to swearing.

This dear friends requires back bone from politicians something of which is in very short supply, and historically always has been. Our Government has shown the way by discarding what little backbone they had and allowed our banks and yes believe it or not we the people do own them, to pay themselves once more the sheer obsenity of bonuses which more than leaves a bad taste in the mouths of decent ordinary people who find themselves very close to if not already on the breadline.

This situation is so incredible it’s hard to contemplate such utter hypocracy and a direct kick in the teeth to the very people whose money was used to get these banks out of the mess that they themselves created. The trickle down effect to the most basic of public sevices will become clearer as the year goes on. Cuts here there and everywhere and once again Joe punter will bear the brunt as they consistently do.

We the people have watched powerless as our rulers and their pals have hung drawn and quartered us and scattered the pieces to the four winds. We the people have been cast adrift in rough seas with no food or water and then told land may be sighted sometime so don’t worry as when we send the doves out to retrive the first shoots of recovery all will be well and land once more will surface.

We the people must declare that we the victims  and the sufferers of the pain inflicted by the few demand the rights that we are told we have but cannot exercise. We the people have a right to be heard in the hallowed and sacred corridors of that most select and private of clubs where by birth you were given the right to rule by force if necessary but by school tie if unchallenged, and we the people demand to be heard in those financial warrens where our lives are bought and sold for less than 40 pieces of silver.   

Friends and readers. In the dark and dimly lit streets of wunderbar Wardieburn there is a creeping figure which awaits the unsuspecting punters of Wardie of the Burn. This shadowy figure with the sharpened claws is none other than the Provie man together with his appreciating percentage rate waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting ingenu.

In and out the dusty bluebells the punters do scatter as the Provie man chases his victims with promises of goodies a plenty at vastly inflated prices but it’s okay we’ll lend you the dosh at a mere 100% interest what a bargain.

The firing squads of debt collectors are at the ready just in case the lucky punters default on their Provie loan or even better a quick top up just to get you further into debt isn’t that just brill.

The man from the Provie casts a long menacing shadow which covers our beloved area and darkens the sky with the false promises of a quality of life you could never afford anywhere else. He lurks in corners impossible for anyone to spot as he waits to jump out on his next victim who has been picked at random from the phone book or court case names.

They can alternatively buy a list of names from those dreadful punters who call you from some foreign place trying to sell you everything from life insurance to a bargain second hand car which has only two previous owners an old lady and the British army.

This dear friends is the land of the Provie hit squads armed to the teeth with their application forms latest mobile phone ill fitting suits and squint ties, this is the uniform the unsuspecting punter has to be wary of. For if captured in the spiders web of Provie cheques your life will become their’s and you will forever be in the debt of the kingdom of Provie a far off land next to Oz which has it’s own wizard who can  conjure up interest rates that will make your hair turn white and age you instantly.

So dear friends when you follow this yellow brick road remember this the land of the Provie does not have the Providence you seek nor the wizard to give you heart brains or courage to defy the might of the grand vizar and his hit squads of Provie hench men. This dear friends is not the stuff of dreams and no Dorothy to meet you on the brick road to warn you of the sunny times of Provie land.

The Provie cheques may offer  a world of dreams and flat screen tellys but beware you will be paying for the telly long after the rubbish men have collected it alongside the mattresses and three piece suites that adorn the streets of Wardie of the Burn