One group of expats complained yesterday how they have been referred several times by doctors within Luxembourg.

One of the bunch, Steve Galager detailed how he was led own the garden path from his Merl GP to a Strassen Specialist, a Limpertsberg Laboratory, a Surgeon in Esch to a witchdoctor in Vianden.

Buddy Peter chimed in with a similar story, the notable difference being that he was steadfastly denied treatment in a renowned German facility, despite Luxembourg having nowhere near that sort of capability for his condition.  

“They’re still more useful than notaries at least,” he offered.

Galager added “Every Doctor I saw had a certificate from the same university on their wall.  One even had a picture of them all together at Primary school with the same holier-than-thou look on their smug little faces.”

After another beer he chuckled “Alright, I made the fucking witchdoctor part up, but you get the point.”

Technicians from a telecommunications company which shall remain nameless opened up a whole new world for a patient consumer yesterday morning.

“They were different to the shining, smiley people in the shop,” said mother-to-be Matylda Huzku.  The Merl resident was at a loss for words when her scheduled internet installation did not go as easily as the initial sale did.

“They parked diagonally across the driveway and pounded on the door.  I was left standing there holding the paper I was supposed to show them.  One bolted into my apartment on all fours and the other disappeared into the basement.”

“It was probably to get me set up with wifi as soon as possible.”

“Jack-booted Stormtroopers?!"   a Client Service Bod spluttered to the Splice.  “Our technicians take the greatest care to answer your questions and make the whole process as painless as possible.”

“The one ransacking my wardrobe screamed yes when I asked if he wanted an espresso.” said Husku.  “I chose to leave it there given he was foaming at the mouth.”

Another resident added, “I heard god-awful clanging and satanic laughter so I went downstairs.  The guy had wrenched open all the control boxes and was fusing the cables together in his mouth.  I guess Matylda will have to reschedule.” 

“Winter tyres are due when the conditions are apparent.”

“No they’re not, they need to be changed on November 1st.  Not before or after.”

“You’re both fucktards.  I punched it through the Howald Tunnel at 190 with Summer tyres last Winter, no problem.”

These are the kinds of trending online threads spewed recently by the expat community.

“These comments start quite reasonably and drift into utter dribbling madness after mere minutes,” said a Lux highway Police Officer.  “We don’t just have to deal with the unworkable volumes passing through the country, ranging from barefoot nomads to convoys of angry freedom fighters.” 

“Now we have to deal with the stupidity of our own resident know-everythings.”

The Splice pressed on what this might mean for the motorists of the Grand Duchy.  The Officer replied, “Do what you want.  But if we catch you we’ll shoot out your tyres.  Then go online and shout about that.”    

What kind of ex-pat Lux resident are you?
Do stop by and take our survey:

1. Tolls are introduced between Thionville and Luxembourg.  You…
A) Chuckle on the inside but express fake sympathy to French colleagues.
B) Head straight to the Company responsible and bitch all day long while thrusting your placard towards any media that shows up.
C) Laugh your ass off, drink a shot and do a pixie dance.
 
2. A new Government coalition is setup.  You…
A) Learn Luxembourgish and join the Demokratesch Partei as they are apparently the big boys.
B) Stand and nod as you pretend to read the leaflets in your mailbox.  Then you trash them as soon as you scuttle inside.
C) Stuff all the junk mail from your box into a neighbour’s.  Go inside and laugh as they swear at whoever did this. 

3. One of the talking-head politicians says Luxembourgish should be the main language here with English as a second.  You…
A) Carry on being a prick in any language that you speak.
B) Switch your phone off and pretend it’s all a bad dream as you head to a client meeting at the Sofitel to talk endless shit.
C) Laugh your ass off, pop open a beer and do a pixie dance. 

4. Luxembourg schools come in rock bottom on European league tables as usual.  You…
A) Smirk as you send your kids back to their Swiss boarding school.
B) Remark that Luxembourg should be more like Finland to other parents who don’t even want to know your first name.
C) Laugh your ass off, sit down and watch a classic movie with a glass of brandy. 

5. A fresh faced young couple ask you to take a picture of them outside the Philharmonie.  You...
A) Utter a Luxembourgish insult as you trot past on your horse.
B) Take the pic, and then ask where they are from with the kind of sympathy usually reserved for refugees.
C) Reverse the camera and take a snap of yourself holding up the finger.  Walk off and shout “Losers!” as they distraughtly see what you’ve done. 

6. Your ‘friend’ calls you and asks if you want to meet up to go apple picking (resulting in 300 of them rotting in your kitchen).  You…
A) Scold them for not being there already as you have reserved the whole orchard for the day.
B) Go, but spend most of the time in an empty row hating all that you are.
C) Pretend they’ve got a wrong number by doing a really bad foreign accent, hang up and then get shit-faced in Trier. 

7. Another ‘friend’ moves right next to their workplace and invites you to the housewarming.  You…
A) Buy a magnum of Dom Perignon and welcome him/her to your vapid club.  Current Membership: 1.
B) Go over with a fake smile, a script of pre-rehearsed dialogue and an awful bottle of Crement that someone else gave to you.
C) Rock up in the middle of the party and smack them with a venomous fish.  Chuck the fish on the cheap Aldi spread and bounce. 

​If you scored:
Mostly A’s: You are a scumbag.  Hang yourself in a public place.
Mostly B’s: You’re probably in the majority of ex-pats here.  You’re part of a socio-economic group known as ‘assholes.’
Mostly C’s: You’re pretty cool, and not afraid to be a little kitsch!  Rock on dingus.