At Errol HQ, we never like to do things straight away if we can let Future Us look after it instead. So how about a really late recap of the Dragons vs Bulldogs from the weekend? Awesome.

I’m watching this game form the couch. Sure I’d rather be hanging in the gong at WIN Stadium looking at the water views (they really are lovely) and basking in the kind of satisfaction that only comes from being within stalking distance of both Hot Bitch Cooper AND Wendell Sailor, but a girls gotta take what she can get. And what I got … is lazy.

The Bulldogs fans have a sign that says ‘STAGGERING’. Really, guys? Of all the options, you went with a tribute to David Stagg? No offence to Dave, but he’s not really a marquee player, is he? For the mums and gays reading, if you cast him in Beaches, he’d be Barbara Hershey, not Bette Midler, right?

The Dragons play a great first set with a brilliant kick from Tiny Dancer but I’m too busy being shocked that Hornbag has new spanx on. Thery’re all … white! And shiny! I thought Hornbag was gonna hold onto those old manky faded blue-grey spanx until the end of eternity. I always figured when nuclear armageddon came, all that would survive would be cockroaches, and Hornbag’s blue bike pants. Pretty sure Hornbag would love me comparing his crotchal region to insects, just quietly.

Pic. Getty Images

After about ten seconds Darius Boyd throws a great pass right to B.Moz to dive in like superman for a try. Kiki sends me text messages that just say ‘B.MOZZZZZz‘ and ‘FANTASY LEAGUE SUCK IT‘.

I send one back that says ‘F*CK ME THAT’S THE FIRST TIME I’VE EVER SEEN BALL-HOG PASS A FOOTY.’ Dah-rius, honey, if you can pass like that, how come you’ve never done it before, hmmmm?

Brad Fittler gives me updates from the sidelines and I feel like- much as I love Freddy -- of all the post-footy jobs you could possibly give him, why would you pick one where you can only hear his voice?

He has a lovable face, relevant things to say, footy cred like woah, and … a voice like a punch-drunk boxer. It’s like listening to Milo Kerrigan tell me about the Dragons.

I swear to god he actually says “I can pretty much guarantee that they’ll end up the other end the bulldogs in not too long time”. I think he’s nervous. DON’T BE NERVOUS FREDDY DARLIN.

There’s some crazy sea mist action on the field and newly-recognised hot bitch Jeremy Smith’s new curly hair is all windswept and drenched, swoon. It makes me sad that he hid his hot under a Storm jersey for so long.

Weyman goes in for a tackle and Rabs cackles “talk about some prime beef coming together there! Hickey into Michael Weyman!” I know when I think of Jarrad Hickey the first thing I think of is beef. Mmmm wagyu.

Dean Young scores, but Sowie can’t convert. I think he got the prance wrong and it put him off.

They have to send in an interchange player for Jarrad Hickey cause Wagyu Jarrad is deadset EXHAUSTED. He’s the dampest, sweatiest man I’ve ever seen and I’m scared he might have a stroke.

Brad ‘Milo Kerrigan’ Fittler gives us a weather report: “there’s a bit of breeze, it’s not too hot. You just get a bit of a lather up.”

Sassy can’t wait till Freddy’s known as the Most Trusted Name in Weather.
Is the weather getting messy? Aaa-aaaaaask Freddy!

Benny Creagh puts a hit on David Stagg that is completely massive and Dave takes a quick ride on the Teacups that makes the ‘STAGGERING’ sign in the crowd seem really cruel and ironic.

At this point I really need to pee but apparently I would rather risk internal complications and hold it in than stop watching the footy. Also, is it just me or is Luke Priddis kind of a bizarro Trent Barrett?

The doggies have a chance at a try on the left hand side, but Dah-rius takes Bryson Goodwin over the sideline to stop it, then patronisingly pats him on the head. And when Bryson gets his bitch on and wants to start a fight, Dah-rius runs away. He fights like me!

Beau Scott takes his place, because dammit if Beau isn’t the angriest bitch ever as soon as he steps onto a football field. All of a sudden Hornbag, Ben Hannant, and Flossy nightingale are in the middle of an actual fight and I feel like there is no one in the world less suited to be involved in punchy punchy times. If the camera could show what was actually happening in there Ben Hannant and Flossy would just be nuzzling each other’s necks like giant puppies. J.Moz and B.Moz run away to fake fight each other on the other side of the field, also known as “entertaining the crowd with a show of brotherly love” according to Rabs.

… hasn’t he seen Philadelphia?
Pic. capped by Cronkstaaaah

Rabs, this prase “brotherly love”, it means something that you don’t think it means. Trust me.

Other things Rabs has told us tonight include that Jamal Idris used to do Discus, and that Sterlo is a “whippersnapper”. These things may or may not be true.

At half time Kiki rings me to discuss the fight and to tell me she has run out of clean undies and is freeballing. We are officially way too close.

The boys finish their oranges and the second half starts. This is also known as ‘Rabs being even more fucking hilarious/senile than usual”.

There’s a fiesta of Warriors-esque passes and, on the sideline, Milo Kerrigan the weatherman interviews Michael Ennis. Rabs thinks “the players are really improving … what about Sam Thaiday’s oratory skills!”

The game loses momentum, until Beau Scott brings down a bulldog and Rabs calls him “a bounty hunter! They don’t get away from him!”

I hear his new movie is really shit, though.

The doggies finally get a try in; Gary Warburton is penalised for a high tackle because I think we all know that good things don’t happen to men called Gary Warburton.

No, Gary, NO!

The dragons charge into Green and Hickey in defence. I’m impressed. I’d be too scared they’d eat me. Emmett scores, Kimmorley is enraged, and I am completely confused by whatever is going on with the reffing. For the record, I’m not even drunk.

