Tag: The Long Dark

Day One Diary Customloper Drops – Tomorrow

The Day One Diary of Customloper is coming—and no, I didn’t freeze to death immediately.
Spawned in with Interloper-level weather and a backpack full of questionable decisions.
There were snacks. There were was lots of snow. There was looting in the dark like a confused burglar. Find out what happens tomorrow at 1pm GMT.

For information on what Customloper is, read here: The Long Dark Customloper Settings: Easier Interloper Survival Mode

Catch up with my other Day One Diaries here: Day One Diaries

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The Doedicurus Incident: How I Lost a Fight I Didn’t Know I Was Starting

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Day 1 of ARK: Scorched Earth. I spawned, made some pants, and was murdered by what I thought was a friendly armoured pet rock. A true story of betrayal, bad aim, and Doedicurus rage.

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Welcome to the Desert. Here’s a Spear. Try Not To Die.

I woke up in the Scorched Earth desert with nothing but my fists and the overwhelming sense that everything around me wanted me dead.

Naturally, I punched a tree, made a pickaxe, and crafted myself a stunning outfit made entirely of itchy rags. Survival 101.

That’s when I saw it: a Doedicurus.
Round, slow-moving, and with the kind of face that said, “I mind my business.” It was adorable. I felt safe.

This would be my desert buddy. My spiky little friend.
I had plans. Big plans. I was going to tame it. Name it. Maybe ride it into battle.

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Then I Threw a Spear at It.

Now… in my defense, I meant to throw the spear next to the Doedicurus.
You know, to test it. Impress it. Establish dominance. Whatever people do in survival games.

What I didn’t mean to do was poke it directly in the face.

Cue a noise I didn’t know Doedicuruses could make.
Cue it rolling toward me like an angry bowling ball with revenge issues.

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The Fight That Wasn’t.

I panicked.
I had one more spear. I missed.
I pulled out my fists. They were… less effective.

The Doedicurus did not miss. It swung its tail like it was trying to launch me into the next biome.
It succeeded.

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Respawn, Reflect, Regret.

As I stared at the “You Died” screen, one thought ran through my head:
What the hell just happened?

I came here to survive.
I left wearing nothing but shame and a crushed dream of dinosaur friendship.


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Final Thoughts

Let it be known: Doedicuruses are not your friends.
They are boulders with feelings. And those feelings are rage.

Next time, I’m taming a Jerboa. At least they don’t roll over you for sport.

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Got a favourite chaotic moment?

Let me know in the comments or tag me on social—I’m always looking for new disasters to celebrate.
And if you enjoy these shorts, consider sharing the page with a fellow survivor.
Because nothing says “friendship” like a moose silently judging you from behind a tree.

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If you enjoyed that one, please check out my other stories here: Survivor’s Shorts

Also, please check out the full tale of my first day in ARK: Scorched Earth here: Day 1 Diary – ARK: Scorched Earth: Heat, Hubris & A Doedicurus

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Here’s What’s Coming This Week – From Dodos to Doedicurus and Deep Space

This week at Survivor Incognito: dino disasters, cosmic chaos, a return to Customloper, and two new Survivor’s Shorts. Here’s the full lineup of what’s dropping and when.

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Monday – A Double Hit to Start the Week

Day One Diary: No Man’s Sky
Cold planet, no scanner, and a plant that bit me. Welcome to Zuwan 58/E6.

Survivor’s Short: The Doedicurus Incident
One spear. One armadillo. Zero survivors. The best (worst?) five seconds of ARK you’ll ever read.

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Wednesday – Into the Cold

Day One Diary: The Long Dark – Customloper
Coastal Highway just got colder. My custom difficulty is set to “help is a myth” — and this diary is where it begins. This is a taster of what is to come next week

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Thursday – Skyrim Survives Another Day

Skyrim Survival – Day Five
My Argonian’s back, colder than ever, and probably regretting their life choices again. Expect sneaking, sniping, and the occasional panic shout.

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Friday – Frostbite & Fur

The Long Dark – New Entry in A Voyageur’s Tale
The Cold Chronicles continue with more frostbite, slightly less dignity, and whatever’s left in my food stash.

Survivor’s Short: The Moose Encounter
He saw me. I saw him. Only one of us had antlers — and it wasn’t me.

