The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Day 43

If I look concerned, that's because I AM!

Managed some exploring early this morning while the giants slept. I thought I should document some of the creatures of this strange land. I don't know what to make of them. I really don't.

It's on a stick! An animal's head on a stick! I don't care if it IS some sort of native custom, that's just sick.

I don't even know where to begin with this one. Why is its nose the same color as its hair? It's really well-dressed, I'll give it that.

The gray one moves occasionally and doesn't seem to like me. The green one? Scares the beegeebers out of me. Look at those eyes!

I kinda like this one. I have no idea why.

I don't know. I don't WANT to know. I just want someone to get it to leave!

These guys hang out with me in my sleeping quarters. I thought they were my fellow explorers at first. But they haven't moved in six weeks, so I'm afraid they are my ex-explorers. They sure are cuddly, however.

This one stands in the corner by himself. I think he did something really, really bad. That yellow ribbon probably means something.

That's it for now. I'll try to get some pictures of the giants one of these days.

The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Day 42 (or is it 43?)

Like I said, I don't know how to count. I do know it's been six weeks since people started shining bright lights in my face.

They took me to ANOTHER one of those events with whistles last night, this one even longer than the first. I recognized some of the littler giants trying not to get hit by the ball. They were wearing the same clothes. But some of them were either wearing different clothes or were different littler giants. There was also some gawdawful horn that they didn't have last time. I had to have my diaper changed after it went off the first time.

Geebers.

I took a trip today and saw a whole bunch of new giants. I like these trips, generally. Unless I get hungry and they just leave me in the back of the ship to howl and howl and howl. Do they stop? Hell, no. I need to find a new way to communicate with these monsters. Wish I could get my hands on a pointy stick. That'd do the job.

I have decided to escape from my captors at my earliest opportunity. It hasn't been a totally unpleasant captivity -- there's that stuff the nice giant feeds me, for instance, and some pretty cute outfits, if I do say so myself -- but prison is prison. Am I a person or a pet? THAT is the question.

Anyhow, I've been squirreling away odds and ends that I can get my hands on, in case I can use them in my breakout. So far, I have two nooks, a clean diaper, a rattling thing, and a hammer. Let me tell you, finding that hammer was a stroke of good fortune.

Me. With three of the littler giants. The one in the middle is the one at the whistling event. It got hit several times. I almost felt sorry for it. Almost.

The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Day 42

One of the giants told me a bizarre story today. I'm writing this from memory, so I may not have it exactly right. I'm guessing it's one of their myths, but what do I know? Could be true. You be the judge.

So there's these five creatures. I think it called them "pwiggies". It starts with one of these "pwiggies" going to a store. The giant didn't tell me what this "pwiggie" did at the store, or whether it bought anything neat. All I know is that it went. And that someone thought this fact was somehow significant.

The next "pwiggie" didn't get to go. I'm guessing there were hard feelings about this, but, again, the details are scarce. Don't know what it did instead. Don't know if it was being punished. Don't know ANYTHING!

You know, now that I'm retelling it, this is a really stupid story, isn't it?

Anyhow, there were five of these "pwiggies", so I'm not stopping with the second one. The third "pwiggie" had some sort of meat dish, I forget what. The giant -- of course -- didn't tell me if this one ate it at home or at the store. I'm guessing it was at the store, since there's no mention of meat for the second "pwiggie."

The fourth "pwiggie" was as unlucky as the second "pwiggie." There was no meat for it either. They clearly spell this out. It had NONE. We can only hope that it at least was able to go to the store with the others, even if it was forced to watch the third "pwiggie" eat something really good. It would totally suck if it had to stay home with the second "pwiggie" AND not get the snack. Besides, why have two characters in the same story doing THE EXACT SAME THING?!

OK. But here's the bizarre part. The fifth "pwiggie", who DID get to go to the store, where it may or may not have had some meat, went "Weeweeweeweeweewee" all the way back to their house. Why, you ask? Exactly! Is there an explanation for this behavior? Is it "pwiggie-speak" for something? Is it, in fact, the entire POINT OF THE STUPID STORY!?

