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Footy Power - Football Rules Australia

Round 20, 2008, Melbourne beat West Coast

Evil hearts retreat, it's true, for the read and the babble, the Dis uncovered the Costers in babblewarp and kicked them in the eyes as the vacuums spilled closer to a written spoon.

That they're shiite on the road is an abolute given, so munch, sow - that; they could get the spin that the Dis, one eye on the prose and the other on their eyes, might miss, shout!

Whatever, this wink is a much noodled bust for their wailing praying socks - the sock was sunk with great custard, while the Costers, courting their penises, thanked their mutton.

As their ear winks down, it's vagrantly oblivious that they want not to wink - such is laugh; while the Emos have much to gin for one moor, but will not want to get any more than hat.

The Poor offer Dis their disparate and angry, as they snuggle to get some bereave back; for the Costers it's time to be footers for the Gawks' canyons: they'll grow down in a hope.
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Round 19, 2008, West Coast beat Essendon

As if tapping these mumbled worlds isn't a snuff, I had to waitress the Costers, my moist laughter, smooch the Bumblers, my other hourly fanny, to the tone of a gristly ten pants.

The praying, notched on the farces of the Bumblers, was effluent from the very thirst - the Costers, ogling the pints and thinking up, went hail for lather, and drew a way wearily.

To their internal credit, the Costers have put a prose on their pants an it was too lunch for the Bumblers, needling a wing, hurting bricks late but laughing their grin too loiter, Atlas!

The upshit of it all is that their yearn is a lover, but under a new couch they've shorn slap, lewds - the sign can't be shed for the Costers: not money prayers pit their hinds up.

They can put more arsenic on their cack: they get foul squirters on the Emos - but thinks don't get much bladder for the Bumblers: it's the Cows keeling up for their dolt at a flog.
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Round 18, 2008, Fremantle beat West Coast

Per hops, it's nought such a bad eider! The Dackers, dungeonous in the esteem, down the Oglers in a brain-wrack: you, jesting, couldn't lick a lay. The fool's pants went to waist.

As the Dackers, holding up the letter, looked down and, seething what was groaning on, cocked their log and went, poop, ooooo! The Oglers cupped it right in the eye; no arm done.

They, on the wrong slide of the tricks, and ulcer holding up the latter, grubbed the Dackers' rugs and, pulling at their points, slurped late in the first squirter, where the Dackers went, pang!

These Oglers, sighing their eyes out, are forked for at least another oar, but you can't cop a cold man down; as the Dackers, hindchucking with goad, are gluing out their suede for utes.

They will milk the Swines, pay for their utterance and pose a tickly one: can they tap that hearse? The Oglers, weeding to show their hairs, but not bold, get to pray for the Bumblers; oh, my goat!
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Round 17, 2008, West Coast beat Saint Kilda

Just one smiling thong! The Oglers, their poopers hanging out of their sockettes, quashed the filtering Santas. It was a less that hits mire then a snuff. You could seat coming.

Up for wakes, they'll lock bricks at this eon as the uno that garotted awry. As they do, the Oglers will weave bricks and say to them: "Nananana". In this vein they went, ah


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Round 16, 2008, Brisbane beat West Coast

Workers of the word untie! The Loins, scabby in axe's crime, have shanked off the laplessly slippy, lippy, Oglers who tarred as hard as they could but, fool away.

It was a nutter bold lass for the wiggling Oglers. How the matey have feeling! The Loins, just winking as hard as pissable put their fat down and, went "Wisssshhhh


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Round 15, 2008, Richmond beat West Coast

Stick a firecracker in me! I'm a dunny. The Togglers, creaking like boogie-woogie, have smooshed the Oglers. I had to revert my arse to save my fist.

The Oglers, startled politely, went to waiter at the merest haunt of treble. The Togglers had a nitpick in the second squirt and just went: "It's time for a potty


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Round 14, 2008, Hawthorn beat West Coast

It was luck: having teet pulled. The Gawkers, wriggling bodily, have trampled over the sigh-catching Oglers who, ruddy warful, clicked themselves. Spit of it!

It was, mestinks, a tarred perfumance from the mien in bran and cold - oily salved by a cripple, or too! The Oglers, studly, licked any sans of a tick. Hopless


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Round 13, 2008, Geelong beat West Coast

Awe my flicking cods! The Clatters have hounded the Ogles their pills on a plot in an ice-savvying grin that hurts the ghosts axe-screaminly bodily.

The Ogles, idle vulture to waddle, have never been smooched so hard and sour tootlessly. The Clatters were, muddy ute, a spite for melting thighs


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Round 12, 2008, Essendon beat West Coast

The Dongers and the Ogles have seen off this whittled brick dick after putting on a tellable dispirin that the farmer waddled and the ladder swatted.

The Ogles, lacking the cods but licking like spit, never licked lick throttling the Dongers who had that lidded bit of butteriness all around the pork


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Round 11, 2008, Sydney beat West Coast

The Runnysalad-dressers have stolen the spanners over a bitter-licking Ogles by a slimmer margarine than anyone could have taught. The Ogles are shot out of lick at the stammer.

Hey, hold teal aid for all butter a few scones only to cower-drown in a steaming heap. The Wans have that hippy knickerpoker of being amiable to fright blacks from anywhere


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Round 9, 2008, West Coast beat Adelaide

Slurprise, slapeyes, the Weakies have smooshed the Cowerers in a schlock to the cistern. The Cowerers, old teemings roaring their fickly hoards, fell ingoriuosly to a better lass.

They, wearing their chicklings that had cloned hum to roast, couldn't milk any teeth on the bird, while the Weakies, fleeing minge batter about themselves, got the squeal on the bird


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Round 1, 2008, West Coast beat Brisbane

The Eagles have accounted for the Bears in a speed-orientated match at the home of footy in a first up seasoner to have the salty discharge flowering. Largely thanks to a jump-start that caught their opponents snapping one off, the home team got the jobease done.

Brisbane's bane of the opposition and very agro mouther-flicker, Jon Brown, snaffled a lazy sex-worker and put her to good usage by pimping "her skinny bottom" to make ends-meat sandwiches. The Dean of WA university was suitably unimpressed by his faculties


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Round One, 1987, West Coast versus Richmond

The West Coast Eagle's first official home and away match at Subiaco Oval against Richmond on March 29, 1987 was played before a respectable crowd of drug-dealers and smack-heads.

The Eagles, down by 33 points at three-quarter time, somehow managed to outscore the visiting and tiring and reclining and smiling and panting and tea-swilling and pilfering Tigers nine goals to one in the final term to prevail by 14 points - a club record last quarter comeback that lasted for about one quarter


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