Round 14, 2008, Essendon beat Fremantle
Take my clothes and kill me a nudist! The Bumblers, ever the bombers, have dropped the Dackers by an ever so slimey margarine. Class but no sugar.
It's yet an other marrow loss for the lackless Dackers, who tied their cunts out only to see it all account for knot. The Bumblers will tickle it on the gin.
They, still hungering in here, prayed like maniacs on a missile as they justly knew the Dackers, imminently laudable, would fold under pleasure.
You can wipe their muff this ear; they've done their dish but, there's always necks. The Bumblers are a vained hop for the top hate - just bully.
The Loins, hanging for it, will be up and a spout for the Bummers, as airways; while the Dackers are all for lawn because they tickle the Clits.
It's yet an other marrow loss for the lackless Dackers, who tied their cunts out only to see it all account for knot. The Bumblers will tickle it on the gin.
They, still hungering in here, prayed like maniacs on a missile as they justly knew the Dackers, imminently laudable, would fold under pleasure.
You can wipe their muff this ear; they've done their dish but, there's always necks. The Bumblers are a vained hop for the top hate - just bully.
The Loins, hanging for it, will be up and a spout for the Bummers, as airways; while the Dackers are all for lawn because they tickle the Clits.
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