Pic. Getty Images

Oh, Martin. How could you do this to us, Martin Kennedy?

We always thought Martin would be remembered for:

a) being a handsome ranga (cause god knows they’re rare enough … it’s pretty much him and the Love Shack, right?)

b) being born after 1980 and somehow still being named “Martin”

c) being an Oh Errol fave – remember when we did this adorable interview with him at the Easter show?

He’s a Bertie Beetle man! So cute.

d) and the rarest of all football achievements, the SELF-INDUCED TRIP-OVER FALCON.

But then he had to play a blinder against the Tigers and tell the media that he’s a Queenslander through and through.

Gotta be honest, that grosses the hell out of me.

This isn’t half-baked. You are either a Queenslander or you’re not and I am,” Kennedy said. “It was only when I went to Queensland that I started playing footy.

“I had 12 months of playing with my mates in NSW but it was in Queensland when I started to play seriously.

“I was born in NSW but my early years were on the farm in northern NSW. When you are young you really don’t know who you want to play for.

“My idols are Shane Webcke and Steve Price.

“If you grow up in Queensland, Queensland player are your idols.

“My greatest achievement before playing first grade was making the junior Queensland sides. All the junior rep teams I made were in Queensland.

ARGH, THE COBRAS THE COBRAS! Aside from ‘miss, did you know your dress is caught in your underpants?’ those are pretty much the most upsetting words I’ve ever heard. See, I can get on board with people living their whole lives in Queensland and growing up bleeding cane toady maroon blood. But the idea of someone who’s lived, you know … anywhere else, and choosing to call themselves a Queenslander blows my damn mind. And makes me feel a little nauseated. All that maroon *shudder*

But here’s the main thing: Geoff Carr (sup Geoff! how are ya?) says they don’t know which state he qualifies yet, but the important thing is: YOU CAN ONLY QUALIFY FOR ONE. First senior game. Not one senior game, not ten. It’s not like getting on a plane and choosing the chicken or the fish. Rules are rules.

Pic courtesy of awesomestorm. Thank you missy!

Amirite or amirite Cooper Cronk?

According to our Errol-fanz, responses to this whole Martin Kennedy debacle include:

“WE DON’T EVEN NEED HIM FOR QLD!”, “Who gives a rats arse?”, and even “They can have Kennedy, we’ll take Inglis back”.

Here’s the way I see it:

If it turns out he’s a Queenslander, then crack a XXXX and let’s all smash a Red Bull and a Stillnox.

If it turns out he’s a proper Blue, then … can we turn him down? If you don’t want to play, you shouldn’t, right?

And if the answer turns out to be “he’s eligible for both and he chooses Queensland like Greg Inglis” then I will straight up cut a bitch. And if being eligible for whichever state you like most is the new rule, I will also then build a time machine and go back and put every player who idolised a NSW player straight into the Blues team. Adrian Morley, come on dowwwwn! Doesn’t matter where you’re from! Just matters that you have love in your heart and a footy in your hands.

Queensland kinda needs to make a decision here. Either State of Origin is heaps important and shit, and actually proves something, in which case you have to follow the rules. Or, it’s just a random game we play and you might as well go nuts and start buying in Maori in the Origin version of Storm-salary-cap cheating. Mal Meninga could even make a little hand-made card and post it to the Crusaders saying ‘Sonny Bill, your wish has come true! You’re a Queenslander, eh bro!’

But if you’re not gonna take it seriously, no one’s allowed to cry when they win. Kk? Deal.

In other Maroon news, the NRL’s newest coach Anthony Griffin has told his boys not to fall in love with themselves after their winning streak.

“We’ve been good but it’s really important we don’t fall in love with ourselves,” he said after naming an extended 20-man squad on Tuesday.

Oh no, no, don’t worry, boys. When he says ‘love yourselves’ he didn’t mean THAT.

Ben Hannant, it’s okay. You can go back drinking your water, it was just a metaphor.

And Sammy Thaiday, don’t look so sad, since it’s a metaphor you can still have Special Alone Times if you want to.

And last, but not least, another man who wears a maroon uniform is in trouble for not keeping something in his pants.

Well of course Anthony Watmough is in trouble for peeing on the Corso. Oh, Watmough. And I won’t judge, because I’ve read the bible, and I’m pretty sure there’s a bit in there about letting she who has never peed in the street at night cast the first stone.

All I know is fish gotta swim. If you have a keg like Watmough in your second row, sometimes he pees in the street. Or calls someone’s outfit slutty. Or turns up to a community event in white board shorts.

He’s just … Watmough. Amirite, Cooper Cronk?

Boring story time: last week I was straight-up exhausted and generally feeling sorry for myself. So we went to see Harry Potter (seriously! so good!) and my friend Eddie brought me two separate home-made snack bags. One of barbecue shapes, and one of pick-n-mix lollies. PICK N MIX. IT’S EVEN BETTER THAN I REMEMBERED. HOW HAVE I NOT HAD THIS FOR SO LONG?

And in an attempt to ease the pain of the off-season here’s a little online pick’n'mix of footy goodness for you to enjoy. A little sweet, a little savoury.

It’s been a week since Greg Inglis settled in at Redfern and apparently while we were all busy talking about whether his skin tone suits red and green (June Dally-Watkins is yet to call me back), things got complicated. Our Errol-idol Russell Crowe went on Jay Leno to tell the world how awesome he thinks GI is, then the Storm got cold feet about granting his release, AND GI got a massive write up in Danny Weidler’s column on the weekend right next to a piece about Paul Gallen taking off his shorts. No one wants to open the paper and see their name next to a pantsless forward, do they?

