Round 14, 2008, Geelong beat Adelaide
Piddle me on the bullocks and scream, "You lick that, don't you?". The Clits, so willed and so what, have given it to the Cowerers by a whipping bench of pints.
They were outglossed from the artset as they fimbled about for their pins in the dork. AS they dud, the Clits just went: "Give me the pill, I want to fork you!"
You know how it grows when the Clits are up and a spit - nobirdy can lay a hound on them. The Cowerers, no pants in the front, were cleft with their chins.
They lick the crass to munch slides like the Clits, very phew though there rare, and will be abound the muck as the Clits go: "Give me that cup, I'm coming."
The Dackers, up for a bit but wryly falling shorts, will have a toff time of knickering the muff; while the Cows will, methane, snuggle to put the pants on: Mudpuddlers.
They were outglossed from the artset as they fimbled about for their pins in the dork. AS they dud, the Clits just went: "Give me the pill, I want to fork you!"
You know how it grows when the Clits are up and a spit - nobirdy can lay a hound on them. The Cowerers, no pants in the front, were cleft with their chins.
They lick the crass to munch slides like the Clits, very phew though there rare, and will be abound the muck as the Clits go: "Give me that cup, I'm coming."
The Dackers, up for a bit but wryly falling shorts, will have a toff time of knickering the muff; while the Cows will, methane, snuggle to put the pants on: Mudpuddlers.
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