Hi Errol friends. Hope you’re enjoying your daily dose of footy lolz. Our new e-best friend Kate tells us that yesterdays post made her friend cry from laughing at work and now his workmates think he’s a crazy person. This makes me proud. Next time I’ll post some half naked boys and then his colleagues can think he likes the dudes. Sweet.
Today I have the Worst Headache Ever and the only thing my brain can cope with is a) checking my hard drive for funny footy photos and b) posting them for you guyz. ENJOY!
Struggling after the first full week since the NRL season ended? Believe me, we are too. Two nights ago I dreamed Tim Mannah dressed up as Aladdin and came with me to a costume party. TRUE STORY. He was wearing the vest and the fez and everything (I was dressed as Jasmine). I took this as a sign from the universe that we needed a way to distract ourselves until the Four Nations started.
Best way to distract ourselves? With everyone’s favourite pointless and slightly offensive awards: the Errols. *
* in no way endorsed by the Estate of Mr. Flynn.
Today, we’re revealing the first category of the 2010 Oh Errol Awards, and asking you to vote for who you think should take it out. There’ll be a new category up every day this week and the big announcement for the lucky winners will be out next Friday. I know, I know, it’s too exciting for words. Intern John-John refuses to even consider that he won’t take something out and is currently practising his acceptance speeches in the powder room mirror. So before he starts making out with himself again, let’s hit the first category, one that’s very dear to our hearts.
THE MR. CELLOPHANE AWARD FOR THE MOST OVERLOOKED MAN IN LEAGUE
And while I was googling to find the YouTube clip of John C. Reilly singing it, I also found this little piece of internet magic:
OH, DRUNK FRAT BOYS YOU MAKE ME SMILE. But without further hilarious, cling-wrapped homo ado, let’s get down to the nominees.
BEN “HORNBAG” HORNBY
Also fondly known as Captain Courageous by the Dragons faithful. Hornbag is the reigning premiership-winning Captain. He’s a halfback, a general, a stoic. He’s played 85 billion games. In the Grand Final he was brilliant on his feet, his passing was on song and he made some damaging breaks. He was also that dude who held up the trophy at the end.
And do you know who knows these facts? No one outside the Illawarra region. Straight up, Hornbag could appear on a most wanted poster at NRL headquarters and no one would turn him in because he’s Mr. Cellophane in a red and white training tracksuit. As our resident Dragons fan Kiki would say: “just because he’s pale like milk and his eyelashes/eyebrows/facial hair are invisible from a distance!” That’s no reason to forget Captain Courageous. So let’s all take a moment to say as one: WE SEE YOU, HORNBAG.
MICHAEL “WANG DANCE” ROBERTSON
Oh, Robbo. There’s a certain irony in the fact that the most notorious thing Robbo has ever done was dance naked on national television with his head cut out of screen. What a metaphor for his relationship with the public. Remember when he scored a hattrick of tries in the Grand Final thrashing of the Storm? Yeah, no one else remembers either. And when he offloaded to give teammate Steve Menzies a fairytale farewell final moment instead of taking it himself? Again, no one else does, so don’t feel guilty. Robbo’s the Barbara Hershey to Dave Williams’ Bette Midler, the Jan Brady to his Marcia. I even wrote a post about it, which I assume no one remembers either.
SCOTT “SNUGGLIEST MAN IN LEAGUE” PRINCE
One question: what the HELL does Scott Prince have to do to get back in a rep side? He’s either the second or third best halfback in league along (depending on your personal persuasion) along with Johnathon Thurston and Cooper Cronk. He took home a Dally M award for halfback of the year. But even with JT hobbling around on crutches he can’t get a run in the Maroons or Kangaroos squads. It’s a TRAVESTY. What gives, selectors? Even Prince Scotty the Caramel’s brilliant on-field arguments with referees have taken a back seat this year to Robbie Farah, JT, Cooper Cronk and the bitch-tastic Braith Anasta.
I won’t lie, there was a point – about 15 minutes into the second half of the grand final – where I cried. Not snotty Marley and Me-type crying. It was more a general Brett Morris-esque welling. I promised Kiki before the game that I wouldn’t weep, and I was determined to keep my promise. I’m nothing if not really petty and really stubborn.
I WASN’T CRYING! I JUST HAVE A WELLING PROBLEM!
By that point, all was lost and I knew it and it was heartbreaking. More than once I wished I was watching the game at home so at least I’d be able to listen to Rabs Warren commentate. His voice is just really comforting, and boy did I need comfort. Then Flossy Nightingale scored his second try and I got beer all done the back of my 2009 wooden-spoon jersey from over-excited Dragons fans and the sheer cold shock of being covered in mid-strength beer (they were fresh ones) snapped me back from the crying abyss.
So here’s how the game went down from our seats in the stratosphere.
The view from our seats: I should’ve known this was a bad omen.
SO MANY DRAGONS FANS. Those bitches was everywhere! And who was surprised? After last year, they had to Believe. Their team just had to transfer their skills into the finals series. On the other hand, as a Roosters fan, there’s a reason I didn’t have tickets: Because I’m not insane. I’m only that much of an optimist when I’m drunk or take a knock to the head.