End result is that Channel 9 news says Souths are worried about GI’s mental and emotional health. The uncertainty is making him upset n that. Well, they say uncertainty. I say moving is a bitch and almost drove me to a nervous breakdown too, so no judgment if he’s had a little cry lately. At some point you just open a cupboard you thought was empty, see a giant pile of clothes and want to die a little.

I guess now we all know why he’s looking so bulky lately. IT’S CAUSE HE’S FULL OF FEELINGS.

And that bit just under his sternum? Pretty sure if you look closely you’ll see that particular bit of feeling is what they call ‘remorse for a late-night service station pie’. I have that too.

Meanwhile the kids at Ad Sense have updated the newest Broncos NRMA ad, which, weirdly, we love.

When did this happen? All of a sudden seeing men in maroon schill NRMA insurance brings joy to our hearts. We can’t pinpoint exactly when we started finding the Broncos endearing, but it may have been the moment we saw Sam Thaiday shaking down a vending machine and Ben Te’o in an apron. Benny and his cake-trolley are welcome at Errol HQ any time.

You heard it here first: NRMA is now responsible for one of the first ever instances of anything good coming out of Queensland.

The only other non-hateful thing they have north of the border that I can think of right now is, of course, the Indigenous All-Stars game in February on the Gold Coast (based on an idea by Preston Campbell, not from Queensland).

They’ve announced the team list and – as expected- the Indigenous squad is a festival of awesome.

It includes fearless leader Preston Campbell, newbie Ryan James (not from Queensland) and his gorgeous silky mane of curls, Tom ‘the Hugh Jackman of rugby league’ Learoyd-Lahrs (not from Queensland), as well as Jamie Soward (not from Queensland), who seems to have grown a truly delightful moustache this Movember.

Sadly, we have at least another two months until All-Stars 2011 comes around. All we can think of to tide ourselves over is the prospect of a really good Ashes series, complete with Warnie’s new tv show, the new range of sweet retro green and gold cricket merchandise at Rebel Sport, and the vague possibility that Stuart Broad and Mitchell Johnson might bitch each other out again. REMEMBER WHEN THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED? AND WE MADE FUNNY JOKES ABOUT IT? Those were some good times.

Michael Clarke agrees.

Pics. Getty Images

Let’s talk Israel. The Mormon kind, not the Jewish kind.

Israel’s interests include Queensland, Mormonism, and driving shirtless.
Pic. Paul Harris

Apparently Israel loves his family, but he also loves rolling around in money cackling manically like Steve Rubell or Mr. Burns, because the talk is he’ll leave the Broncos and jump ship to either the Melbourne Rebels or AFL for a better offer.

Darren Lockyer thinks this shows “his head’s in a bad place“. By which I assume he means Queensland. BOOM TISH.

And I think … AFL? Really? Way to be derivative, man. K.Hunt did that at least six months ago. Also, K.Hunt is a really hilarious name to make puns about and Israel is … well it’s the name of an artificially-created nation state. NATION STATES AREN’T FUNNY. So what are we meant to put on our mocking banners at his last Broncos games, huh? Way to make our jobs difficult, Izzy.

See? The diagram doesn’t lie.

And yes, I am gonna be a bitch and point out that about twelve months ago, Izzy was so desperately homesick that he wanted to leave Melbourne and head home to Queensland to spend time with the fam. But all of a sudden now that the papers are talking about the Rebels offering him six hundred grand a year, they’re starting to seem a lot less charming. Who needs mum’s taro when you’ve got six hundred thousand bucks?

(I’d dump my annoying fam for ten bucks and a bottle of champas, if anyone’s offering.)

The way I see it, Izzy leaving for the Rebels is a blessing. I do feel a tiny bit sorry for the Broncos, because with the number of injuries they’ve had this year he’s pretty much their senior player right now. But more importantly it’d be one less Queenslander in the league, and one less reason for me to get annoyed every week.

Every week I hear someone wax lyrical about Folau’s genius on the wing and in the centres, and how he’s the great Mormon hope of rugby league and every time I start ranting at the radio/paper/television about how wrong they are. Israel is good. He’s very good. He’s great playing outside a great centre, he looked brilliant playing outside a brilliant team of lies at the Storm, he’s great in Origin, but at the Broncos, he’s …. good. Am I missing something?

As dirty Queensland 3/4s go he’s no Inglis or Hodges, is he? Not least because he’s vaguely likeable.

Which reminds me, talk is that if Izzy leaves, Inglis might head to the Broncos. To that I say AWESOME. IT’S WHAT YOU WANTED, ISN’T IT GREGORY? ps BOWRAVILLE IS IN NSW YOU CHEAT.

Thanks again to the absolute champion who brought that sign into our lives. It was one of my all-time Top Ten Origin Highlights.

In other Sea Eagle-related news, the Tele tells us Glen Stewart ran into Steve Matai’s sore shoulder at training and ole cornrows took offence.

Matai looked angry when he rose to his feet and appeared to slap Stewart. He walked straight off the training field.

Sea Eagles coach Des Hasler looked stressed as he watched the entire scene yesterday.

Dammit! I can’t believe there’s no video of this. League-slaps are one of our top ten favourite things. Remember when Daine Laurie slapped Corey Parker? Good times.

But in Glen’s defence Matai’s shoulder is ALWAYS sore. His shoulders are made of the same delicate delicate glass as Minichiello’s spine. True Story.

And in Glen’s defence … Des Hasler looking stressed is as groundbreaking as the sky being blue.

We’re more worried about the whereabouts of Ben Farrar after his mistake-fest on Monday night against the Titans. We’ve all seen what Des can do to a door – CLICKY CLICKY if you don’t remember – and Ben Farrar’s not even made of wood. He’s just made of squishy, squishy human.