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Plus: This Site Just Got A Bit Update

All entries for The Long Dark, Skyrim, and Day One Diaries have been turned into full posts (not pages!) so they’re easier to find, share, and follow.

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Thanks for Reading – And Surviving

Bookmark the blog, subscribe if you haven’t, and remember: in survival gaming, it’s not about thriving — it’s about laughing while everything falls apart.

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The Cold Chronicles Day 4: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 4: Into the Wind and the Wolves – Coastal Highway or Bust

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because I enjoy living dangerously)

Day 3 Recap

Read Day 3 here — yesterday I dodged a moose, found a glorious hatchet in Abandoned Mine No. 3, cooked up some deer and rabbit in Crumbling Highway, and narrowly avoided becoming wolf dinner. Today’s goal: finally reach Coastal Highway and set up a proper base.

Leaving Crumbling Highway

I began the day by tucking my curing hides and guts into a safe indoor corner — because nothing says “responsible adult” like organising future clothing projects before breakfast. Torch lit, I stepped outside, and immediately, the welcoming committee arrived: a wolf trailing me at a polite-but-menacing distance.

It shadowed me for a good minute or two before deciding I wasn’t worth the effort. I imagine it muttered something about “stringy meat” and trotted off into the snow. Either way, my pulse was already higher than my body temperature.

After a short uphill slog, the crumbling asphalt gave way to the open expanse of Coastal Highway. “Civilisation” was in sight — if you consider a scattering of abandoned houses and frozen fishing huts to be civilisation. In The Long Dark, that’s practically a metropolis.

Early Loot and Missed Opportunities

Coastal Highway Map

My first pit stop was a parked car. Inside: a memento hint for loot hidden somewhere in the region. Handy — though I also remembered I’d picked one up back in Desolation Point and promptly never followed it. Future me is going to love that surprise.

Further along, a deer carcass lay half-buried in snow. Tempting, but the blizzard winds convinced me my fingers were better kept intact. Instead, I marked the spot with charcoal — like an explorer, but hungrier.

The Road to Quonset Garage

I worked my way through a cluster of houses, stuffing my pack with food, matches, and clothing. My boots squelched faintly with each step, the wind pushing hard enough to make my footprints vanish behind me.

Halfway to my target, I stumbled upon another deer carcass. I tried to light a fire to harvest it, but the weather refused to cooperate. No fire, no meat — just a reminder that sometimes, The Long Dark makes the rules, and they’re not negotiable.

Then came the wildlife parade: a bear to my left, wolves to my right, and the wind doing its best to push me back to Crumbling Highway like an overprotective parent. My torch flickered in the gale, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure who would win — me, the predators, or the weather.

Quonset Garage: Loot Heaven

When Quonset Garage finally came into view, it was like spotting an oasis in the desert. Inside: shelves groaning with food, a bed, an indoor fire barrel, tools for every occasion — and, inexplicably, two prybars. Why two? No idea. But I took them. When survival hands you a prybar, you don’t ask questions.

After a quick loot run around the parking lot, I found a third prybar in a nearby car. That’s three. I had officially cornered the prybar market. In a barter-based apocalypse, I was now the regional supplier.

Camp Office Sweep

Not content with my haul, I made a detour to the Camp Office. It paid off: another storm lantern, more food than I could carry comfortably, and clothing upgrades that made me feel less like “desperate wanderer” and more like “fashion-conscious hermit.”

By the time I waddled back to Quonset, I was carrying 50kg of loot. Every step felt like hauling a small moose on my back, but the thought of my growing stash kept me going.

End-of-Day Luxury

Back at Quonset, I dumped my loot into organised piles — food here, flares there, fuel in the corner, and coats stacked like I was opening a thrift store. I lit a fire, boiled water, cooked a hot dinner, and settled into bed with the smug satisfaction of someone who knows they’re not going to starve tomorrow.

Plans for Day 5

  • Harvest both deer carcasses with fire in hand
  • Try fishing if the weather plays nice
  • Maybe — just maybe — find a proper weapon so I can stop relying on my stern glare to keep wolves away
Continue the journey:
Previous: Day 3  | 
Next: Day 5

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The Cold Chronicles Day 3: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 3: Gut Decisions in Crumbling Highway

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because I enjoy living dangerously)

Day 2 Recap

Read Day 2 here — the short version? I wandered Desolation Point chasing matches, looted the Riken, threw a torch at my first wolf (and it worked!), and finally scored a full box of matches from a glovebox. Tomorrow’s goal: find Coastal Highway. Simple, right?