Also, yes that was very good Nick Emmett but please don’t wink at me through the tv again. It’s unnerving. We hardly know each other.

Meanwhile Kimmorley is still angry and frantically miming obstruction at the ref like a netball umpire in slo-mo.

Kiki phones me again and we declare Hornbag as the Errol man of the match.

Ben Creagh slams Kimmorley and mini-Hoppo takes a looong ride on Space Mountain. I yell out “thanks for comin’ Kimmorley!” like a dirty bogan.

B. Moz runs in for his third try of the noght and I seriously cannot even process how unfair this is. Remember our fantasy experiment? I really REALLY need this kind of talent in my team, but B.Moz refuses to give in and just steal a car or something. He’s so fucking selfish. My fantasy team is so gonna lose this week.

With that the ref blows the whistle, 26-6. I cry a little for my poor unfortunate fantasy team … and did I mention I need to pee again?

So as y’all know, June is dedicated to Women in League. Why? Because ladies who love league are awesome. It’s a universal truth.

So to raise money for breast cancer, my beloved Dragons didn’t stop with the wearing of the Pink V. Oh no. My babies went ahead and….wait for it…decorated bras. Yes, my boys are not just awesome footy players, they are now also lingerie designers. So multiskilled!

It’s like when I participated in my highschool’s production of Into The Woods as a dancer, costume designer and manufacturer (fairy wings were my speciality) AND a gun makeup artist. Do you know how hard it is to create convincing wolf makeup on a public school budget?  We were straight up deprived. I also had to share a dressing room with the male leads because and I quote ‘the dancers won’t mind getting changed in front of boys’. OH OKAY THEN.

Errr anyway. Let’s take a look at some of my boys’ booby creations shall we?

Unsuprisingly, Darius Boyd has gone the red tassels in the nipple area. I don’t know why I find his choice is so predictable, I just do. I can actually imagine him whacking on the bra, swirling the tassels around and giggling like an idiot. All while ‘Cherry Pie’ by Warrant plays in the background. Yep.

Justin Poore, a tassel lover? Now this IS a suprise. He seems so….chaste. And you think you know someone!

Dell’s is so disco! Hardly a shock considering his pre-game dance warm up. Did you all see it last week? One word – AMAZING. You just know he is listening to ‘Earth, Wind and Fire’. Sing it with me kids! Bad-de-ya…say you do remember, bad-de-ya…dancing in September.

[Kiki and I disagree on this if you're wondering. My guess is he was rocking out to Kool and the Gang. Get yo back up off the wall! - S]

I’m not quite sure why Jeremy Smith and Luke Priddis were forced to do this activity as a pair. Either way, that bra is outright hideous. Where is the design vision in this, hmmm? You would think with not one but TWO brains they could come up with something a bit less visually offensive than that. This is some broke-ass stripper from Kalgoorlie shit right there.

HAHA Hornbag! Oh my. Why is he so cute? And why did they give him such a tiny bra? Are they insinuating if he was a lady he would be flat chested? I love the dainty way he’s holding it, like it’s a historical artefact and he doesn’t want to cause it any harm with the acidity of his skin.

ps – Hot damn, that’s alot of red fluff. It looks like Elmo road kill.

MATT PRIOR WHY YOU SO MAD? Did Dell steal the last of the sequins or something? Or are you shitty you got a giant nanna bra? I enjoy the placement of the roses in the shape of crucifixes. Fabric flowers for Jesus! This photo is amazing x 1000 and I am going to print it out and put on the ‘Wall of Lolz’ in our offices.

AWWWWW BRETTY! Why you so cute baby? Squeeee! Look how proud he looks. Like a cat that just dropped a headless bird at your feet. It has feathers and everything! New from Bonds – The Dead Bird Bra, by Brett Morris.

Aaaah Beau Scott and his ruffles. Look at the work that’s gone into that bra! It’s so…neat. I bet Beau was the star of his Year 8 Home Economics class. Who woulda thought that such an aggressive player would be so particular when it comes to craft?

Hot Bitch are they … are they butterflies in the shape of V’s? REALLY? Lolz 4evaaaaa. Who know Coops had such delicate sensibilities. The thought of that sex machine of a man hunched over a bra gluing on fabric butterflies with a hot glue gun is literally the funniest thing in the entire world.

Now, I have made fun, because well … this is Errol. But I am so so proud of my club for doing something so adorable and altruistic.

The bras are being auctioned off and all the proceeds go to Joanne McKay Breast Cancer Foundation. The foundation was set up in memory of the late Joanne McKay, wife of ex Dragons legend, Brad, who sadly lost her battle with cancer in 2002. Go and check out the auction.

So much to the dismay of Bec, who made it back to the top of the ladder last week, we didn’t do a tips post for round 13. Some might think this is because we didn’t got sick of dirty Queenslanders winning everything, but really we just couldn’t be arsed. We do love a conspiracy theory though (2Pac is totally alive), so if you’d prefer to believe the former we won’t mind at all.

Speaking of being overlooked, I forgot to mention last week that when we were at the Surfers Paradise Hard Rock Cafe having severe flashbacks to the Vegas Hard Rock, the bartender completely ignored me when we ordered our second round, and I realised I am the Ben ‘Hornbag’ Hornby of Errol. Always being forgotten (though sometimes this is just because we are idiots), just like Hornbag! We are also both quite nurturing. I would so be the one who made sure B.Moz wasn’t late for things. I bet Hornbag opens all the boys’ childproof medicine bottles just like I have to do for Kiki.

Hornbag or Lozzy? Who can tell?

pic: Getty Images

As for tips, turns out Bec is still top of the ladder anyway. Our weekly winner is Baz. Bec and Baz. Two ladies, two QLDers, two B names. SHIT IS CREEPY.