Here’s hoping Intern John John’s right and Ben’s just having some time off at a farm, running about the paddocks and enjoying himself with all the other great Manly players of the past.

If not … RIP Ben Farrar. We hardly knew ye.

Talk about some slack blogging, kittens. How long has it been since we wrote anything? More importantly, how long has it been since there was football on? We are not coping well with the lack of footy in our lives.

The only thing that’s keeping me from weeping uncontrollably about the whole thing is that I am currently too exhausted/dehydrated/generally beat down by the festive season to muster up tears. I’m dessicated Sassy right now. With the amount of Christmas parties with open bars and ‘OMG WE NEED TO CATCH UP BEFORE CHRISTMAS’ pub-trips and beers while we’re watching Danny Green fight and Fleetwood Mac concerts I seriously do not have that much moisture in me.

I also haven’t cleaned my house, or managed to face the grocery store in about two weeks, so I am basically living on things in tins I find in the pantry, and amongst several gigantic piles of clothes that look a lot like some kind of hurricane relief drive. HEEEELP! See what happens when there is no footy? I lose my damn mind and need to be rescued by either my mother or the Red Cross.

But do you know what made me feel better? Someone helpfully pointed out this week that Lowes have their new season ad images up on their website. We all know what that means …. FOOTY PLAYERS IN NORMAL PEOPLE CLOTHES. It’s my favourite thing! It’s like when you see Venus Williams in an evening dress. It’s strange and unusual and special like an eclipse, or a unicorn.

And my favourite new picture of all is of Scotty Prince being a dapper and amazing business man:

Scotty auditions for the Wall Street sequel.

Considering that I am currently living in my own festive season filth and have about eight baskets full of dirty laundry, I am considering taking his advice and heading down to just buy myself a whole new wardrobe. I think we all know that living out of my remaining clean clothes just isn’t working. Yesterday I had to dress as some kind of 1970s housewife because all I had left that was vaguely wearable was a selection of rainbow-coloured sundresses.

And while I’ve been living in a state of permanent hot chip and free beer hangover, the NRL boys have also been busy. In Todd Carney and Jason Ryles’ cases, busy freaking me out. Sure I knew they were coming to my team the Chooks, but actually seeing them in Roosters merchandise is unnerving like woah. I felt equally weird the first time I saw Anthony Tupou as a shark. IT’S WEIRD AND WRONG AND I DON’T LIKE IT, ONE BIT.

I’m not even kidding you when I say I find this picture of Jason Ryles:

Jason and Stuart use their pocket flashlight to search for their missing dignity.

MORE normal than this:

He actually makes a kinda reliable looking security guard, don’t you think? And Todd Carney, for his part, makes a really really good pattycake partner. Mitchell Pearce told me so.

Up in Queensland, whenever they manage to find time out from their hectic schedule of electoral scandal and debating whether daylight savings fades curtains, the Broncos have been busy busting their guts to get super-fit for the 2010 NRL season.

They do this by staging some kind of …. Broncos Olympics? That’s totally Denan Kemp and Peter Wallace practising long jump, right? Whatever. All I know is that I really love Peter Wallace’s zinc nose. It’s very Michael Hussey. It’s also an excellent example to young rangas everywhere … SUN SAFETY IS COOL, KIDS!

Some of the boys struggle with the concept of ‘hurdles’

I also like to think that Israel Folau has really settled in with the Brisbane team. Like maybe in the early days he had a few teething problems. He’s sort of a baby still as footy players go, maybe he played up a little, ran off at training when he saw something shiny or a dog passing by, had trouble concentrating. But since they put him on a lead, little Izzy has really stepped back into line.

If you can keep him in the one place long enough, Izzy’s quite the good listener.

.. he just needs a hand-holding partner when the team walks anywhere or crosses roads. His road safety still needs some work.

And in a lil round up of the rest of the NRL teams, the Tigers boys are being cheeseballs over on Tigers TV (I don’t know that Steve Folkes would approve of this break from training, just quietly):

Justin Poore now has HAIR! Must be because he’s at Parramatta now, far far away from Ben Hornby and his Hornbag Clippers of Doom:

And, possibly inspired by Todd Carney, John Sutton spent Rabbitohs training week in Coffs Harbour playing pattycake with dolphins:

Pic. Frank Wedward

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go eat a tin of corn kernels. Till next time, darlings.

All other pics via the awesome BS and his blog, and Getty Images.

That’s right, babies, this year isn’t just the Errol’s Year of Regional Australia. We are also trying to be less one-eyed and lazy and get out to games that aren’t at the SFS/don’t involve our teams. This is tricky, because we already usually have to go to two games, and our friends are already whinging about us disappearing for 26 weekends every footy season. SORRY GUYZ! You’re welcome to come to Super Saturday at Sassy’s house if you like? You can even jump under the blankie with us!

First stop: Campbelltown for the Broncos vs Tigers. Or as we like to call it, C-TOWN! YEAH!

[When I was trying to organise this, Sassy said 'Yes of course I'll come. Now ... where is Campbelltown?'. No shit. Obviously our horizon expanding year was more necessary than I realised. - K]

The majesty of the Formule 1 is unmatched

Anyway, we imagined popping out to C-Town on the M7 for some partytimes at the game, and a bevvie at the Leagues Club afterwards with the lovely Julianne … apparently the Universe had other plans. These plans involved us sitting in roadworks for 2 hours in the pouring rain and missing the entire first half of the game. Then sitting in the hallway of the Formule 1 ($49 hotel rooms! awes!) for half an hour while they tried to open the door to our room. Um … sorry Tigers. Truth is,  it’s we who suffered the most by missing the Troublesome Spectator who tackled Jared Maxwell. It’s not the same on TV.

