THE number of genuine Scots resident in Edinburgh has hit a new August low of three, surveyors have confirmed.
With the Fringe well underway, anyone native to the city has been left with no choice but to evacuate to avoid the flood of Oxbridge graduates and their arsehole relatives who pay to see their bollocks shows.
Bill McKay, who owns a flat in Tollcross, said: “I thought I could handle it. I boarded myself in, like Renton going cold turkey in Trainspotting. I lasted amost two weeks.
“But by then the constant barrage of feminist Shakespeare, angry Harry Potter monologues and political street magic seeped under the door, gentrifying everything. Even my Tennent’s Super. I leapt out of the window and didn’t stop running until Dalkeith.”
Susan Traherne said: “The pubs are rammed with wankers demanding a discount because they’ve doing a play about a pre-menstrual Stalin. Every room big enough for 12 people is staging a comedy show that abruptly becomes an examination of trauma two-thirds through.
“You can’t be Scottish and survive that. We’ve had no choice but to flee for the Highlands, leaving our flats behind us to be rented at three grand a week to five people who’ve been on Live at the Apollo.”
Resident Ryan Whittaker said: “You have to hand it tae the English, coming up with something worse than all their f**king stag nights.”