Morning Plans and Rabbit Runs

They say fortune favours the bold. I say fortune clearly didn’t factor in moose. Today’s plan was simple: head to the mine in Desolation Point and hopefully find something sharp, pointy, or otherwise capable of convincing wildlife to leave me alone.

On the way, I spotted a couple of rabbits. One bolted like I owed it money, but the second caught a well-aimed stone to the noggin. Dinner sorted.

The Bridge Standoff

Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I pressed on — until I heard the low, echoing howl of a wolf somewhere nearby. Torch lit, I marched on with all the fake confidence I could muster. That’s when I saw it: the bridge to the mine… and the moose blocking the way.

He’s Just Standing There Menacingly!

I’ve heard the stories. I’ve seen the clips. One charge and that thing could turn my survival diary into a cautionary tale. I executed a tactical retreat to the church and consoled myself with some warm peaches.

The Safer Detour

That’s when I remembered: there’s another mine that leads to Crumbling Highway — the actual route to Coastal Highway. Longer walk, but blissfully moose-free. That’s a win in my book.

Abandoned Mine No. 3 Map

Inside, things were looking up: a lantern (finally, real light!), more matches, a healthy stack of coal, and best of all — a glorious, rusty but fully functional hatchet. I nearly wept. Finally, a tool I could use on wood, carcasses, or anything foolish enough to cross me.

Into the Crumbling Highway

Crumbling Highway Map

I emerged into Crumbling Highway and looted a nearby car — jackpot, more matches. The game was either feeling generous or setting me up for something terrible.

Birds circled in the distance, and experience told me that meant free meat. I found a deer carcass alongside a rabbit one, made a fire, tossed on some coal, and cooked up my finds. That’s when the wolves arrived.

Torch Trouble

Torch in hand, I hurled it at them like a dramatic warning shot… and they didn’t even flinch. Either these wolves were seasoned veterans, or my throw lacked gravitas. With panic rising, I did what any brave survivor would: sprinted to the nearest car and slammed the door like it was base in a childhood game of tag.

Basement Refuge and Hide Work

From the car, I spotted a cluster of abandoned buildings. Spooky, yes, but one had a basement. I dashed for it, dove inside, and finally found some peace. While holed up, I harvested spare clothes — accidentally shredding the socks I was wearing — and dropped my hides and guts for curing. Fancy, I know.

Tomorrow, the plan is simple: reach Coastal Highway. Hopefully with fewer moose and more matches.

Day 3 Pro Tips (Switch Edition)

  • Moose will ruin your day — avoid if possible
  • Alternate mines can bypass dangerous wildlife
  • Coal is great for long-lasting fires
  • Always keep a basement or vehicle escape route in mind
Continue the journey:
Previous: Day 2  | 
Next: Day 4

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The Cold Chronicles Day 2: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 2: Wolves, Mines, and Questionable Life Choices

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because I enjoy living dangerously)

Day 1 Recap

Read Day 1 here if you missed it — the short version? Dropped into Desolation Point with nothing but the clothes on my back, made it to the lighthouse without being eaten, looted like a raccoon in a campsite, and committed my first rabbit-related crimes. Two bunnies down, a stomach full of cooked meat, and a warm(ish) bed to end the day.

Match Quest: The Early Hours

Day 2 began with a clear goal and absolutely no plan: find matches. They’re the sacred spark sticks of survival, and I was running low. The Processing Plant seemed like a solid bet — a big building, lots of corners, and surely a drawer or two with something useful.

Then I opened the lighthouse door and got my first real look at the day’s weather: howling wind and sideways snow. The kind of blizzard that whispers, “You could stay inside.” I, naturally, ignored it.

Loot Tour: Trailers and Processing Plant

First stop: the nearby trailers. They’re warm-up loot spots in more ways than one. I found food and extra clothes — which is always good — but still no matches. My hands were as matchless as my confidence was misplaced.

