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Posts tagged as “rubbish hut”

Chillingly clueless: Svalbard’s 10 strangest stories of 2015

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Read Time:10 Minute, 13 Second

Which is stranger: a year where parasitic wasps went on a killing spree or the year that actually happened? Yeah, we’re not sure either.

All we know is both versions of Svalbard will be back – and probably even stranger – next year.

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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Trashed! The ‘rubbish hut’ is no more – although its frame and cabin may be recycled

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Read Time:3 Minute, 45 Second

The rubbish hut has gone to trash heaven – but its disciples may find comfort in knowing there is the possibility of an afterlife.

The small hut, made of trash collected from the north shores of Spitsbergen, was stripped down to its teepee-like wood pole frame and its elevator-size cabin on Friday, said Solveig Egeland, who designed and helped build the cabin in August of 2014. Removing the colorful – and climbable – assortment of debris such as fishing nets, plastic trawl balls and ropes ends the hut’s 14-month history controversy, quirks and ultimate triumph.

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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Rant: Somebody saw a spaceship and alien beings in Longyearbyen. Somebody else assumed we’d be the newspaper that would jump on the story. So we did.

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Read Time:2 Minute, 29 Second

Once again we’ve lived up to our reputation for being THE source of trashy journalism in Svalbard.

An Englishman known as “Dewsburyman” told the world Saturday he’d seen “evidence of alien beings” in Longyearbyen on Saturday in the form of a photo from the webcam at The University Centre in Svalbard showing what appeared to be “a spaceship (green with gold top) parked by the water’s edge.”

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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Taking out the trash: Rubbish hut coming down ‘soon’ despite pleas from former haters of art project

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Read Time:2 Minute, 15 Second

It took a long time for skeptics to be grow fond of a pile of trash on the beach. But now they can’t talk its creator out of removing it.

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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