1. Bec

2. Baz

3. Kris_10

4. Spinner

If you’re wondering, my 5 correct tips this week have moved me from 11th in the comp to 7th. Movin on up (na na na na na na na) to the eastside. I would say where Kiki and Sassy are on the ladder, but I’m not that mean.

Because I’m lazy very busy and important, you’re not only getting the tips and fantasy results on Wednesday but also squished into the one post together. AN ERROL COMBO. Like this awesome ‘meal’ we got at Krystal in Jacksonville – 6 tiny tiny burgers plus chips and a coke – for about 10 bucks:

We encourage ringing Errol HQ and ordering the Errol Combo. We would very much enjoy making jokes about buns and asking if you want a footlong.

ERROLTIPS

Most people have been saying what a shit round they had. Personally I was pretty pleased with my 3/5. If it weren’t for tipping the Rabbitohs and Bulldogs it would’ve  been perfect and I would have a free whopper voucher. As it happens, I am a vegetarian (ok so I ate the burgers in the above pic, but there’s no way that was actually meat so it doesn’t count). I think the Universe knows this and will never let me get a perfect round. God dammit.

Our weekly winner that’s NOT me, grumble grumble, is Suchy’s mate Neckbeard. Suchy is thrilled:

Apparently he is very excited about being featured on Errol btw. HI ALEX AKA NECKBEARD! YOU IS FAMOUS!

As we bitch about every week, the leaderboard remains full of dirty Queenslanders and Pete, who might as well be a Queenslander anyway. Baz has been knocked out by Mr Spinner Howland, yet Bec and Bree stay put in position 1 & 2. SOMEONE SHAKE THIS UP PLEASE.

1. Bree

2. Bec

3. Spinner

4. Hatecushion

—

FANTASY  LEAGUE

BYE WEEKS ARE SHIT. There’s no fun in a low score, even if it’s only because 5 teams played. No fun at all.

The Wildcats

Our beloved Wildcats actually did OK without Coops, Steve Price, T.Camps, Benny Creagh etc etc. 876 points! We finally brought Hornbag back in after ditching him in Round 5 (I forget why) and scored a lovely 97 points. YAY HORNBAG.

Speaking of, we all agreed he was making us happy in our pants during the game on Friday night.  I think being back in the Wildcats is giving him some extra sparkle. And not the kind that Zeffie’s drama teacher said he has.

You might recall that last week Sassy was so outraged by the lack of DanDan Mortimer that she marched down to the Tele to tell them so. Turns out there’s a reason for this, as the Tele’s Online Sports Editor Vivienne told us in an email. They also blogged about it.

UPDATE: Those looking to sign Daniel Mortimer – or any other player yet to play first grade – should be aware that new players will be added to the system once they play a game. Therefore, you cannot buy Mortimer this week, but he will be available next week.

HOW AWESOME IS THAT? Being a weirdo at work can apparently pay off.

The Hottie McHotHots

This has actually prompted me to consider whether there’s something wrong with my brain. I distinctly remember telling Sassy that ‘the Hotties are fine this week’ after checking who was/wasn’t playing. I thought we were down 2 players at the most.

Turns out we were down SEVEN. SEVEN!! It wasn’t till I checked our progressive score on Sunday that I realised how many were out. HOW DID I NOT NOTICE SEVEN PLAYERS MISSING? I am baffled and might look into getting an MRI. Doctor doctor, I needz a brain check for fantasy league!

So the Hotties scored 577 and surprisingly they came 6th in the league. I guess everyone else was even worse off than we were.

Timmy Moltzen filled in for T.Camps and Craig Wing while they were off galivanting around with the NSW team, and Shannan Mcpherson made his debut. Chris Heighington was promoted to captain, Trevor ‘Sexmachine’ Thurling finally played a game…and that’s pretty much all there is to report.

**Make sure you all buy Rugby League Week this week because WE’RE IN IT, along with the boys from FireUp! Massive thanks go out to Steve Mascord for writing it, and to all of our fanz for helping us be popular enough to write about.**

YEEEEHA!

We have such exciting news. We have been invited by the CRL to spend the week in Orange leading up to the City vs Country game. And by ‘invited’ I mean we informed them we will be turning up and are dearly hoping they don’t put out restraining orders on us. It’s the Errol way.

(Yes that is the CRL logo pasted onto an Orange. My brain = v.literal)

Sassy and myself will be roadtripping out to the country in my mum’s car. My beloved Jeepy is awesome and has withstood me having about 10 minor accos in it, but starts to shake violently if I go over 100 on the freeway. TRUE STORY.

Anyway, we will be rockin out in Orange from Tuesday the 5th of May until the Saturday of that week. We plan to harass the team as much as possible. Needless to say we will ask them lots of inappropriate questions and report back to you all. We will also be attending lots of Official Things around town which we are tres excited about. We really hope someone calls us ‘cityslickers’.

(Note we chose our hotel because of its wireless internets so we will be blogging *LIVE FROM ORANGE* all week!)

Obviously we will be going to the big game on Friday night. Technically we should be cheering for City but whatevs. We both love plaid and cowboys soooo.. .GO COUNTRY! Also one time we went horseriding together. That’s countryish, right? It was in Fiji (yes we went on a romantical trip to Fiji together, what of it?) and we decided to spend a lovely afternoon riding horses along the beach. Now I grew up riding and I am a moderately accomplished horse lady and was looking forward to a relaxing few hours and a beautiful view of the sunset. It was all going well until it started to rain.

I immediately regretted my decision to wear a cute pair of shorty shorts. My legs really started to itch. BAD. I looked down and realised I had broken out into hives. I AM ALLERGIC TO WET HORSE.