On to the main event: the Processing Plant. I approached with the cautious optimism of someone opening a mystery box. Inside: more food, more clothes, but no fire-starting salvation. If the apocalypse had a fashion week, I’d be ready to walk the runway, but actual fire? Not today.

Ship of Dreams (and Disappointments)

Not ready to give up, I headed for the Riken — the frozen ship that looks like it’s been halfway through sinking for years. It didn’t have my matches, but it did cough up an insulated flask. Now I could drink warm coffee in style — assuming I ever managed to heat any.

Does This Come In Other Colours?

The Torch Throw Heard ’Round the Lighthouse

Back at the lighthouse, I made a fire with my dwindling supply of matches (eleven left), boiled water, brewed coffee, and sat sipping it like the Arctic’s most underpaid barista. But I needed a bigger plan — Coastal Highway beckoned.

I grabbed my curing rabbit hide and gut (never leave home without them!) and set out. That’s when I realised I had absolutely no idea which direction to go. To make things worse, my 24-hour wolf-free grace period had expired.

One appeared out of the snow. I panicked. I threw my torch at it. By some miracle, it worked — the wolf bolted, and I stood there triumphant, heart pounding like a drum solo.

Match Jackpot

I ducked into a nearby car to regroup, mostly to breathe. Inside the glovebox, the game rewarded me for my bravery (or blind luck): a full box of matches. It felt like winning the lottery — if the lottery was cold, damp, and came with wolves.

I returned to the lighthouse with a new plan, new matches, and a healthy respect for panic-based problem-solving. Tomorrow? I find that highway. Or at least walk in a straight line until it feels like I do.

Day 2 Pro Tips (Switch Edition)

  • Matches are life — always keep a reserve
  • Trailers are great early loot stops
  • Torch-throwing is surprisingly effective on wolves
  • Don’t assume you know where you’re going — check the map
Continue the journey:
Previous: Day 1  | 
Next: Day 3

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The Cold Chronicles Day 1: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 1: Welcome to the Chill (Desolation Point)

Difficulty: Voyageur

Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because I enjoy living dangerously)

“I wake up alone, confused, and somehow end up in a whale carcass. Just another day in The Long Dark.”

Spawning into The Long Dark feels like Mother Nature herself just shoved me outside with a cheerful, “Good luck!” There’s no gentle tutorial, no welcome pack, no coat — just cold wind, a couple of sticks, and the creeping realisation that frostbite is now my most pressing life goal to avoid.

This particular run began near the lighthouse in Desolation Point — probably the closest thing this game has to beachfront property, if your idea of a beach holiday involves gale-force winds and the occasional wolf. It was midday, overcast, and just cold enough to make me doubt every decision I’d made leading up to this moment.

Somewhere in the distance, the ocean groaned against the ice, and a few crows circled lazily overhead. I told myself they were here for the whale carcass. I told myself that twice, just to make sure I believed it.

First Rule: Pick Up Everything

See Desolation Point map here – because wandering aimlessly is only fun once.

On Switch, that’s A to interact — and you’ll be pressing it constantly. Sticks? Yes. Reclaimed wood? Yes. Half-frozen soda can? Absolutely mine. My inventory began filling up within minutes, but better to carry too much than freeze wishing I’d grabbed it.

I moved towards the lighthouse in a series of small scavenging detours — each one slightly off-course, like a squirrel preparing for winter if squirrels were freezing, underdressed, and hopelessly lost. The wind bit through my hoodie, and my character’s condition meter reminded me that warmth here is fleeting and entirely negotiable.

Looting the Lighthouse

Inside, the loot gods were moderately kind:

  • Tinned food (salvation in aluminium form)
  • Spare clothing (anything warmer than a hoodie is a win)
  • A can opener (early-game gold — cold beans are tragic enough without mangling the can first)

After layering up (+ button → Inventory → Clothing tab), I felt just warm enough to consider venturing further. My eyes fell on the church across the frozen inlet. Between me and it: snow, rocks, and the vague promise of more loot. Naturally, I went for it.

Along the way, I pocketed every rock I saw — because in this game, you can weaponise geology, and that seemed like an excellent life skill to have.

Rabbit Wrangling 101

It wasn’t long before I spotted movement: rabbits. My new rocks had a purpose.

