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Posts tagged as “Cecilia Blomdahl”

YET ANOTHER SVALBARD VIDEO GETS TIKTOK HOWLING: Cabin dweller using dog to deliver mail to neighbor on Syttende Mai gets more than 3.5 million views in less than two days

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Read Time:2 Minute, 23 Second

Well this is Grim (quite literally): It seems Norway’s national holiday is going to the dogs. Or, more specifically, one dog in the most remote part of the country that is winning over millions worldwide by delivering the mail across vast snowfields while everyone else was eating ice cream and drinking beer.

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Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
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Feeling rundown: Locals try to outrun chasing car as long as possible before it finishes them as part of global charity race

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Read Time:3 Minute, 36 Second

You’re being chased by a car while running on a road. You cannot leave the road. And the car will keep getting faster until it inevitably catches up and finishes you.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
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