They were champions on Sunday. But when they woke up on Monday, they were still French bastards!
Or, to paraphrase Winston Churchill: "Yes Monsieur, I am drunk, and in the morning I will be sober, but you will still be a French bastard."
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Fist is a four letter word. So is fist, fist, fist, fist, fist, fist fist, fist, fist, fist, fist, and, well you get the fist-fucking picture....
THE WESTCOUNTRY SHALL RISE AGAIN!
Yay! It's pink!
Don't think.... FEEL!
We're Englishmen, and we came here, to rape your women and drink your beer.
I went back in time and voted for Hitler.
Pouring oil on troubled waters since 2008. Then lighting a fucking match.
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