We galloped back to the hotel, me in agony, Sassy in hysterics. We rummaged through our bags and thankfully found a Clarantyne. I rolled around the bed yelping from pain while Sassy lol’d so hard she cried.

Is that a sexy story or WHAT? Hold yaselves back boys!

And finally, it turns out we both have a birthday that week. Yes our birthdays are two days apart, we can’t believe it either. Needless to say we will be dropping hints to Hornbag that we love banana cake, Moet and vintage jewellery. Because if anyone is gonna organise a party, it’s him. You know it’s true.

(HUGE thanks to the beautiful Jess for hooking us up. We love you chicken!!)

FOOTY! YOU’RE BACK! Oh baby, how I’ve missed you. Come here, sit on my lap and I’ll show you just how much.

Bet you guys missed horrifically creepy sentences like that one…right? Well never fear my darlings, now the footy season is back you can enjoy them at least once a week. I thought you might like to see the terrifying adorable bear card I picked out for Hot Bitch Cooper. For some reason he sent me an AVO in return. A rather obscure way of showing his appreciation but apparently thats how he rolls.

I had a few invitations for outings over the weekend but bitches be trippin if they think I am going to leave the house on the opening weekend of the season. I am proud to admit that I watched every single game. Okay, that’s a lie. I turned off Panthers v Sharks halfway through because it was, to be frank, a festival of crap. I made up for this by watching  the Baby Eels vs Baby Warriors. I adore the Under 20′s games. Why? Because the babies get SO!EXCITED! by everything. It’s like watching puppies and kittens…..if they wore footy uniforms and tackled each other. Or something.

The new Toyota Cup promo shots delighted the Errol Office

I was planning on doing a full recap. But now I’m not. Because I really like point form. It makes me happy. Also, it’s my blog and I can do what I want.

a) Seeing my boys line up for the national anthem gave me actual goosebumps. This is the first emotional response I’ve had since the World Cup finished. Apparently I turn into a sociopath of sorts during the off season.

b) I LOVED seeing Uncy Wayne wearing Dragons merch. Especially loved the fact he was rocking crumpled cargo shorts and sneakers when other coaches are all buttoned up in stuffy uncomfortable suits. This is coz people with nothing to prove don’t have to dress up. Which is why I reguarly wear trackies to restaurants (I wish I was joking).

c) Apparently in his excitement for the new season, Greg Inglis accidentally spilt an entire tub of gel on his head. Listen Greg, I know it’s sometimes hard to gauge the exact amount of hair product that’s right for your hair but daaaaaaamn. That was some straight up Soul Glo shit.

He was so….greasy. I half expected a trainer to run out and start mopping his hair with a towel. Surely a head that slippery is against the rules some how? He was slipping through tackles all over the place! Oh he also played brilliantly and caused me to write FUCKING SHIT FUCK INGLIS BOOO STORM DIEEEE in my notes. True story.

d) It seems both teams were doing their best to provide the lolz. It was a deadset slapstick comedy fest out there. I am 73% certain this is because everyone in the NRL wants nothing more than to appear on Errol. Soooo…congratulations to Anthony Quinn who got hammered in a tackle and then got up and…wait for it….played the ball the wrong way. Even better than that was the look on his face when he realised he just embarassed himself in front of thousands of people. Brilliant. I love public humiliation, especially when the subject is wearing a Storm uniform.

And equal congratulations to Beau Scott  and a Melbourne player whose name I don’t remember, who managed to some pull off of Cirque De Soleil move during a tackle. Which concluded in Beau-Beau being horizontally FLIPPED onto the turf. Tres acrobatic boys. You two have a career in the circus beckoning.

e) HORNBAG! Okay well everyone will remember this game for his no no times, but I for one would prefer to focus on the positive. Because I am nothing if not an enternal optimist. He is now the full time captain (which we campaigned for last year just btw), scored a lovely try, looked totally cute with his off season tan and has apparently acquired some  snazzy new red boots. Or as my mother called them ‘Hornbag’s pretty ruby slippers’.

f) And the piece de resistance of the entire evening. THE RETURN OF EBONY AND IVORY!  Hot Bitch and Big Dell!  Just for the record, we totally picked this manlove affair like 6 months ago. We be psychic and shit.

Seriously, their try was one of the most awesome moments of my footy fan career to date. Dell in general is ridiculously amazing, even when he is playing silly buggers and accidentally kicking grubbers over the sideline. Instead of yelling obscenities at the TV like I do with every other player, I simply giggle and say things like “Oh Dell, you so funny”.

What I love about Dell is he is about 47 years old, a teeny bit fat and always drenched in perspiration….yet he continues to back himself and make big breaks. AND IT WORKS! I especially love that he sent my imaginary mans Hot Bitch Cooper in for the actual try. Sharing, caring and living together in perfect harmonnnnnny.

And yes, as everyone keeps reminding me, my boys lost. But unlike alot of other Dragons fans I wasn’t particularly upset. Last year we wouldn’t have ever got that close to victory against the Storm. The boys never gave up. Their discipline was VASTLY improved (to say the least), their passing was short, sharp and to the point and well…they looked like contenders. For the first time since 2005. Mark my words readers, the Dragons are gonna be a force to be reckoned with this year. YES, A FORCE.

Oh, and despite the horrific irony of the NRL’s new tagline being ‘Feel It’, I kinda really sorta totally love the song. I may or may not have downloaded it on Itunes and danced around my living room occasionally pretending to score a try.

In conclusion, I love you football. Pls never leave me again.

WHEEEE! Tonight is Slumber Party Night at the Errol HQ.  Tomorrow at 9am Sassy + Kiki make their debut (as a duo) on the wireless. Yes kids, we totally have a one way ticket to ~*RADIO SUPERSTARDOM*~. And despite our arrogance confidence, we are a biiiiit nervy.

