only 53 sleeps till awesome

January 17th, 2011

Is there any sweeter feeling? As of today it’s only 53 sleeps till NRL season 2011 starts. That means only 53 sleeps until nerds like us have an excuse to spend our weekends screaming at sportsmen at footy grounds or on the tv instead of having to, you know, leave the house, wear proper shoes, and pay $17 for cocktails on a Friday night.

Who’s down with that kind of stuff?

Sorry, who’s down with that kind of stuff OTHER than most girls?

Not us, is the answer. We prefer a $4 meat pie and the luxury of reclining on a grassy hill while other humans perform feats of strength and daring for our entertainment.

This is as opposed to what has happened over the past few weeks, where I recline on my chair at work and watch Australia (usually) lose at cricket. In between, I eat takeaway edamame and bitch about how if the umpire can’t call no-balls when they happen, and only refers them when a catch is taken then WHAT IS THE BLOODY POINT OF THE RULE? It’s only being used like … 5% of the time.* Travesty! It fills me with the same kind of rage as when tries are disallowed for a step into touch by the video umpire even though there was a touch judge right there the whole time. If he stepped out, wouldn’t the touchie have called it? Isn’t that his JOB? WELL ISN’T IT?

* disclaimer: am not mathematician. insert your own percentage here.

I just get so mad sometimes, you know? And you know what helps?

Yep, that’s Tim Bresnan of the English cricket team. Tim Bresnan, the man with the best and crispest Sprinkler dance moves in England. He’s celebrating winning the Ashes. Specifically, he’s celebrating by being a dancing dynamo. Bresnan, you fill me with so much joy. I wish you were Australian. Feel free to wait till you’re about to check in for your flight home, tell your teammates you could smash a Boost Juice, and sneak off in a cab, kk?

Also we seriously have to thank various sporty (and non-sporty) dudes for coming up with ways to raise money for Queensland that idiots like us can get involved with. We’re too far away – and probably too unfit – to help in person, but we still want to do everything we can and give all the money we can, and nothing makes you realise how much of a community Australia really is like sport.

I even got completely sucked into watching two hours of the Rally for Relief in Melbourne … but how could I resist?


Andy Murray head-butting the ball. Pat Rafter being lovely like Jesus. Novak Djokovic playing winners while sitting on the floor drinking water. Rafa Nadal telling the crowd to “BE GENEROUSLY!” Novak Djokovic offering to put his hands down Ana Ivanovic’s dress to fix her mike. Novak Djokovic and Andy Roddick making ass-jokes … when I see that kinda shit, my brain just says yes, please!

No wonder I ended up donating again.

I also learned educational things. Like that Lleyton and Bec Hewitt are raising a tiny troupe of aryan babies. So blond!

And how Rafael Nadal can totally speak English, he just sometimes pretends not to. He’s the Fui Fui Moi Moi of tennis!

My only hope is that Fui is one of the Parramatta players who head up to Queensland tomorrow to help first hand with flood relief. You need giant objects moved? You need this man.

We also hope that Mark ‘Piggy’ Riddell, his lady and his new little baby (piglet?) are doing well.

disclaimer:may not be actual child in question.

And if you now need to close this window, well, why don’t you open this one?

Tennis pics: Getty Images


errol’s 12 days of christmas: day four

December 16th, 2010

On the fourth day of Christmas

Oh Errol gave to me

Some photos that are funnnnyyyy

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!


roosters vs eels recap: in todd we trust

August 4th, 2010

Pic. Getty Images

We’re resurrecting an Errol tradition – the footy recap! So for any of you who actually have lives and missed the Roosters vs Eels game on Saturday night – aka the GAME OF THE ROUND, BITCHES – you can experience all the magic right here.

So the game’s over at Parra Stadium, which means two things.

1. The Eel mascot will make an appearance, which is one of our favourite things.  You know when he puts his tail between his legs, like a … ? Well, you know. He’s wildly inappropriate and totally not PG and this amuses us greatly.

2. The Eel’s mascot girlfriend will also make an appearance, which without fail makes me want to die. Seriously, a MASCOT has a better love life than me. Shit is dire.

