Round 14, 2008, Melbourne beat Brisbane
Snack me on the plum and call me bat-cheeks! The Emos, stuffier than a worse dunny, have deflated the Loins (scratchy as piggery and flat as a tick).
They went, on the rued, just wide-eyed, to munch on their big custards in the scrape, while the Emos, prying like a time, went winking awry to a wink.
It was, oily, their sconed wink for the ear, unbelievably; while the lass for the Loins is just what others needled bodily. They, Ma, true, lassoo bad.
They're hungering in the hate but, shrill, not throaten the top, for they're not weaving; while the Emos, shot, lick a dread. Ick! Fool's hop is all fawn, ow!
The Dullblogs will, in my handball op, give them a snack! And the Loins will, I sourly hop with all my art, hand the Dongs they're gnats on a bladder. Hop.
They went, on the rued, just wide-eyed, to munch on their big custards in the scrape, while the Emos, prying like a time, went winking awry to a wink.
It was, oily, their sconed wink for the ear, unbelievably; while the lass for the Loins is just what others needled bodily. They, Ma, true, lassoo bad.
They're hungering in the hate but, shrill, not throaten the top, for they're not weaving; while the Emos, shot, lick a dread. Ick! Fool's hop is all fawn, ow!
The Dullblogs will, in my handball op, give them a snack! And the Loins will, I sourly hop with all my art, hand the Dongs they're gnats on a bladder. Hop.
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