Kia ora.. Piece of piss, this heaps good chick is as nuclear-free as a outrageously awesome kumara. Mean while, in Shortland Street, The Hungery Caterpilar and James and the Giant Peach were up to no good with a bunch of rip-off Silver Ferns. The chocka full force of his munting was on par with Rhys Darby's choice jersey. Put the jug on will you bro, all these random troties can wait till later. The first prize for burning my Vogel's goes to... Manus Morissette and his crook Monopoly, the New Zealand version with Queen Street and stuff, what a stink buzz. Bro, Edmonds Cook Books are really same same but different good with cool Swanndris, aye. You have no idea how chronic our stink chilly bins were aye. Every time I see those kiwi as whitebait fritters it's like Castle Hill all over again aye, rack off. Those bloody Jaffa's. Anyway, Spot, the Telecom dog is just Sir Edmond Hillary in disguise, to find the true meaning of life, one must start pashing with the gumboot, mate.

After the can of Watties Baked Beans is munted, you add all the pretty suss pohutukawa trees to the whanau you've got yourself a meal. Technology has allowed primo treaties to participate in the global conversation of paru rugby balls. The next Generation of flat stick hotties have already jumped the ditch over at the op shop. What's the hurry Rangi? There's plenty of craft supplies in Queenstown. The tinny house holds the most mint community in the country.. Hairy Maclary from Donaldson's Dairy was cruising for a brusing when the mean as whinging event occured. Yeah nah, this beaut morepork is as hammered as a pretty suss housie. Mean while, in the Four Square supermarket, The Topp Twins and Bazza were up to no good with a bunch of rip-off Jafas. The hard case force of his frying up was on par with Dr Ropata's sweet as pikelet.

Put the jug on will you bro, all these good as toasted sandwichs can wait till later. The first prize for reffing the game goes to... Uncle Bully and his naff paua, what a munter. Bro, keas are really tip-top good with solid rimu All Blacks, aye. You have no idea how cracker our sweet Bell Birds were aye. Every time I see those hard yakka bottles of milk it's like the fish n' chip shop all over again aye, you don't know his story, bro. Anyway, John Key is just Lomu in disguise, to find the true meaning of life, one must start chundering with the packet of Wheetbix, mate. After the kiwiburger is rooted, you add all the tapu vivids to the hangi you've got yourself a meal. Technology has allowed bung blokes to participate in the global conversation of carked it mince pies. The next Generation of buzzy goons have already packed a sad over at the dairy. What's the hurry Tama? There's plenty of fellas in The Naki. The sausage sizzle holds the most rough as guts community in the country..

Mr Whippy was boiling-up when the wicked rooting event occured. Can I arks you a question, this bloody holden is as sweet as as a stuffed cuzzie. Mean while, in the pub, Maui and Hercules Morse, as big as a horse were up to no good with a bunch of dodgy jelly tip icecreams. The epic force of his making scones was on par with the Armed Offenders Squad's stoked pavlova. Put the jug on will you bro, all these beached as kiwis can wait till later. The first prize for cooking up a feed goes to... Jonah Lomu and his shithouse tomato sauce, what a manus. Bro, onion dips are really thermo-nuclear good with pearler marmite shortages, aye. You have no idea how snarky our beautiful boxes of fluffies were aye. Every time I see those fully sick lengths of number 8 wire it's like Rangitoto Island all over again aye, got a dollar for the bus?

Don't be a sad guy, share Kiwipsum with your friends