Apparently, I'll never know. The giant just laughs and tickles me when it gets to this point. And the big galoot seems to be expecting some response from me. What am I supposed to say? "Oh, wow! Tell me that one again! I just can't get enough of pointless anecdotes!"? No. I won't give it the satisfaction.

These clowns are wasting my time, I tell you.

Explain this to me, by the way. I'm telling you, they're messing with me. And I'm tired of it. I'm supposed to be on an Arctic Adventure, dammit! (Pardon the French.)

The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Day howthehelldoIknow?

It's like Day 39 or so. I've lost track and I can't count anyhow.

The big news here is that I've had three bottles in the past couple of weeks. I don't know what was in them, but it seemed like the same stuff I get from one of the giants. The nice one. The one that gives me that stuff.

I'm also told that I am now wearing a Size 1 diaper. Apparently the ones I was wearing previously had no size. I find that demeaning. The giants are always telling me how small I am. Well, guess what? THEY ARE HIDEOUSLY LARGE!!

What else? I went to some sort of event tonight with whistles. It was annoying. A bunch of the littler giants were trying not to keep a ball in the air. At least, I think that's what they were doing. It went on forever! I think I had my diaper changed twice and the nice giant let me have some of that stuff. Not in a bottle stuff.

Blasted hot again today. And breezy. The two giants that are around the most put me in that wheeled contraption and rolled me around. It was OK except when that bright light was in my eyes. That was just the pits. Thing's hot too.

That's about it. The Pole is a distant memory now. An illusion. A stupid joke, I think. I will have my revenge!

But first I need to sleep. Maybe after a snack.

Oh, there was this, too. They dipped me into some ice cold liquid! The bastards!

The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Day 28

Yesterday, the giants put me in that rolling contraption and took me to some odd place. I was sleeping at the time, so I don't know far it was or how long it took, but when I woke up I was in the middle of scores of giants. It was noisy and smelly and hot -- and the giants were pretty hideous, let me tell you. I went back to sleep. After a quick snack.

Not much else to report. To tell you the truth, I'm still not sure what's going on. Some nights, I just lie awake and howl. The giants come running and I usually get something to eat and a new diaper. So that's nice. But it doesn't explain diddly-squat.

The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Day 17

I have to admit I haven't much felt like writing. This weekend, my worst suspicions were confirmed. I am not an Arctic explorer. I am not even an explorer. I'm a baby.

What sort of creatures would perpetrate such a diabolical deception on an infant? The same sort of creatures who would dangle these above my head and expect me to believe they were actually polar bears.

I cannot begin to tell you how disappointed I am in this turn of events. In just three short days, I went from a Life of Adventure to lying around in something they call a sleeper bag, basically a sack with a zipper. It's cozy. I'll give you that. But it's humiliating.

The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Day 14

I am beginning to suspect that this whole expedition is a cruel hoax, hatched by these giants who come and go as they please.

Let's consider the facts:

1) My "gear", as far as I can tell, consists of this knit cap. Where are my skis? My snowsuit? My mittens? My boots, fercryinoutloud?!
2) It's really not very cold. I mean, there's a nice breeze and sometimes I do need an extra blankie, but it's not exactly Arctic.
3) Where are my compatriots? I vaguely recall a few from the first few days -- and what a racket they'd make! -- but there's been no one but me for the last week or so. Except for those giants.
4) Shouldn't I have a map?

Anyhow. The Pole, needless to say, remains elusive -- or, as I now suspect, totally fictional. Snacks, at least, appear to be served when I want them. So I have that going for me.

The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Arctic Explorer

Day 12. The third day of this blasted storm has set us seriously behind schedule and cut heavily into our supplies. Already, we have had to cut back on diapers. Lord knows what we will do should this blizzard continue.

Nevertheless, our spirits remain high. Is there any nobler purpose than exploring, testing the limits of one's endurance, wearing the Fatherland's onesie in that pursuit? No, there isn't.

I do have one complaint. We expressly ordered Bouncy Seats for this trek and some clown sent us these "Aquarium Take-Along-Swings" instead, complete with flashing lights and lullabies. I ask you, could we have been given anything more impractical?

That's about it for today. I'm going to nap a bit, then have myself a snack, probably nap some more, have another snack, nap after that.