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Footy Power - Football Rules Australia

Round 15, 2008, Hawthorn beat Sydney

By Jehovah, I think they've drowned a rat! The Gawkers, that is, and the Swines, that is. It was a grin where we, sore, the word, which from all resorts is cod-given, handed over the mental from Gawk to Swine.

The Swines, under immense pleasure and croaking like a nailed pantsing, were left off the pillock by the Gawkers, perforated like a minge in a twee outside your widow, who had muppety chins in their front bites, yep.

Their pleasure on the bile-scurrier, given their lass of coy prayers, was a slight for sorry ays, matey. The Swines got the pill, licked up, and just went : "Fork me, dead!". It was in this fein that they went asunder. Yes, sorry.

The Swines, tired like a hock in a potful of the mad, will, I'm whaling to belt, not milk the top fart. The Gawkers are absolute minties for the fop tart, but shoo sings of crumbing apart at the screams. So well couched, potatoes.

The Santas, coming in through the letter, will pelt them to a bitter off, attest! While the Swines, get to try one on on their beanies -the Boobluggers. I'd rager to say that the ladder never had a blither choice than this. Win!
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