paste! good times. get a bus ticket. they have porch foot lepers and many, many giraffes_from_delphi 011119
paste! --hapsslj daily bizarre 4/4/02--

by Shitz Allocator

apart from the wax disease, everybody opens up the streets, considers an element of au jus for your feet. people say you're rude. but while the oval tray has its own concerns, the many unlicensed hams have deftly become a parade for the masses and the circling sparrows. it's gone on like this for a week and we're confined to our homes, plucking the nonprofit_amoebas out of the chowder and demanding back the shots and laces and woodstains from the walnut_gods. but nobody listens. there are stroganoff fans all over the world. this is terrible. it's finally come down to the bicyclists crashing into the huddling lumberjacks and there is no gauze. about 30 people are justifying their right to be evaporated. they really hit the head on the hammer or something.
paste! 10/3/1839

there were thousands of savages shoulder to shoulder on main street and they were all simultaneously unfolding prepackaged moist towelettes.
paste! hapsslj daily bizarre 10/17/2012

single-handedly, all 400 of the trained dolphins became one prune, which was subsequently eaten by an old man holding up a sign that simply said "I'M CONSTIPATED." police have no suspects other than a 6'4 waterproof match.
tonya there were strange goings on at the soy_nose mill. Haplo was kloot, but only briefly. 020709
good people 1234123412464574585689896-0/537616/ixnoy

chapter twelve: conquering the fat

there is no reason to panic. the turtle problem has been attended to. but as the antelopes further bury themselves, $4.37 for a burger. the swamps are twisting into themselves. and you all know what this means... yes, pogostick time. all who arent on the table will be shot and sodomized on location. if all lower extremeties are not removed, the hat and the bulldozer will be projected unto the diseases. carcinogen.
paste! hapsslj daily bizarre

yesterdays rainstorm couldn't halt "the stomping of seventeen", an annual banquet held between the force fields of the main library, now sucked into a 44-ounce cup, and the rabid caramello substitute (it's not caramel!) which continues to petition the wrongs of improper gas hose costumization and the la transtormer jocasta fund, which broke down last august. despite furious downpours, the force fields remained aligned and the cherished stomping went through all phases as directed and modified and simultaneously enriched by the truest of all of the chief_turbo_gnats in the land, arson sanders. may the future hold dear and let there be ice milk or maybe, basic sandwiches, for you and raaister the polar fascist and his hoodlum, mckenzie the suave. erasers hate plankton! hapsslj has been parsub. the drains are inseparable from the guilt of your misdoings. "you have a license, for tread, untied potato and a drop or two of house. complete your apple honduras," they say, "in the disco next to the shoe." they say? ELASTIC paste!, congratulations on the misanthorpopolymer! this time win:


and a torta
daxle what I wouldn't do for a horfle of hapsslj tortas! 020723
paste! Hapsslj Inquirer
March 19, 1001

A ghost ship pulled into the hapsslj harbor late last night and the cargo was revealed to be four ape skulls packed with bacon and four sets of mismatched crutches. Each crutch was strapped with bumper stickers that told tales of epic proportion. The captain seemed to be locked in a state of oceanic realignment as he kept repeating the phrase "good afternoon, would you care for a saltine?" When the ghost ship left the harbor, the head docksman got on his jet-powered otter and followed it carefully so as not to...

fuck it. i'm tired.

save the potatoes!
paste! Hapsslj weekly news
January 9, 1588

Some land was gained. Some men were lost. Then real war raged over who would gain the rest of the tuna sandwich. Tenfold the amount of men were lost. When the Victor raised the sandwich into the air, there was applause and applesauce and the idea of a disco was thought up and they danced, to the disco ball of the searing sun.
paste! hapsslj monthly conquest
march 14, 2159

there wasn't any light for 70 years until finally, little Boldal the smackRoaTcklale bust through with a lantern for the millions. so many corneas exploded. everyone bled from the eyes for a few hours.
three words letter_to_ebola capri_suns hapsslj 050408
paste! Hapsslj daily bizarre
July 26, 2014

The perimeter was breached again by the mandarin_cockroach_isotopes. The two soldiers on watch were busy playing find me clasp me take me hide me with the keys to the triticale_dungeon. There are several rumors circulating throughout the streets that our sand is disappearing. There's been an update: We are in a sand crisis. Update v.2: We've run out of sand, only hampi knows how, but we've run out of sand.
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