We need all the moral support we can get, so we have gathered the troops around the fire for a snugglefest. Errol snuggles are the best. We have just buttoned Work Experience Boy Lachie into his Superman onesie, Intern Brownie is melting cooking chocolate on the stove in preparation for our Brownie’s Special Hot Chocolates (extra marshmallows) and we finally convinced John-John to actually do up his terry towelling shorty robe. It’s a fetching shade of lavender with JJ embrodiered on the chest in gold thread. Really brings out his eyes.

But before we settle down for our High School Musical marathon we have to present the nominees for the Errol for Snuggliest Man in League. John-John brought his own selection of movies but well … let’s just say we have to save them for after Lachie’s bedtime. And he’s getting pretty sleepy, so lets get started.

Firstly, for the newbies who might be confused as to what a Snuggly Man is… let us revist our Polarfleece Award announcement -

There are all different types of attractiveness in this world. Men may not realise it, but ‘cute’ can mean a whole range of things. It’s possible to be intensely attracted to a man without immediately wanting him to put his penis in you. Yes really. When your first impulse is to take them to browse the soft furnishings section of Freedom, you have yourself a snuggly man.

JARRYD ‘BABY’ HAYNE

Do we really have to say anything?  Have you seen his face?  LOOK AT THAT FACE.  LOOK AT IT!

Who’s a pretty boy?  Are you a gorgeous boy?

If we really had to say anything, we’d say it’s a little bit the eyelashes, a little bit the dimples, and a little bit that he still has the teensiest bit of babyfat. Baby Hayne has footy player confidence mixed with an adorable vulnerability that makes us go SQUEEEE (as we did at Origin).  Nobody puts Baby in a corner.

ISSAC LUKE

pic: stuff.co.nz

Well first of all, we just love a man with Two First Names. And hair that resembles carefully designed topiary. We think it’s nice that he puts in that kind of effort. His cuteness defies mere words. Take one look at Issac’s precious little face. If you don’t immediately see why he deserves to be in this category then well … you should just give up on life. For realz.

SCOTT PRINCE (aka Prince Scotty The Caramel)

goldcoast.com.au

Ohhhh Scotty. How we love thee! His extreme preciousness is even more remarkable considering he’s a DIRTY QUEENSLANDER. BOOO! HISSSSS! Usually we love it when Queenslanders suffer horrific injuries during Origin, but when Scotty snapped his teeny caramel arm in half at Origin 3 our hearts broke into little pieces. Kiki had a broken arm at the same time and likes to think this synchronicity means her and Scotty are somehow cosmically connected. Sadly she broke her arm running across the street to a gay bar at 5am and not representing her state in front of 80,000 people. But some would say they are both heroes … and we have to agree.

Scotty inspires big snuggle times. He combines intense cuteness with a cheekiness that makes our hearts go boom boom. We especially adore his ManLove affair with Benji Marshall. So much so that Sassy made a beautiful/touching/really creepy tribute video. Pls watch it immediately k thanks.

smh.com.au

JASON ‘FLOSSY’ NIGHTINGALE

FLOOSSSSSY! We love love LOVE our Flossy. He gives us no feeling at all in our vajayjays, just in our hearts. Feelings of snuggles, flannelette PJs and non-sexual hair stroking.

We have christened him the labrador of rugby league. He embodies everything one loves about labs- enthusiasm, cuddliness and boundless energy. Not to mention the big dopey eyes and the shiny blonde hair. And you know if given the chance he would totally lick you on the face. AND YOU WOULD TOTALLY LET HIM.

BEN ‘HORNBAG’ HORNBY

Getty Images

I’m sure our regular readers are well aware of our Ben Hornby obsession. For the uninitiated, we here at Errol think our beloved Hornbag is vastly underrated…as a player and as a Cute Man.  Just because he’s pale like milk and his eyelashes/eyebrows/facial hair are invisible from a distance. I mean really. That is NO REASON to leave him out. Bastards!

Cuteness doesn’t only come in Daniel Conn shaped packages people. The Errol kiddies are all inclusive…we love everyone (except the Storm). The rangas, the fatties, the drunks and the under appreciated – WE LOVE YOU ALL!

There are two different types of Hornbag. Snuggly Hornbag and Despot Hornbag. Read about the intricate differences here. Obviously Snuggly Hornbag is the one in the running here.

Okay truthfully … we can’t really explain this one. WE JUST LOVE HIM OKAY? Don’t question us.

Needless to say there may be some tears in the judging room on the night before the Errols – this is a tough bitch of a category.  We invite all nominees to drop by the the Errol offices for a snuggle in the office beanbag to help us reach our decision. We promise to keep our hands to ourselves …. maybe.

So as I said previously, I am not going to recap this game. However, too much awesome dramaaaz occured for me to ignore it completely.

First of all, let us talk about my boys sporting a pink V. Oh, they looked so LOVELY. Just lovely. The pink V has magical powers because one look at Gasnier in his and the palpable rage I feel for him quickly dissipated.

I did however notice he was a total man island in the changeroom. Everyone was totally ignoring him, even his former husband Hot Bitch Cooper. THEY BE PISSED AT YOU GAZ. By the way, Hornbag is totally Unimpressed by your contributions to the proceedings.

Now lets talk about Hot Bitch in his pink V. Ooooooh mama. On anyone else, pink seems to subdue masculinity, softening it into something benevolent and approachable. Not our Hot Bitch. The juxtaposition of pink on a man stallion of Cooper’s calibre was something quite remarkable. The pink somehow managed to make him seem more virile. I didn’t know that was even possible, but it is. He prowled that field like a lion in the savannah. All rippling muscles, manly potency and carefully controlled aggression. Lets not even talk about when it STARTED TO RAIN. It made my pink V really really happy. See what I did there? Made a dirty joke! Because Pink V is a metaphor for vagina. GET IT?

