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Posts tagged as “Santa”

Wigging out: Boaty McBoatface, Aquaman, Pokémon among the stars in Svalbard’s ten strangest stories of 2016

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Read Time:10 Minute, 37 Second

A travesty of an election that ignored the will of the people. A political ad where an innocent little girl was obliterated by a weapon of mass destruction. Battling alien invaders, yet again. Nuclear armageddon, yet again.

When it came to the ways we were weird, 2016 made Svalbard great again. Bigly.

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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Briefs from Svalbardposten for the week of Jan. 3, 2017

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Read Time:1 Minute, 48 Second

Small tykes ask for big things from Santa in their letters
“I want to be a billionaire. and my own telephone.” Such were the requests from kids mailing letters to Santa this year using his custom mailbox at the foot of Mine 2B. Other requests included everything from dogs, to servents to machine guns to yachts.

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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Pick the ‘fake news’ headline: 1) Scientists discover energy source of Rudolph’s nose; 2) Trump wants to starve Santa’s reindeer

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Read Time:3 Minute, 3 Second

Rudolph has a wonderful nose. An ingenious nose. Amazing ability. Tremendous energy. And brilliantly red.

If that sounds like praise from a certain orange-hued megalomaniac, consider this other shocking exposé: “Trump wants to starve Santa’s reindeer. Why, they are barely able to pull all that weight now! Who knows what will happen if all the funding flowing to scientists and universities for global warming is cut? Might have to cancel Christmas!”

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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Random weirdness for the week of Nov. 13, 2016

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Read Time:2 Minute, 13 Second

Plenty of folks have suggested Svalbard as an ideal destination for U.S. residents wanting to flee instead of being ruled by The Don, but at least one person is asking Santa to give the gift of a much simpler solution – albeit one that may have people here wishing for a wall.

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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Light Christmas: These traditional celebrations will offer chilly comfort to offset the darkness

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Read Time:2 Minute, 32 Second

Considering the past year has had perhaps a few too many surprises – and two other major commemorations this month have darker notes – perhaps it’s a good thing this year’s beginning of Christmas season celebration on Sunday didn’t hold any surprises.

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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Seriously postal: ‘World’s largest Santa’s mailbox’ gives creator a gigantic challenge

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Read Time:1 Minute, 36 Second

It’s said Santa needs to travel 11 million km/h to deliver his gifts, assuming no bathroom breaks or pauses to eat all those cookies. There doesn’t seem to be a corresponding thesis for how long it takes him to read all the letters to him, but Po Lin Lee might qualify as at least for fill-in duty should the jolly old elf be waylaid by a traffic cop or too much cholesterol.

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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‘I’ve been good’ – Santa’s workshop gets usual requests, along with a few special orders such as a hamster from Syria

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Read Time:2 Minute, 30 Second

A red balloon. Legos. Star Wars gadgets. A Playstation 4. A Ferrari.

A typical range of innocent to exorbitant wish list items, including some that conveniently overlap (“Lego Star Wars” for Playstation). Along with under-the-tree presents that are normal here but in few other places like sleds designed to be towed by snowmobiles.

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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