On Switch:

  • Hold ZR to aim a rock
  • Lead slightly ahead of a running rabbit
  • Release ZR to throw

Stunned isn’t dead — you need to act fast (Hold A) or it will recover and make a mockery of your hunting skills. My first throw missed by what I can only call “a country mile,” but the second was a clean hit. Two rabbits down in total, though not before missing enough shots to start wondering if my character secretly had a lazy eye.

The church, however, was a let-down: no tools, no matches, no hidden stash of snacks. Just me, the wind, and two confused-looking rabbits now stored in my pack. Back to the lighthouse it was.

Nightfall in the Lighthouse

Once back inside, I used the Y radial menu to start a fire near the stove. Reclaimed wood, accelerant, crossed fingers — success. Rabbit meat went on the fire (A to place), water boiled in a recycled can, and torches pulled from the flames became my portable light source for later.

The wind outside howled like it was auditioning for a horror soundtrack, but inside, I was warm, hydrated, and in possession of two fine torches. I ate rabbit for dinner while staring out the lighthouse window at the darkened coastline, wondering how many nights I’d last this time.

I didn’t find matches or a weapon, but I hadn’t frozen, starved, or been eaten — which in The Long Dark is as close to a textbook victory as you can get.

Day 1 Pro Tips (Switch Edition)

  • A: Pick up everything
  • ZR: Aim rocks/weapons
  • Y: Radial menu
  • +: Inventory, clothing, crafting
  • Don’t leave stunned rabbits lying — they recover fast
  • Fire is life — keep matches handy
  • Frozen soda is still drinkable — don’t be picky

Continue the journey:
Day 1 (You Are Here)  | 
Day 2

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Day 1 Diary – The Long Dark – Frozen Fails: The Day The Ice Got Me

I launched The Long Dark on Voyageur difficulty with the confidence of someone who had watched exactly one survival documentary and thought, “Yeah, I’ve got this.” I didn’t. Not even a little.

Editor’s note: This entry recounts my first-ever time playing The Long Dark, years before I established the permadeath rules for current runs. Everything that happened was real, just with less structure (and more falling into lakes).

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Step One: Make It Harder Than It Needs to Be

The game practically begged me to start in Mystery Lake or Mountain Town. But I wanted an adventure. So, I hit “Random.” I figured, why not spice things up? Worst-case scenario, I get eaten by a wolf. That would’ve been merciful.

Instead, I was dropped into Bleak Inlet—also known as “You Shouldn’t Be Here Yet Bay.” Picture a desolate, wind-scoured wasteland where the trees are tired, the wolves are angry, and the weather is doing its best impression of a meat freezer. I had no map, no shelter, and no clue where I was. Perfect.

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Step Two: Get Lost Immediately

I wandered for a while, mostly in circles. My grand strategy was “head in a direction and hope it works out.” Spoiler: it didn’t. Snow was blowing sideways. Visibility dropped to “guess and pray.” My temperature gauge wasn’t just falling—it was plummeting like a rock.

Eventually, I stumbled onto a frozen river. Did I consider the structural integrity of that ice? No. Did I remember the game has breakable ice mechanics? Also no. I just thought, “Shortcut!”

Cue sound of cracking.

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Step Three: Fall In. Twice.

I broke through the ice and dropped into freezing water. If you’ve never experienced The Long Dark’s cold mechanics, here’s a summary: get wet, get cold, get dead. I scrambled out, shivering and soaked, thinking I could recover. A rookie mistake. I had no firestarter, no dry clothes, and no shelter.

Then—because I’m nothing if not consistent—I fell in again. Same ice. Same mistake. Same freezing regret.

At this point, hypothermia set in. I couldn’t sprint. My vision blurred. My character audibly groaned in despair, and honestly, same.

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Step Four: Denial and Ruined Shacks

Still clinging to the illusion of survival, I limped along until I found what could generously be called a shack. More accurately, it was a few planks of wood pretending to be a building. No fire barrel. No door. Just wind-chill and a growing sense of dread.

I checked my inventory:

One flare

Some cattail stalks

Clothes so wet they might as well have been lake water

No matches

This was not a survival situation. This was an obituary in progress.

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Bonus Step: Existential Reflection

As I sat there, frostbitten and fully aware I was about to die, I had time to think about my life choices. Mainly:

Why didn’t I bring a torch?