I was expecting maybe … seventh or eighth for my boys. Knocked out first or second round of the finals at best. You know, something respectable, but not excessive. Something to inspire them to keep going for next year. Little did I know that Brian Smith – teeny tiny Smithy of the soothing voice and the dry, dry jokes – was a Rooster-whisperer and my team would start pulling Tigers-2005-style wins off as the season went on. It was like coming out of a hellish breakup (also knownas 2009) fat, acne-covered and depressed, and all of a sudden realising you’ve met the most perfect guy EVER. I was shocked and amazed and delighted.
Is it sad that I’m comparing my footy team to a boyfriend? Probably. But considering I spend Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday nights with football, it’s pretty accurate.
In the end, it turned out the 2010 Roosters/my new boyfriend weren’t going to have the whole fairytale package. They lost the grand final/he snores … but whatever. They made me happy, and I’m proud. And here’s why I think my babies couldn’t pull it off and Kiki’s dragons could.
GRAND FINALS NEED GRAND FINAL PERFORMANCES. I’m looking at you, Jason ‘Flossy’ Nightingale. The Dragons left-side is always their go-to attack side (shout out to Brett Morris for making the Kangaroos side again!) but with Gasnier back they started moving the ball to Flossy on the right wing, and the Roosters were too tired/demoralised to keep him out. Flossy you little gun! We always believed in you! It totally helped that he wore his lucky boots: those black ones that make it look like he’s a little kid who forgot his boots and had to play in school shoes. Maybe he could get sponsored by Clarks?
Truthfully, we thought he’d take the Churchill medal, but it turns out Joyce still really loves fullbacks (remember her lolz quotes about Billy Slater?), and I’m pretty sure Flossy doesn’t give a shit anyway cause he’s a grand final-winner.
Instead, we got to see Darius Boyd give one of the most unintentionally nerdy speeches ever when he accepted the Clive Churchill. It started with him standing around awkwardly and yelling ‘WOOO!’ and ended with him saying “now let’s go party!” like an American frat boy. Oh, Darius. It was an appropriate speech to hear when the Whitest Team in the NRL had just won a grand final.
Darius bringin cool back to the locker room whut whut
(For the record, not saying they’re white supremacists n stuff, just that they’re literally WHITE. B.Moz, Hornbag, Benny Creagh, you see where I’m going. There’s a lot of milk in the Dragons fridge and not much coffee).
WHAT’S THAT WAYNE BENNETT QUOTE ABOUT A CHAMPION TEAM NOT A TEAM OF CHAMPIONS? Cause yeah … that. I thought Floss was the best on the field and the most improved on the field but I wouldn’t fault any of the others, bar a few rain-related mistakes. Dean Young killed it. Jeremy Smith killed it, while looking like even more of a complete babe than usual.
Exhibit A. Dean Young congratulates Jeremy Smith on winning a non-tainted premiership and being a dirty spunk.
Weyman killed it, while he was on the field. Which reminds me, I refuse to believe Daniel Conn came in with a swinging arm until I see it. I also plan to never watch the replay, so Daniel Conn is innocent. The end. QED.
And lastly, TWO HOOKERS ARE BETTER THAN ONE. At least that’s what Charlie Sheen says. Boom tish! With the beauty of hindsight, 80 minutes of Jake Friend was no match for Dean Young and Nathan Fien. They were too sharp and speedy and his defence got too soft. Sad but true. I wouldn’t say any of my boys had shockers. They just didn’t bring the spark: they were a six when – at times this year – they’ve been a nine. Two words: next year.
Oh, and maybe a few more words: STILL FEEL KINDA PISSY YOU DIDN’T COME TO THE ROOSTERS, WAYNE. HMPH.
Wanna know WHAT WE DID?
The UDL really brings out Yassy’s classy side.
Through a massive stroke of luck, we had tickets to the game, and the always fabulous Yasmin came with us, even though her two favourite players Moonie Vanoodie and Jarrod Yee-Hah weren’t playing. It probably helped that she has dirty crushes on Todd Carney and Ben Creagh, though. She sat between us, and even let me lay my head on her shoulder in despair in the second half. Usually she doesn’t much care for being touched, so thank you Yas!
After the game, while the Indian Roosters fan in front of us openly wept and was consoled by his girlfriend, we decided the best way to celebrate Kiki’s win, drown my sorrows and avoid train queues was to head to the Olympic Park pub and drink UDLs and dance to a covers band. Nothing cures sadness like dancing to Footloose and some comforting hugs from random Roosters fans and kindly Dragons while Kiki can-can dances around the pub. The general theme of the night from Drags fans was: BUT YOU GUYS DID SO WELL THIS YEAR! CONGRATULATIONS!
Kiki’s Grand Final headpiece (she made it herself!) both entertained and confused drunk people.
Next stop: The Beach Road Hotel for Kiki to gloat at Roosters fans. The only problem was that everyone there was so pissed they thought she was wearing Roosters colours.
And lastly: a drink and a pizza with our mate Shorto from the Jacksonville Axemen. Love you Shorto! Say hi to your dad for us!
I can’t express how much I adore every single Rooster for rebuilding us back into a team to be proud of this year. They finished second but it’s not enough of a reward for everything they did. All I can say is that seeing this broke my heart. It hurt even more than seeing Fitzy leave for the English Super League with a wooden spoon and a 16-point loss to the Cowboys, urgh.
And just as I was about to fume about Mark Gasnier sailing back in to get a Premiership ring, he stepped in to comfort Frank-Paul the Wrecking Ball:
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.
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:
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.
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.
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.**
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.
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)
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.
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
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.