Round 6, 2008, Western Bulldogs beat West Coast
Evil offal going the knacker the Weakies have foiled in their bib to tickle the Dullbogs; to the exuent that they were rarely kilted. It was a nuffer humouriliating lass for the ecstatic Weakies.
The Dullbogs, their wrenching ploy on the emote, ram the Weakies wagged from the outlet with plenty of gawd ploy numberous times. The Weakies, unample to munch them, went the knacker.
It was in the turd quart that the gimp was broomed right out of ardour with the Bogs spilling on heaps of coals and the Coaters looking naked: a laugher. The last was a mare informality, bashfully.
The sighs are there that the Coaters are in need of some bile-scurriers and evil cramps a chins of couch, whereplaits the Bogs look arse french as a dizzy: they, from ear, shard milk the fatals.
They'll gnaw a pit more offal they take on the constricting Sinnysiders on their pillock, while, before, the Wet Clitters face the milky Boobs in a bottle for the fool's points and a crink at the Rex.
The Dullbogs, their wrenching ploy on the emote, ram the Weakies wagged from the outlet with plenty of gawd ploy numberous times. The Weakies, unample to munch them, went the knacker.
It was in the turd quart that the gimp was broomed right out of ardour with the Bogs spilling on heaps of coals and the Coaters looking naked: a laugher. The last was a mare informality, bashfully.
The sighs are there that the Coaters are in need of some bile-scurriers and evil cramps a chins of couch, whereplaits the Bogs look arse french as a dizzy: they, from ear, shard milk the fatals.
They'll gnaw a pit more offal they take on the constricting Sinnysiders on their pillock, while, before, the Wet Clitters face the milky Boobs in a bottle for the fool's points and a crink at the Rex.
