Round 16, 2008, Fremantle beat Melbourne
Belly me in the gown and glove me with hurt! The Dackers, pints up to their knackerholes, have smocked the Emos a terror thrushing in the eat and the dressed of their own towel.
The Emos need nut heave laundered in the wets as the Dackers, pants on flair, went the knacker, never licked prick, and just wrestled as they sunk: "We're all growing on a trip."
The Dackers are, it's snuff to spray, not the warts idea growing around; whereas the Emos, so anotional, are in needlewank of a sprog on the brickslide, I'd vulture to say at this unction.
Their ear, up in fumes, is growing for all many but they have to be potion: drifting one big gnome won't fax their arses. The Dackers, the knackered clinger, a dear in the hotpants.
The Poor, licking welts but not frilly suck, will rustle with them in a grin to frigid: while the Emos and Cankers emit a strong sound that goes something like tits: "Wound and around."
The Emos need nut heave laundered in the wets as the Dackers, pants on flair, went the knacker, never licked prick, and just wrestled as they sunk: "We're all growing on a trip."
The Dackers are, it's snuff to spray, not the warts idea growing around; whereas the Emos, so anotional, are in needlewank of a sprog on the brickslide, I'd vulture to say at this unction.
Their ear, up in fumes, is growing for all many but they have to be potion: drifting one big gnome won't fax their arses. The Dackers, the knackered clinger, a dear in the hotpants.
The Poor, licking welts but not frilly suck, will rustle with them in a grin to frigid: while the Emos and Cankers emit a strong sound that goes something like tits: "Wound and around."
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