Okay lets talk about Mick Crocker. Forget headgear, the man needs to invest in a helmet for game days. He is way beyond modern aerodynamic cycling helmets. Mick has suffered so many brain injuries he needs help from the 1980s. Bitch needs a Stack Hat.

While we are talking about Crocker’s head, lets discuss what in Gods name is up with his hair. There is alot of balding men in the NRL, but Crocker doesn’t fit easily into that category. I don’t even think he’s balding. This is an entire new strain of hair weirdness. I have never seen hair like his on another man. Ever ever ever. Let us carefully and professionally examine this oddity -

There is only one conclusion. He suffers from chronic hair thinness and has sought to rectify the situation by using hair in a can. Thankyou Jerome Russell! Sorry Mick baby, but you’re gonna have to surrender your hair to airport security when you leave for England in 09. You know full well aerosols aren’t permitted on international flights.

Ryles getting sent off. Oh dear, Gavin Badger…you really are a twat of epic proportions aren’t you? Referee boss Robert Finch has already come out and said you were wrong, so lucky for you I am going to skip chastising you for now. Thank your lucky stars because I was totally gonna hurt you with my words of poison. Poison words!

Okay, so onto the fight. FIIIIIIIGGGGHT! I love fights. I love how quickly a civilised, professional game of rugby league can descend into mob violence. It makes me happy in my soul. And last nite was an absolute doozy. This shit was Origin worthy. It even had stages, three of them. The whole thing still seems surreal to me. Out of all the people to be involved in biff I cannot believe that it involved Tiny Dancer Soward, Flossy Nightingale and Billy I-Love-Pony-Club Slater. REALLY? You guys? REALLLY??

The best thing about this fight was the fact that PonyClub Slater rushed in from across the field to defend his boyfriend Cooper Cronk. Ain’t nobody be messin with my maaaans! (In my mind he’s a ghettofied black woman). Yes Billy, god forbid the tiny tiny Jamie Soward object to your boyfriend being a dirty little niggler. OH NOES!

You know Billy spent the whole time in the sin bin filing his ghetto nails and combing his fierce weave. Trust.

The second best thing about this dramaz is the way Hot Bitch Cooper stepped in and tried to break it up. Oh, that Coops, hes so measured in his responses. No flying off the handle for this perfect specicmen of a man. Oh no. Together with Hornbag he calmly and steadily grabbed players and steered them away from the fracas. And they obeyed him. Who wouldn’t?

My league loving friend Alex (hi boofhead!) sent me a text saying something like “look at Cooper breaking up the fight. He has such….presence”. Yeh, thats totally straight man code for I WOULD BEND OVER FOR MATT COOPER. It’s okay Alex, we all would.

(The magnificence above is thanks to our new account at Getty Images. I don’t want even want to say how much we paid for it. Lets just say when I turn it into a doona cover it will be totally worth it.)

This won’t be my usual comprehensive (ie rambling) recap. My arm is hurty and broke down. I wore the thing out with my Origin blog and subsequent alcohol fuelled post Origin activities. It’s just SORE okay? And typing makes it sorer. But after the crushing defeat of the Blues I want, no I NEED to write about something positive. DRAGONS VICTORY!

Let me take this opportunity to say I simply cannot believe we (and yes I am part of the team) have won 7 on the trot. Like most Dragons fans I am not taking this winning streak for granted. Us Red V devotees savour every victory as a rare treat. Scratch that…. we savour every error free set of 6. We know all too well our team regularly walks the line between brilliant and abominable. Let’s just say if I was lame enough to have a Gratitude Journal I would have entries dedicated to my boys every week. Probably decorated with red glitter and love heart stickers.

Sadly the awesomeness of the Dragons beating Newcastle has been somewhat tainted by some big time draaaamaz. Some Newie residents have alleged that a number of Dragons Army members started a carpark brawl and a woman was punched in the process.

I read this information with a certain about of incredulity. You see every single Dragons fan I’ve ever come across has been utterly lovely. Even gentlemanly. They are the last fan base I can imagine getting involved in bashing up ladies. Admittedly, I am rather biased … but many non Dragons fans I know have expressed the same sentiment. THEY ARE JUST NICE OKAY?

From what I can tell, The Dragons Army are an awesome bunch of people who are truly dedicated to supporting their team. These kids have spirit! And it’s inspiring. Mostly though…a few of them have been supportive of Oh Errol and that makes me like them. I’m easy what can I say?

Putting sentimentality aside, their version of what happened that night just seems to be far more credible. I mean they have VIDEO. This shit better end up on Today Tonight/A Current Affair or I’m gonna be totally devo. They are bandits for some home video action. Anything that makes actual journalism unnecessary they are alllll over.

Anyway, onto the game.

Sassy and I had numerous invitations to go out on Saturday night, but being the losers we are we decided to get takeaway and watch the footy in our PJs. It was totally worth it though. For the following reasons -

1) Hornbag being a pissy bitch

To the uneducated eye, Ben Hornby can seem quite bland. His physical beigeness combined with his measured and consistent performances means he flies under the radar a bit. Not to us however. I have long had a serious crush on Hornbag. Not in a sexytimes way, more in a…let’s get a hot chocolate (extra marshmallows) and read the cookbooks at Borders sort of way. Exhibit A – the usual benevolent, snuggly Hornbag:

Snuggly Hornbag was absent on Saturday night. He never got on the bus to Newcastle. Instead we were treated to a performance from a rare and different Ben Hornby. This version is filled with an unexplainable rage. Anger in his eyes and wrath in his heart. Bossing everyone around and looking mighty pissed off. Ladies and gentlemen I give you Exhibit B – Despot Hornbag:

To be blunt, this version of Hornbag makes our vajayjays tingle. Terrifying yet erotic. Sassy, never having witnessed Despot Hornbag before was overcome with lust and confusion…mostly lust. KIKI HE’S MAKING ME FEEL FUNNY IN MY PANTS, she yelled.

