Have You Seen My Squonk?

My Hunting Diary

Day 14

As I stated in my previous entry, the Squonk has been living in the YMCA! I've asked several facility managers about its behavior and they tell me it usually keeps to itself.... He even...wait, Gregor, old boy. Your squonk is a girl. A female. You must get used to saying that. more...

Day 13

I saw it. That's right, I saw it. The squonk. All this time I thought it was a male, and now I'm not so sure. But that's not important. It was right under my very nose, staying at the same YMCA as I! more...

Day 10

So weak. Growing delusional. Can...only...write...in...two...word...sentences...or...phrases...with...lots...of...dot...thingies...after...them. I think. They're called. Ellipseez. Or something. Like that. Pen...is...shaky...need...some...meat...more...

Day 9

So hungry...I've been hiding out at a place called the YMCA for weeks. A man named Boris split half a sandwich with me. Every now and then they give us some soup, which is nice. I fear that Chester and his cronies are still close by. more...

Day 7 (but an account of day 6 ½)

And now for my tale of woe...

There I was, basking in the glory of my newfound hunting ground. Although I had still seen no signs of my beloved squonk, my waged war against the aliens was going quite nicely... more...

Day 6

O cursed day! A tragedy struck me while hunting. Felicity is dead! more...

Day 5
I've done it! I've finally succeeded in scouting out a suitable hunting ground! After all of my weekend mishaps, I decided to take my hunt for the squonk south... more...

Day 4
I took a much needed break this weekend from hunting our little warted friend. I rarely get to leave Pennsylvania, so I thought it would be a good time to explore Chicago... more...

Day 2
Muskrat. A haiku.

Muskrat
The Christmas werewolf
What gives the muskrat his musk?
Does a muskrat have a musk?
Musk.
The scent.
His scent is musky.
The musky scent of a muskrat.
A rat with a musk... more...

Day 1
Hello, everyone. My name is Gregor. I'm a hunter. And I love animals. Now people always ask me "hey, Gregor, how's it going?" And I tell them "pretty good," unless I'm having a bad day, in which I'll say "pretty good but not as good as usual," to which they'll say "that's nice." And then…um…well the point is... more...

Have you seen my squonk? Where?