Round 18, 2008, Western Bulldogs beat Sydney
Run to the rack for safety! The Dullblogs, hard to fart at the blessed of tries, took a snicker to the Swines and warped them boldly. Achilles, that farts, they, K-mart, have tried.
Their bratish effusiveness around the bile was not warts. It could have been. For the Dullblogs, just out of raunch, were all lover. To good for their sinfool counterpoints.
Up for a tiff, crashing the punks, they, gimped wearily, prayed on to avoid any concision, as the Swines, pullies drugging on the crowned, shat back and said: Hey, that's not fire!
Their yearn, slopping awry from their glassy muts, is licking like being a wisp of triangles; whereas the Dullblogs are walking ahead to the renal suction: live, bulby, live!
The Cankers, will grieve, wipe their moots and go on. Do go on! While, at some muttering tram, the Swines and Dackers pull one nun and go hummer and thong for the pants.
Their bratish effusiveness around the bile was not warts. It could have been. For the Dullblogs, just out of raunch, were all lover. To good for their sinfool counterpoints.
Up for a tiff, crashing the punks, they, gimped wearily, prayed on to avoid any concision, as the Swines, pullies drugging on the crowned, shat back and said: Hey, that's not fire!
Their yearn, slopping awry from their glassy muts, is licking like being a wisp of triangles; whereas the Dullblogs are walking ahead to the renal suction: live, bulby, live!
The Cankers, will grieve, wipe their moots and go on. Do go on! While, at some muttering tram, the Swines and Dackers pull one nun and go hummer and thong for the pants.