Me too Sassy, me too.

2) The return of Big Dell take two

I have deadset been trying to come up with my own Wendell nickname for weeks, but inspiration just ain’t comin. ‘Big Dell’ isn’t a hateful moniker by any means, but it just doesn’t feel Right you know? Until my pea brain comes up with an alternative he will have to stay being Big Dell.

Anyway, he was fuck off AWESOME on Saturday night. He was a sledging machine and I totally think they should mike him up on special occasions. Like Gilly at the 20/20. Instant hilarity. He was brilliant under the high ball, strong in defence and sweated profusely despite the chilly night.

See! He’s a perspiration machine. I worry about his health, that can’t possibly be normal.

That break he made down the sideline had us on our feet screaming like halfwits GO YOU OLD BASTARD…RUNNNN! Sadly for all involved the old legs didn’t quite make it, but it was certainly quite the spectacle. More of that please Dell!

My favourite moment however was when he rushed up to join tackle a Knight (whose name escapes me) in the in goal. The other players were satisfied with the Knight being shut down but not Big Dell. He kept pushing and pushing till he was violently projected like a rag doll over the sideline. Dell does nothing by halves, bitches.

3) Hot Bitch Cooper in a hoodie

Hot Bitch was out with ‘knee soreness’. I was pissy because what sort of bullshit injury is that? But I guess carrying the entire NSW backline on Wednesday night can wear out one’s joints. They say everything happens for a reason…and clearly Hot Bitch’s knees chucked a fit purely so the seeing world could receive the gift of him sitting on the sideline in a hoodie.

THANKYOU JESUS.

(screencap from FM Forums)

The Friday night recap is a special edition this week. Since I’m staying at Crippled Kiki’s this weekend, you’ll get double the awesome from us as I blog, and she nurses her broken elbow on the couch and sporadically chimes in with bitchy and hilarious comments.

This Friday sees Cripple’s baby Dragons playing the Penrith Panthers who I am completely indiff …. um, who is that? It seems that over the past fourteen weeks I have failed to notice that there is a completely, insanely, tousle-haired, bedraggled hot bitch of a second-rower playing for Penrith. He’s got a slight gut, a slight stagger, slight stubble, and a slight whiff of woke-up-on-a-pub-floor-and-was-unexpectedly-signed-to-play-league about him. His name is Matthew Bell and he may be our perfect man.

See I had this hole in my heart from when Nathan Hindmarsh lopped off his shaggy hair, but now it is finally filled. The Panthers website tells me his interests include fishing and camping, but I’m sure we can cure him of those.

Where was I? Oh yes, the footy.

Even before the game starts tonight has already been some Champagne football. In the Wests Tigers vs Brisbane Broncos clash we discovered the truly fabulous Daine Laurie. He’s two metres of giant man with a full head of dreadlocks, and his ridiculously long legs may or may not be made of Cadbury Old Gold.

Kiki thinks he’s reminiscent of a pre-Rugby Union (as she puts it ‘PRE-BETRAYAL’) Lote Tuqiri.

According to the Herald, Cadbury Daine almost conceded a penalty when he ‘shoved’ Corey Parker. We’re pretty certain that shit wasn’t no shove. It was a bitch slap. Left hand to the left cheek, left hand to the right cheek on the way back. Bitch. Slap. Everyone says so. And Corey Parker definitely agrees because he grabbed his cheek in shock and made the international mouth-open OH NO YOU DIDN’T BITCHSLAP ME face. Gold.

Now, on to the main event.

The Dragons aren’t messing around tonight and within about five minutes have me face-down with hysterics as Jarrod Sammut lets a kick fly directly into little Jamie Soward’s face and it ricochets from his forehead back into Sammut’s chest to a surprised and delighted Petero Civoneciva.

There is actually an audible smack when it hits Soward’s tiny peanut head and Kiki shudders and flails a little bit due to flashbacks of a football-to-temple incident in the school playground in year nine.

The cobras … the cobras!

Old warhorse Petero can’t manage to turn it into a try and I’m unexpectedly sympathetic because he looks completely fucking exhausted. He’s drenched in sweat and starting to sway a little. Not to mention that ole Oak Tree Petero already has giant beige knee braces on both knees and one elbow strapped. Bitch has enough problems. We also couldn’t handle it if anyone else league-related dies this year.

Crafty Trent Waterhouse breaks through the bewildered Dragons to send Rhys Wesser in for a Penrith try. Go Danny Glover, go! Ray Warren thinks the Panthers are particularly ominous tonight. I like to think ominous is today’s word on Rabs’ word of the day calendar.

And even though the Dragons are now 6-0 down, Jason ‘Flossy’ Nightingale JUST LOVES PLAYING RUGBY LEAGUE! As he tackles a passing Panther we are certain we see him giggle in delight. Kiki christens him the Labrador of rugby league, and if he had a tail he’d be wagging it now.

He even looks a tiny bit joyful when he attempts a left hand sideline run for a try and is tossed into touch. Oh, Flossy.

The commentary team are also sparkling today, and when little Jamie Soward and his headgear clean up a ball in the goal area Andrew Voss chips in “Soward was good skill”. Sage words, Vossy.

Phil Gould refuses to be outdone in the commentary box and decrees that the Dragons’ ball-running remains strong.

“It may have only been eight metres but it was a bloody good run”.