So instead of cheering on the Tigers to a (narrow) loss while being soaked with rain, we just had drinks at the leagues club. Honestly? Yeah we’re pretty ok with that.

Daaaaamn Wests Leagues Club is pumping on a Friday night. It’s all pimped out with orchids and fountains and young people all snazzed up with their iPhones. It’s like being in Vegas, or something. It even has that vague smell of perfume and fountain chlorine like Vegas hotels do.

Apparently Easts Leagues Club hasn’t really heard about stuff like flowers and piccolos of champagne and … people under 40. They’ve only just caught onto the Yum Cha trend. The highlight of the Leagues Club was Kiki spotting the stupendously gorgeous Tigers rookie, Blake Ayshford (member of the Hottie McHotHots), and getting so flustered she spilt champagne all over herself AND Sassy.

And unless you wanna hear about Kiki’s 1 hour romance with an handsome ex-con, rocking out with 18 year olds, or Sassy’s giant stack that earned her a free drink from the Camden Hotel that’s kinda all we can say about that night.

So we moved onto Plan B. A Saturday evening spent with the Roosters,  Panthers and our Orange BFF Tige at CUA stadium in Penrith. Or ‘at the foot of the mounntaiiinnnsss’ as Ray Warren likes to say. Heart Ray.

Once again it was – to use the proper meteorological term – pissing the fuck down.

Which leads us to ask: James Blundell, why do you lie? For most of our childhood he and James Reyne told us it was “way out west where the rain don’t fall“. This is clearly untrue.

WHY DO YOU LIIIIIE? (PS – cracker of a song though)

So turns out CUA Stadium is kind of fantastic.  Yep, really. We would talk about the actual game, but that would mean Sassy has to accept the fact that her beloved Chookies are completely shithouse. And she’s just not ready to do that yet. Close your eyes and think of the Love Shack, Sassy! We do have to admit though that Jennings is a fucking delight to watch.  We adore all the Panthers, and we did discuss Petero/Shane Elford’s strength on the wing/Lachlan Coote’s toughness … but mainly, it was Jennings. Watching him with the ball is almost as exciting as High School Musical. Almost. We are excited/terrified to see him play in Origin.

Reasons Footy In Penrith is Tops-

* Easy access to gambling. Is there anything better than a TAB in a caravan? We say no.

* Oh wait, there is something better….A SAUSAGE SIZZLE! A snag sandwich and drink combo for 7 bucks. You don’t get this kind of value in the Sydney city limits. At the SFS that same 7 dollars would buy you approx 3 and a half undercooked hot chips.

* The glorious, glorious hill. It ain’t really footy without a hill. You know it’s true. The one in Penrith is downright LOVELY.  Even when we had to buy ponchos to sit on we still didn’t regret buying GA tickets. By the way, sitting on wet grass during a rainstorm = slowly sliding downwards. To stay still is rather difficult on the ass muscles. Thanks for the buns of steel-esque workout CUA!

* The announcer has excellent taste in music. Every time Jennings makes a break he whacks on Greased Lightning. AWESOME. Then there’s the way he plays 50 Cent’s In Da Club whenever the Panthers score a try. That alone is amazing, but add to that the fact they have whacked in a recording of people singing LETS GO PANTHERS…LETS GO to the tune of the song. Best.thing.ever.

(Apologies to Tige for busting out embarassing dance moves every time music was played. We just can’t help ourselves)

* Being so close to the action. It’s so … well it’s old school. So many of the stadiums these days are so far removed from the boys it’s almost a waste of time to go see the games live. Whats the point of footy if you can’t hear the OOOOOOF when they run into each other? More importantly, what’s the point of footy if you can’t see Hottest Bitch in League 08 Nominee Matty Bell stretching his hip flexor right in front of you. HELLO ASS!

And that’s about it. Despite getting soaking wet (heheh..wet) we totes had fun frolicking in Sydney’s west. Next stop – Canberra. Watch out T.Camps!

Last weekend’s footy was a veritable festival of lolz. The Lolz Festival! I would totally go to that. Who am I kidding, I would be straight out performing. No…HEADLINING. Youse are all invited backstage of course. Together we will make that rider our bitch.

Err anyway, because Sassy and I are literally married we have a system where we support each others teams. She has been to the last few Dragons games with me, so this last Friday it was my turn to accompany her to watch the Chooks.  We proceeded to get quite drunk at our friend’s BBQ (hi Denee!) then tottled off to the footy.

To put it mildly, what a crap game. The atmosphere was non existent (sup cricket crowd!) and the first half was like watching a reggies match. The Chooks served up some of their trademark ridiculousness, including a player getting up to play the ball to no one, looking around to find a guy behind him….who was also looking around searching for someone. I squealed in horror and spilt my drink. THANKS CHOOKS. Those drinks deadset cost 15 dollars.

Meanwhile I spent most of the game trying to figure out how to get live scores from the Dragons game on my fone. I gave up and went back to the BBQ, hopped on Denee’s laptop and was delighted to see my babies came up with a win. Not a huge suprise, but god knows I love seeing the boys on the top of the table. I even did my Top Of The Table Dance which is basically star jumps until I get buggered and fall on the floor clutching my side in pain.

In natural light, Kiki’s bronzer looked decidedly greenish

Afterwards we walked stumbled down to the Leagues Club to meet some of the Bondi Rescue boys for a drink (I know, I know, we are such total celebs. Autograph line to left…). After way too many Smirnoff Blacks we decided it would be an awesome idea to accost poor Shaun Kenny-Dowall and ask him vitally important questions like ‘SKD! WHY DID U WEAR THONGS IN YOUR GODS OF FOOTBALL SHOOT? IS IT COZ YOU’RE SCARED OF GETTING TINEA?’

