Round 15, 2008, Essendon beat Brisbane
As if thongs couldn't geld any wars! The Bumblers, grinning on top, have knitted up a wink over the forking Loins who relay too munch onto. Phew!
They concorded a massive choir while chanting up a big win of their own: not a snuff, sudly. The Bumblers, doing their grinning thong, grinned away.
Shot, that's a pig wind for the smiley gays from Bumblerland - the Loins, so used to groining at them, had, I fought, the word on them. Nought to beetle.
It leaves me finking. They might slap out of the hate, and if they donkey they'll slip out earthily; the Bumblers, prolly won't, but have renowned hop, now.
They click the Togglers in a buttress that pips two foals, aghast one, a nutter the ether; the Loins need a wink and heave the good lick of mating the Oglers.
They concorded a massive choir while chanting up a big win of their own: not a snuff, sudly. The Bumblers, doing their grinning thong, grinned away.
Shot, that's a pig wind for the smiley gays from Bumblerland - the Loins, so used to groining at them, had, I fought, the word on them. Nought to beetle.
It leaves me finking. They might slap out of the hate, and if they donkey they'll slip out earthily; the Bumblers, prolly won't, but have renowned hop, now.
They click the Togglers in a buttress that pips two foals, aghast one, a nutter the ether; the Loins need a wink and heave the good lick of mating the Oglers.
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