Who knew there were criteria for a run on the field other than how far you run on the field? Not I. Yhat’s amazing, Gus. Gould has also named two Penrith players ‘Big F’ and ‘Big P’ and doesn’t seem to care that no one has any idea which players he’s talking about.

Snuggly Ben Hornby goes down in a tackle and comes up with a bleeding eye. Kiki is distraught that her Hornbag is injured, but one plus is that the trickles of blood are making his usually undefined eyes stand out a lot on screen. Ben Creagh’s head was also broken a little a few tackles ago and is still bleeding. Why does Creagh’s head always break??

It upsets Kiki a lot and she starts reminding me that scientists say brain damage is one of three causative elements in creating serial killers. If he also has a personality disorder we are all in trouble. WATCH OUT FOR BEN CREAGH KIDS.

Down on the sideline Andrew Johns has also finally reached the conclusion that the Panthers are looking ominous tonight. Yep, definitely the word of the day on the boss’ desk down at Channel Nine. Except when Joey says it it comes out as ‘onimous’. Bless.

Gus Gould continues to up the insanity levels and announces:

“This is an opportunity for Penrith to pull their pants down”.

THAT’S NOT AN EXPRESSION GUS.

I don’t really know what happens then because I am distracted by Wade Graham who has some of the most beautiful eyelashes I’ve ever seen (that’s not a joke, I really was. Kiki was too), but it ends with Luke Lewis scoring another try for the Panthers.

Flossy looks pissed and it’s really unnerving. Like being growled at by a Guinea Pig. Jason Ryles is chewing his nails and I think that explains why the Dragons couldn’t stop Lewis getting across for a try. Pay attention, bitches. Matty Johns reminds me why I am completely in love with him by pointing out ‘LUKE LEWIS IS A FOOTY PLAYER’. Indeed.

12-0. Halftime.

The Dragons prance into the second half breathing fire and bleeding Ben Creagh – now with preventative tape around his skull – stretches an arm around Sammut to score a lovely try. Chesty Bond Gasnier is joyful, but Ben Creagh and the also bleeding Hornbag don’t so much look happy as they do like refugees who’ve just cleared the crest of the hill and realised they still can’t see the border. Those head injuries must be painful.

Jamie Soward marches on the spot in his little soldier dance and converts for a 12-6 score.

Only a moment later Soward passes to Josh Morris of the Amazing Morris Twins who strides through the defence and sets off sprinting for the tryline. With his long long legs he eats up the distance and dives in for a try, his regulation NRL shorts looking like natty little hotpants on his aforementioned long long legs.

Fun fact: Kiki has named her ample boobs after the Morris twins in honour of her team. I believe that lefty is Brett and righty is named Josh, but you may like to confirm that with her.

Another conversion for the Tiny Dancer Jamie Soward. 12-12.

Even more wonderfully, Andrew Johns makes a joke. AND IT’S FUNNY. He watches dancey Soward march on the spot and observes that as a retired player he has plenty of time for leisure activities, and on his last African Safari he realised this looks exactly like the mating dance of the African Love Bird. See! Funny! Good for you Joey darlin.

Flossy. Oh, Flossy. The next play sees precious little Floss kneel and reach out his arms to catch a falling bomb kicked by Penrith. Only, no catch is made. His little arms stay motionless as the ball hits the ground and bounces away. Flossy looks up, looks down at his arms. Looks up, looks down. Somehow, the ball is nowhere to be seen. And when, two minutes later, he stands and sees a slow-motion replay of the moment on the big screen, the tiny cogs in his labrador brain click into place. I DIDN’T CATCH IT. He screams fuck. It’s oddly adorable. Our hearts explode in unison from the cute.

After a slew of ridiculous penalties against the Panthers, Frank Pritchard (could he be the mysterious Big F?) reels out of a tackle to slam the back of his head against Hornbag’s right cheek. A bleeding Big F staggers away as Hornbag grabs his head and realises he now has a bleeding gash under his eye to match the seeping taped one above. MY FRICKIN EYE!

Kiki hugs a pillow and offers to kiss it better. Clearly she worries not about AIDS. Or Hep C.

In what is surely a gift from God to gay men everywhere, Brett Morris is pulled down in a tackle and his whole, bare, shining white arse is de-shorted in all it’s glory to the entire stadium and thousands of TV viewers. FM Forums have already dubbed it THE BEST DAKKING OF THE YEAR.

It really is amazing. I think we might have seen testicle. I’m kind of shocked.

Soward pops in a field goal for 13-12 but the guys from Channel 9 are too busy showing replays of Brett Morris’ arse to care.

Gouldy crows with glee ‘I told you they’d pull their pants down!’

OK I stand corrected Gouldy. But just this once.

Matty Johns skeeves into the microphone that he doesn’t know which beaches in Woollongong Bretty’s been going to but he cerrtainly doesn’t have any tan lines. He also suggests a shot of Bretty’s full moon as a future NRL ad campaign. Oh Matty, you homo. That’s why we love you.

In a final storm of anarchy, and a cutting moment of indignity, Hornbag drops the ball, falls over, and resurfaces with blood pouring from his eyes like a Latin saint.

In a highlight of the game so far they whip him off field and send him back like this.

Kiki’s being all precious about immortalising Hornbag’s humiliation, but fuck off cause she can’t type. That is HILARIOUS. Best of all is the pure rage in his eyes. Bitch knows he looks ridiculous, and he is Not Pleased with this turn of events.

MY FRICKIN HEAD!

The whistle blows to give the Dragons a 13-12 win but Hornbag can’t crack a smile. Physically, I mean. That tape looks tight. The draggies hug in their fleecy red robes and might I suggest that Matthew Bell come spend the night consoling himself in my pants, thanks.