To his credit, he was very gracious and tolerant of our crazy. Also, we would like to apologise for terrorising some of the baby Chooks. Specifically to Sandor Earl for bringing up trimmed man pubes in our first ever conversation.

Back to the Dragons. Sadly Hot Bitch Cooper is STILL out, but obviously Channel 9 read Errol (well duh, who doesn’t) and decided to give me some sideline action to soothe my pain.

Joey - So Coops, how does it feel when Kiki violates you on the internet?
Hot Bitch – Yeh mate…not bad. Wish she would stop doing that heavy breathing thing on my voicemail though.

Tiny Dancer Soward continues to be an amazing human. Going great guns for the Drags, and more importantly for our beloved fantasy teams. His pre goal kicking dance routine is one of the top 5 greatest things about league. Like, ever. Obviously the Parra crowd doesn’t think so, those bitches were all up his business with their boos. Poor ignorant people. Everyone knows you do NOT interrupt Sowie Kapowie.

UM EXCUSE ME FUCKERS…BIT OF SHOOSH FOR MAH DANCE OKAY?

Sassy and I also watched the Cowboys v Titans. We don’t really care about either team, we just didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to watch not one but TWO teams in white shorts. Specially when said teams include Willy Zilly, John John and Luke O’Donnell. Granted, it did take us approximately 20 mins to figure out why the Cowboys looked to be playing in the Newtown Jets strip (hehe…strip), but it was totally worth it.

Onto Monday night footy. I tipped the Bunnies because well… it was Easter. Flawless logic right? WRONG. DAMN YOU RABBITOHS. Thankfully though, this game delivered two things I love: biff and lolz.

The biff was….okay, I wasn’t watching that closely. I’m still not quite sure what started it. But it sure escalated into something kind of amazing pretty quickly. Nothing says celebrating the resurrection of Christ like fisticuffs on the footy field right? We were delighted to see the muchly adorable Benny Lowe right in the middle of it. The man has curls, a sweet tan, great pins and most importantly…dimples. Clearly a new Errol fave.

This brawl’s for you, Jesus!

And then there were the lolz. These lolz stemmed from severe embarassment. Which everyone knows is the best kind of lolz. As the boys ran on for half time, a rain soaked Andy Raymond informed us that Ben Hannant wouldn’t be returning for awhile because he had a, and I quote, “case of the runs”. Oh….my god. As if tap arse isn’t embarassing enough on it’s own, now the poor bloke has to have it reported as news on national television.

Because my brother and I are basically 12 yr olds, we dissolved into a fit of giggles and started imagining if Hannant shat his pants whilst on the field. Would he have to go to the….Shit Bin? Would the ref stop the game? YOU…HANNANT..SHIT BIN! GET YOURSELF CLEANED UP! Would the trainers whack him in an adult diaper, give him a change of shorts and send him back on out there? Or maybe even…stitch his ass up?

And on that charming note, I’ll see you next week.

Screencaps from the awesome BS. Shooshing the crowd joke unashamedly stolen from Lozzy.

Okay it’s official, I am a crap person.

All week I’ve been planning to do the Most Awesome Post Ever on the amazingness that was Dragons v Broncos last Friday. And well, I just haven’t got round to it. I’m sure you are all terribly upset (“I’m not even mad, just disappointed…”) but you’re just gonna have to make do with this shambles of a post.

So now you are just getting the vitally important bits. And by vitally important I mean ‘stuff I find amazing and lolz’.

UNCLE WAYNE IS THE SHIT

Despite his assertions that this game was no different from any other, you just know Benny was freaking out during the lead up. Well as much as he can freak out, which probably entails a slightly raised eyebrow and maybe an extra sip of his scotch and dry during happy hour at the leagues club.

[... or his lemon lime and bitters? I think I remember from the Uncy Wayne Australian Story that he is a teetotaller, although to be honest I was crying like a bitch about 5 minutes into it, so I could be wrong. IT WAS JUST REALLY EMOTIONAL. I LOVE YOU UNCLE WAYNE - Sassy]

And well, he kicked ass. And even more importantly – he emoted. I know you Broncos fans will go to your graves thinking his blood runs maroon and gold, but kids let me ask you this … did Uncy Wayne ever smile this way when coaching your team?

Yep, didn’t think so. Not only is he smiling, but the notoriously media shy Benny is well…well he’s posing for a glamour shot. I like to think donning the red and white has infused him with a new sense of self confidence. Bitch thinks he’s a sexy motherfucker! You just know he’s strutting around his bedroom, practicing poses and belting out Destinys Child lyrics.

Yes Wayne, I think we ARE ready for this jelly

KIKI IS STRESSY McGEE

Okay, I’m prepared to admit it. I was a complete and utter MESS this game. I know I’ve said it a million times but I am not a particularly emotional person. I don’t get stressed all that easily and I think most people would describe me as at least moderately laid back. But not when the Dragons play.

I become a whole other person. To be honest, shit is scary.

This game was extra special. The Broncs have been playing some awesome football, and even though they are totally our bitches and we had beat them in the last 7 games (and now it’s 8/8! yessss!) I was still really goddamn nervous. I guess I wanted Benny and the boys to prove they are true premiership contenders. My Red V clad heart was literally beating out of my chest the entire time. I was pretty much a Warner Bros cartoon come to life.

Consequently, I spent the entire game in two positions. A) lying on the lounge in the fetal position covering my eyes, shuddering in fear and B) leaping off the lounge and performing my patented ’we just scored a try’ routine. Which involves a victory dance that resembles a mutated irish jig, thrusting excitedly into thin air, and yelling SUCK IT BRONCOOOOS while giving the double rudey finger to the TV. God, I wish I was joking.

