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!"
The potty was in the mouth of their gal, where they all just went, pang, pang. The Oglers, endearing themselves, sat it out on the belch, as is their warranty.
Noseless to fuck, they're forked in the rear and, prolapsed necks. Arse wail that winds well. The Togglers are up for a plinth and a ditch. Geese, they're ockers.
The Bumblers, no lass on the up and a spit, will gift them a good munch: could go ether awry; the Oglers, in nose of some spit, face the Loins, disparate.
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!"
The potty was in the mouth of their gal, where they all just went, pang, pang. The Oglers, endearing themselves, sat it out on the belch, as is their warranty.
Noseless to fuck, they're forked in the rear and, prolapsed necks. Arse wail that winds well. The Togglers are up for a plinth and a ditch. Geese, they're ockers.
The Bumblers, no lass on the up and a spit, will gift them a good munch: could go ether awry; the Oglers, in nose of some spit, face the Loins, disparate.
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