Why didn’t I start in Mystery Lake?

Why does the game hate me?

But mostly: Why did I fall in the same ice twice?

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My First Death, But Not My Last

Eventually, the screen faded to black. Cause of death: hypothermia. Time survived: not long enough to justify the bravado I started with. It wasn’t a glorious end. It wasn’t even a dramatic one. It was just wet, cold failure.

But The Long Dark teaches by punishing. And I learned. Next time, I’d check the map. Next time, I’d respect the ice. And next time, I’d maybe, just maybe, not hit Random.

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Switch Controls (For People Who Prefer Not to Drown)

Move: Left Stick (try not to walk into water)

Run: Hold Right Trigger (don’t sprint blindly across ice)

Inventory: ‘X’ Button (check it before you’re soaking wet)

Interact: ‘A’ Button (essential for picking up supplies you actually need)

Crouch: ‘B’ Button (useful for sneaking… or just giving up quietly)

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Takeaways

Mistake Consequence What to Do Instead

Random spawn in Bleak Inlet Spawned in the worst possible region Choose Mystery Lake or Mountain Town
Walked on thin ice Fell in. Twice. Stick to snow-covered paths
No firestarter Couldn’t dry off, froze to death Always carry matches or a torch
No plan or direction Got lost in a blizzard Learn the map or follow landmarks

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Final Thoughts

The Long Dark doesn’t coddle. It teaches with pain. My first run was a disaster—but a valuable one. If nothing else, I now know that ice is not to be trusted, Bleak Inlet is not your friend, and maybe—just maybe—I should listen when a game says, “Start here.”

And yes, I will absolutely be trying again.

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Read More Day One Diaries Here

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I Was Just Trying to Get Home (And Then This Happened)

What started as a quiet trip back to Grey Mother’s turned into a wolf ambush. Here’s how my Customloper run nearly ended on Day 3.

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Just Me, a Skillet, and Regret

I’d just finished looting Paradise Meadows Farm. I had a fresh rabbit stew in my belly, a skillet in my backpack, and dreams of a cozy night back at Grey Mother’s. You know. Normal stuff.

Then this happened.

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That’s right. No warning. No howls. Just me, walking around a corner like I own the place, and a wolf showing up like he owns the place. Spoiler: he nearly did.

I did what any reasonable person would do—I ran back inside, popped painkillers like trail mix, and bandaged my wrist while re-evaluating all my life choices.

Moral of the story: Never trust Milton to be quiet, and always expect the game to humble you the second you start feeling safe.

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For more tales like this, please check out: Survivor’s Shorts

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Survivor’s Shorts Are Live – Because Chaos Deserves Its Own Page

Survivor’s Shorts is now live! A new page on the blog featuring my funniest, strangest, and most disastrous survival moments—bite-sized stories, full-sized regret.

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Sometimes a moment in a survival game doesn’t need a full playthrough post—it just needs a spotlight, a raised eyebrow, and maybe a bandage.

That’s where Survivor’s Shorts comes in.

It’s a new page on the blog dedicated to the little disasters. The sudden bear charges. The pancake heartbreaks. The moose lurking behind trees. All real stories from my permadeath runs, trimmed down and served with a side of sarcasm.

If you’ve ever screamed when you meant to crouch or felt betrayed by a breakfast item, you’ll feel right at home.

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What You’ll Find There

The Pancake Betrayal – Found the recipe. Found the syrup. Got betrayed by Cooking Level 4.

There is more coming soon. But here is what to expect for ones that are being drafted:

The Wolf That Interrupted My Mapping Session – Cartography meets carnivore.

The Moose Behind the Tree – A 5% spawn rate that showed up at 100% volume.

The Doedicurus That Broke My Spirit – One spear. No hits. Lots of tail.

The One-Shot Wonder – A bear, a rifle, and a moment of absolute panic… that somehow worked.


And plenty more moments coming soon.

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Check it Out Here:

Survivor’s Shorts

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Got a favourite chaotic moment?

Let me know in the comments or tag me on social—I’m always looking for new disasters to celebrate.
And if you enjoy these shorts, consider sharing the page with a fellow survivor.
Because nothing says “friendship” like a moose silently judging you from behind a tree.

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