I am ashamed to admit this, but when Brisbane made that mini comeback just outside the 70th minute, I totally lost my nerve and developed a sudden urge to go and return a DVD. Yes kids, I literally left the house, got into my car and drove away. I hate myself.

YOU BOYS ARE THE BESTEST

Oh my, I don’t think I’ve ever been this proud of my boys. Sure we have won games before, but this one was different. Even Gus Gould announced it felt like an Origin match. That’s exactly how it felt. So tense, so full on, so fucking satisfying.

Let’s do a roll call, shall we?

BEN CREAGH – Look, we are just totally enamoured with this man. He embodies toughness. He never talks himself up, never plays dirty, he is just always THERE. Ready for the hit up, ready to make the big tackle and ready to roll over the defence and score a sweet sweet try. Not to mention he did all that on Friday night with a BROKEN NOSE. Bitch could only breathe through his mouth but did he ask to come off? Nope. It’s all the way with Benny Creagh!

[I think that slogan is some of my best work ... thanks to 'All the way with' Stephanie Kaye from Degrassi for giving me the idea. Am seriously considering making an all the way with Benny Creagh sign for the next Drags game - S]

MICHAEL WEYMAN – Shit has this guy been a great buy or what? Used to love watching him punch on whilst at the Raiders. Obvs Wayne doesn’t put up with that silly bizness so now he’s just channelling his rage into making speedhumps out of the opposition. I cannot believe the man is only 24. To quote Michael K from Dlisted “That is some Benjamin Buttons shit!”.

JAMIE SOWARD – A long time Errol favourite, Tiny Dancer’s awesomness is finally coming to the attention of others. We couldn’t be happier for him! Scored a cracker of a try, had a brilliant kicking game and generally lead the team around like the little general he is. Well deserved Man of The Match. Extra points for leaving his head gear on during the interview. Heart.

BEAU SCOTT – I’ve always had a soft spot for Beau. His unexpected work in the centres in the past few weeks has been a revelation. Best moments on Fri night? Setting up that try for Dell, and sledging his heart out at any opportunity. He’s such a little shit and I love it.

BRETT MORRIS – Yaaaaaaaaay! Do we really need to say anything here? You people have eyes right? B.Moz had a cracker. That try was just….wow. Yet more proof that as soon as we write about someone, their awesomness increases exponentially. Science, just is etc etc

WENDELL SAILOR – Just when I think Big Dell couldn’t possibly get more amazing, he proves me wrong. He is one of the most marvelous humans to ever exist and no one will ever convince me any different. The Broncos crowd booed him every time he got the ball. What was Dell’s response? To score an awe inspiring try and kick the ball into the crowd. The exact crowd that were booing him. HE IS SO FUCKING INCREDIBLE.

Also, his constant sledging of the oppositon is something to behold. I think Antonio Winterstein actually shit his pants. Awesome.

PS – Did you know his middle name is JERMAINE? Wendell Jermaine. Holy shit that is great.

HOT BITCH & UNCY WAYNE ARE BFF

Okay I’ve been watching footy for a bloody long time but I can honestly never remember seeing a player hanging in the coaches box the way Hot Bitch Cooper was. You know, just chillin with rugby league’s greatest coach. As you do. I literally got text messages from about 8 different people like ‘omg! kiki! hot bitch in the coaches box!’. OH I KNOW KIDS, I KNOOOOOW.

Sadly my man Coops is out with a dodgy hammy until Anzac Day, so I had resigned myself to weeks without his hotness gracing my TV. Obviously he could sense my despair so he rocked out some patented Hot Bitch intensity to cheer me up.

Channel 9 ….you better be getting this shit. Kiki says it’s my best side.

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Oooooh hello…. I look pretty good from this angle too. Sweet.

Watching the interaction between UW and HB made me realise Coops could totally be assistant coach when (if?) he retires from footy. Actually judging from his perfect physique, he should actually be a conditioning coach. YESSS! After he’s finished with the boys, the Dragons will be an entire team of Hot Bitches. Oooooh mercy.

A particularly pervy Dragons fan on League Unlimited announced ‘Kiki, now all you have to do is make it into the top 17 and Cooper can condition you….up and dooooown’.

This is literally the best idea I have ever heard. I reckon I can carry it off too. I will be like Amanda Bynes in She’s The Man! Strap my boosies down, whack on an awes boys wig and rock up to training. OH HAI I’M TOTES UR NEW WINGER!

I can’t believe I’m going to admit to this (publicly), but one time I actually got mistaken for a boy.Yup.

Cracked out homeless dude - “Excuse me sir, do you have some spare change?”

Me - “………………….”

In my defence I was wearing no make up, ripped boys jeans, an old baggy vintage t shirt and newsboy cap. BUT STILL. GODDAMNIT.

Errrr anyway back to HB + UW. Did you see them….touching? Cynics will tell you it was a handshake, I say it’s the touch of two men about to invest in a Best Friends Forever necklace.

You heard it here first.

(Screencaps thanks to the lovely BS, he always gets us the good stuff. We love him. Go check his blog pls)

YESSSSSS

SUCK IT BRONCOS! (sorry Bec. and Bree)

*air boxes*

I realise the above graphic is completely ridiculous but it’s how I feel right now. That’s what Kiki’s Joy looks like people. Big Dell resplendent in the Red V, grinning wildly after scoring a cracker of a try…..and pastel hearts and stars. Yayayayayayay!

What an AMAZING game. I feel like I’ve just had great sex. My lower back hurts, I have a headache and I’m slightly dazed…but I feel totally fulfilled and satisfied. Yesssssss.

A full and comprehensive recap is coming soonish (I took proper notes for youse and everything) but for now let me say these names : CREAGH! JAMIE! BIG DELL! B.MOZ!

