Native English speakers who make sure to perfect their French but are at the same time utterly disdainful of any other language or culture are edging further into obscurity, the Splice is proud to inform. The vehicle being used to justify this outright narcissism is running out of gas baby.
In an oh-so-slowly internationally growing Grand Duchy, the relevance of the holier-than-thou toff is waning*.
Bilingual android Ben proffered, “I ride First Class on the Eurostar and TGV not to just get away from the scum but to also give more gravity to the complaints I make afterwards. Common sense isn’t it?”
Ben isn't pictured above because he's even more of a prick than that guy.
When prompted about Luxembourg's other neighbours he spewed “Belgium is a transit country as far as I'm concerned and if I find myself in Germany I talk French, then sigh and inconveniently switch to English.”
As he strode off he huffed, “Don’t even get me started on those disgusting Brazilians who clean my office.”
The Splice says good riddance to Ben and his ilk, here’s hoping you sail away down a drain where that clown from ‘IT’ hangs out.
*There is one plus side to these vain dandies, the Splice is grateful that they use the term ‘railway station’ instead of ‘gare’ in the rare moments they do decide to speak English.
Deep from the minds of innumerable Lux-based parents comes Mannequin Throwing Day. This new concept is to start off as an annual event, and could become daily if popular enough (it will be).
The event will be open to everyone who lives near a road in the Grand Duchy. The only stipulations are that the mannequins must resemble human beings and can only be thrown across pedestrian crosswalks at the sound of incoming traffic.
Prizes are awarded to the 10 throwers who cause the most distress to speeding drivers. Runner-up prizes will go to anyone who can make drivers look up from their phones.
The Mayor of a Commune even Luxembourgers didn't know existed, said "If we can get just one of these bastards to crash into a river, then the whole thing is a success."
The HR Consultant - (noun) A baseless parasite. A ball of nastiness from the pits of Hades. An over-opinionated, over-qualified fucktard (who hates you).
These people are infecting the Grand Duchy like a plague. An earnest young job seeker expanded on this for the Splice. "I liked the sound of one expanding bank so applied and was happy to be granted an interview. However my rapport with the Managers was warped by the fourth presence in the room, sneering at me like that girl in the Exorcist."
Braving a face to face meeting with one of these creatures, the Splice was informed as follows: "We are programmed to infiltrate CVs and rip them to shreds from the inside out. Bottom line is, we must ridicule the candidates and expose them for the liars that they are."
"A postgraduate degree in Human Resources, studied at a basically free university teaches you to ignore personal circumstances and feelings to concentrate on looking good for the Company who is overpaying you. Economic crisis? Let me get my fucking violin."
The Splice advised the Consultant to take deep breath, and imparted some truth.
"Slow your roll down, and let's strip this right back to basics. "
"You're a little cunt."
Recruitment Agencies in Luxembourg will plough on just as they have always done. With eyes and ears firmly shut.
"Yep!" said a Suit who probably has a family. "We call people and ask them to tell us exactly what's written on their CVs and Cover Letters, then do it again in person - only at greater length. Throughout this we pretend to understand and make notes. When done we generally go silent, even if the job in mind was actually available in the first place."
An unsuspecting punter chirped "I strolled into one of those fancily named places thinking they would help. Did they fuck. They put me forward for a job that's been doing the rounds for months. One of the gutsy cunts even said that an €800-a-month pay-cut was great motivation."
Another candidate told the Splice, "I got the Spanish Inquisition by an agency goon. They grilled me on the D grade I received for GCSE Latin in 1997, I only did it because I hated Chemistry! They then put me forward for an IT job I had no chance of getting. The goon finished by telling me they are proud to be an Investor in People."