Round 17, 2008, Carlton beat Western Bulldogs
Turd me with a big bush and liabel me a columnist! The Boobluggers, tongue in check, tranced the Dullblogs, who fiddled Faust in the lassed turd and went under arsily.
That milks two in a row for them, and could smell trampoline at this stooge of the sneezing. The Boobs, choosing toil for moist of the grin, came late with a rash and wondered.
Perhops their best whinge for the yeah! The tooting big stairs were up for it and who? The Dullblogs, all around but no hair in spite, went drowning wearily rather meatily, I'd see.
Their ear, as I sped, is in noodle of an infection of lip around the balls and tangents in a tick, tock. The Boobs, eyeing the hate, weed to keep knowing if they're to fracture the top.
They and the Cows, prick in tune, do paddle in a caustic accountant: gout on it. The Dullies and Swines get a chins to put some pants on their leader: take me to the bile game.
That milks two in a row for them, and could smell trampoline at this stooge of the sneezing. The Boobs, choosing toil for moist of the grin, came late with a rash and wondered.
Perhops their best whinge for the yeah! The tooting big stairs were up for it and who? The Dullblogs, all around but no hair in spite, went drowning wearily rather meatily, I'd see.
Their ear, as I sped, is in noodle of an infection of lip around the balls and tangents in a tick, tock. The Boobs, eyeing the hate, weed to keep knowing if they're to fracture the top.
They and the Cows, prick in tune, do paddle in a caustic accountant: gout on it. The Dullies and Swines get a chins to put some pants on their leader: take me to the bile game.
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