I is just so proooooud.

And yes I am home posting/boasting on a Friday night. I’m sick you assholes, don’t judge me. Let me just say this – Dragons + Uncle Wayne + 2009 = GRAND FINAL BITCHES.

A special treat for your Sunday night: our Errol bestie (and master tipper) Bec has agreed to guest blog the dirty Broncos playing the dirty, dirty Storm.  FYI: this will be less pervy than we just made it sound.  Enjoy!

Hi kids! I am Bec, sometimes (always) known as Lesbian Bec around these here parts. I have been asked by Kiki, Sassy and Lozzy to step in and perform a guest blog-octomy. So welcome to a very special edition of Friday nights football wrap-up. That’s right, don’t adjust your television set– FRIDAY’S game. The game involving both the Melbourne Storm AND the Brisbane Broncos. These teams are almost never mentioned positively here at Oh Errol, and probably have never been mentioned on this blog when playing each other.

Essentially for the Oh Errol girls this game is the equivalent of having to decide whom they would want to win in a cage match between Ted Bundy and Charles Manson. I suspect they would choose Manson, because that man rocked some crazy facial hair.

So there are several obvious reasons as to why this blog will be different to the usual fare you enjoy:

1. I am neither Kiki, Sassy or Lozzy, nor do I have their skillz

2. I am a lesbian, so the chances of discussing the hot manz-iness of the players is somewhat (completely) diminished

3. I am a filthy Queenslander

4. I am a filthy Queensland who supports the Broncos. And yet, somehow we all still get along. Give peace a chance.

In fact, the Oh Errol girls are my pseudo-girlfriends, because my actual girlfriend can’t stand football. In fact, to portray the extent of her dislike – while I am watching the game, she is in the spare room putting away washing and doing some filing. She dislikes football as much as Melbourne likes complaining about referees. That = A Lot.

This brings me to the game I’m meant to be discussing. After last season’s loss to Melbourne that knocked us out of the comp (I had to read about this to re-learn what happened, because I booked myself in for a lobotomy the day after), the scene was set for one hell of a game. I was excited to see how the Dave Taylor would perform after the recent birth of his baby, who I interpret to be crying because she is scared of being eaten by her giant father:

Hmmm…baby? Or Breakfast Burrito?

Of course, I was also vez excited to see what mean feats of gravity defying Israel could pull off, and I was NOT disappointed. If you haven’t seen it yet, let me show you a picture that pretty much sums up the try he scored:

Is it a bird, is it a plane? No, It’s MOR-MAN!

So with Israel bouncing around scoring tries, and the rest of the players doing their job, I set in for a comfortable, uneventful win for the boys. I should say here that whilst I dislike Melbourne as a group/conglomerate, and find them repugnant during most of the season, I never entirely hate them because they just have so many Queenslanders playing for them, and they are just so good when they are in maroon. This inner conflict causes an uncomfortable feeling inside me, much like what happens when I eat spicy food after midnight.

Anyway, Peter Wallace crossed for a try after the Melbourne players stopped because they thought there was a knock-on. Now, I may not be a footballer, but I would assume that it’s a good idea not to stop playing until the referee actually blows his whistle, bitch. Instead they looked like they were enjoying a game of Red Light, Green Light.

What fun.

Granted, the refs probably should have referred it to the video ref, but because it favoured the team I’m supporting, i’m absolutely fine with the decision. From this point the game became a bit more eventful, and the Broncos almost blew it again. At one point I was sobbing “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LET US WIN!!!”

Luckily Billy Slater couldn’t quite hang onto a catch near the try line in the dying minutes of the game, and the boys hung on to win for the first time against Melbourne at Suncorp since 2006.

On a side note, I’ve been watching Billy on Rexona’s Greatest Athlete, which pretty much consists of him being perfect in every sporting challenge that is thrown at him. Combined with his being the greatest player in league, as voted last year – I am convinced that he is in fact, a robot. I think he was built in the nineties, and the scientists obviously discovered that the neck is just holding the human race back.

Ties traditionally go around the neck. His must be a clip on.

You might be wondering that if Billy IS in fact a robot, how come he didn’t catch that ball?Well, can you imagine if it were revealed to the human race that robots were amongst us?

There were would be terror, and panic. Chaos in the streets. He has to fake a mistake every so often so that regular people don’t suspect.

SO the Broncos won! Hurrah. See, we don’t need you Uncle Wayne (much)! The Broncos won by one point in the first week, and two points in the second week – maybe by the end of the season we can win by a try.

And so that’s my wrap-up, and the final positive Broncos/Melbourne news for a verrrry long time here at Oh Errol headquarters. To those Queenslanders out there, feel free to re-read my post over and over again until then. Cheers.

I am not a woman of particular principles. Due to my continual stories of inappropriate behaviour you may have guessed this already, but let my explain it further. Fear not, I am a lady and always keep my undies on thankyouverymuch, and I would never steal, drink drive or deliberately hurt somebody … but I am definitely not a person who makes Sensible Decisions. Therefore I don’t tend to get all moralistic on your ass, because really … I’ve probably done/said the same thing. And much worse.

I keep my moral outrage pretty much contained to one area of my life … and unsuprisingly, that is football. I will never judge you bearing illegtimate children/drug taking/being an ex-con or even wearing stilettos with shorts. Okay thats a lie I will TOTALLY judge you for bad outfit choices. However my point still stands. Essentially, I am not a judgemental person. However, I will completely and utterly judge you for being a fan of teams I Hate. And these are the Broncos, the Sharks and of course the ever hateful Storm. Ditto for the players. BOOO! HISSSS!

note: not my actual hand

So herein lies my Moral Dilemma. Naturally, no team could ever replace my beloved Dragons, but I don’t want to opt out of finals fever simply because my babies didn’t make the cut. I guess I coulda chosen the Chookies in solidarity with Sassy and Marlo, but to be honest I just don’t give a shit about them. SOZ GUYS.

At first I thought I was firmly on Team Manly (due to my Beaver love), but those crafty bitches from New Zealand have snuck up and stolen my heart.  I is so confuuuused. Anyway, as I said last week, basically I am on Team-Anyone-That-Isn’t-The- Storm. All good, I thought. Oh, I was wrooooong.

This meant I had to not only stop hating, but actively CHEER for the Broncos. Oh my sweet jesus, this was really freaking hard. I felt so conflicted. When Darius Boyd scored I was even more conflicted coz I kept imagining him (allegedly) doing naughty bizness in toilets. And then seeing him in the pristine Red V next year. ARGH. Even worse was watching Sam Thaiday coz I love that fat hairy bitch. Surely a man who hands out carnations for mothers day couldn’t be involved in (alleged) yucky times? Sureeely? I’m gonna start The Sam Thaiday Innocence Project. I will be like a law student from Wisconsin working my preppy ass off to get wrongfully accused death row inmates out of jail. I hope they make a doco and put me on the Crime and Investigation Channel. That would be awes.

note: not actually Kiki

It was big time moral dilemmas. Everytime Brisbane would score I would leap to feet and yell YESSSS GO BRONCOS. OH GOD WHAT? GO BRONCOS? ARGH EW! YAY! NO SO;DFJKLIFJKLFJ!!! *combusts* As if that wasn’t bad enough this weekend I have to….oh god, can you guys smell something? It’s like…fake tan mixed with xenophobia. With just a hint of surburban nouveau riche. It smells like….Cronulla.

That’s right, this weekend I have to cheer the bloody Sharks. As a Dragons fan this is pretty much The Worst Thing Ever but really, it has to be done. It’s a matter of principle. Is this how Roosevelt and Churchill felt when they realised they had to ally with Stalin? Banding together to defeat the bigger evil?

(For those of you who are historically inept – those are the WW2 Allied leaders. The democratic USA and England had to ally with the communist Russia to defeat Nazi Germany. GET IT PEOPLE? THE STORM! THEY ARE EVIL.I really wish I didn’t have to explain my historical lolz, but after years of making History Jokes that no one gets I’ve realised not everyone is as massively nerdy as me. Unfortunately.)

Anyway, this shit makes me feel DIRTY. And not in the Kiki gets blind and pashes an shaggy haired 18 year old at the Brighton Bar sort of way. It’s in a bad way. If you find me naked in a Dettol bath scrubbing myself with a steel wool and muttering I’ll never be clean again…must…get…clean…don’t be suprised.

Lets move on to nicer things. You know who is Nice? Davey Williams! We loves him. Apparently the Herald does too. Today they wrote a whole article about him! Good for you Davey. They describe him as being “94kg of tightly packed muscle”. I would make a joke about wanting Dave to ‘tightly pack’ one of my muscles, but I won’t. Because I’m a lady.

I do however object to two things in this article.

ONE- they call him ‘The Wolfman’. GODAMNIT PEOPLE. HE IS NOT THE WOLFMAN. Everyone knows he is The Hot Pioneer. He rides horses, chops wood and looks sexy times in long johns. He doesn’t do…well…whatever it is wolf men do.

David wished Kiera would stop making yucky jokes about his wood

Listen to me carefully media peeps - just because Dave has a beard doesn’t make him a wolf man. This is why they need us on TV/writing articles/being generally omnipresent. If you look carefully (and god knows we have, repeatedly) he is actually quite hairless. You know who is a real wolfman? CAMERON BLOODY SMITH. That bitch quite clearly shaves everyday but still has a stubble shadow.

TWO- they have totally emasculated him with their captioning. Dave probably posed for this thinking, yeh bitches, I’m totes tough and awesome and a WINGER IN A TOP 4 TEAM. I am a MAN! YESSSSS!

Then they go and caption it “Size doesn’t matter….Manly’s David Williams”

I’m dead. DEAD! I am outraged on Daves behalf. For godsakes sub-editors, he’s already having trouble. He announced on the Footy Show this evening that he is ‘basically celibate, but not by choice.’

Times are dire for Davey’s pants. At this evenings Gods Of Football presentation he totally went the pash on Matt Ballin. He’s like…girls, boys…I don’t even care! For the love of god will someone just PLEASE TOUCH ME DOWN THERE!

He really is living on Toey Island because tonight, in an blatant attempt to get laid, he wore the tightest shirt known to mankind.

David, that’s totally your school shirt from Year 10 and don’t you even try to tell me any different. WHORE!

Anyway, in case you’re wondering, Bal took out this years Leagues Sexiest Sexy Man. Or Godliest Godly God of Football or something. That competition is fucking confusing. We have christened him GI Ballin due to his miltary!like!efficiency! and carved in granite hotness. Bitch totally carries it off.

Hello hot eyebrow scar! My vajayjay is saluting as we speak.

And finally, because we are all about the Warriors at the moment, I thought I would include some Steve Price. Okay that’s clearly bullshit. I just wanted an excuse to post this -

Holy old man hotness! That photo is suprising yet … arousing. Shit, I feel dirty again. Lachie, fetch me the Dettol!

PS – I know I’ve photoshopped Dave + another man + love hearts two weeks in a row but it isn’t my fault. If he stopped doing homoerotic things then I wouldn’t have to. SEE WHAT YOU MAKE ME DO DAVID?

(caps from our fave blog, Steve Price from the lovely kingfish at fmforums)