As the Roosters run out I would like to remind you all that YES we do have the shortest shorts in the league and you all fucking love it. Brian Smith is rocking jeans and sneaks like ‘WHAT UP? I’M A COOL DAD’.

Fui Fui Moi Moi’s all corn-rowed and running out with the starting side which I think means the Eels mean business. He’s the human equivalent of a floor-length leather trenchcoat. He also has hamstring tape all up the back of his leg, and instead of the usual two-strap wishbone style it’s about eight pieces of tape. This is obviously because his legs are enormous.

The Chooks take the first set and within three minutes they’re within ten metres of the tryline. It only takes two more sets and M.Aubs runs for the line, hits a hole and busts through beautifully to ground the ball like a red-white-and-blue dynamo. MAAAUBS!

While Todd Carney’s lining up the conversion, Kiki rings me to dicuss how much on a scale of 1 to 10 we adore Maubs (it’s totally 10), and how much he’s realised his potential this season. She says his runs through the line and in open space remind her of Ben Creagh. I rant about how much I love his positioning in support when the halves have the ball and his pretty strawberry-blond hair and call him ‘the new Steve Menzies,’ which she’s maybe not quite convinced of.

Uncanny, no?

Todd ‘Hotpants’ Carney bends forward to take the kick and Kiki predicts the short-shorts are going to end in disaster. “I think it’s only a matter of time until we see a testicle.”

Jarryd-with-a-Y Hayne, in his current incarnation as the Hayne-Plane, looks pissed.

[Note from Sassy’s stepdad: He’s a COM-PLAIN.]


Parra are having no luck, Feleti Mateo loses the ball, there’s some niggle afoot and the Roosters move into attack again. Hotpants Carney throws a magical cut-out pass to Sam Perrett who pops it back to Shaun Kenny-Dowall for a try. Or as we like to call him, PINK MAAAAN! So rosy! So fast!

And as far as we can tell, the Pink Man nickname is catching on. People all over the world, from all eras, at costume parties and even in cartoons are paying tribute to NRL’s Pink Man. He’s a cult hero!

The Roosters look so dangerous I may faint. I’m swooning all over the place at how well the forward pack are playing. Ryles! Myles! Kennedy! I’d marry you all right now!

They play through the middle and Mitchell Pearce throws an offload of beauty to Minichiello for a try. I am DYING. Jarryd-with-a-Y does not so much resemble a plane as something Medieval covered in spikes that they used to torture infidels. He looks even angrier than before.

At least I think he looks angry. On the next set Parra do some weird shit that makes me think they didn’t know it was the last tackle, so maybe all of them, including Jarryd-with-a-Y are just confused?

I would like to suggest that, to help with his confusion, Jarryd-with-a-Y might like to consult the safety card in his seat pocket. If he does, he will see that if he’s looking for a try, a line of red, white and blue players will show him how it’s done.

Welcome to Roosters Air! Where hotpants are just part of the uniform.

There’s some push’n’shove between Frank-Paul Nuuausala and Justin Poore. The Roosters give away about six straight penalties until Parra finally make it through for a Jarryd-with-a-Y try. UGH. STUPID PLANE ARMS. GOD. STAB STAB.

Wait, where was I?

Parra kick to the Chooks’ line and for some reason, instead of playing at it, every single man just stands around and discusses whether they prefer Johnathan Cainer or Mystic Medusa’s horoscopes while the ball bounces. Kane Linnett (hi Kane! We remember you fondly from the Jets!) is the first to put down his chai and grab the ball, then sprints downfield, offloading at the last second to Phil Graham for a try.

Kiki rings me and we both admit we actually had goosebumps on our forearms. If we weren’t ladies, we would probably also have actual footy-induced boners. Amazing! Hotpants gets his fourth conversion. Four for you Todd Carney! You go Todd Carney!

Finally the Eels do something. A Tim Tam Tahu break from Plane pass, a Hotpants Carney intercept, Sam Perrett loses the ball, I think I’m having a stroke, and Hindy runs 30 metres to score. Oh Hindy, we love you more than life. Do you know what you should do it you love Hindy too?


In the second half, I won’t lie, I lost my mind a bit. All my notes say is this:

is todd adjusting his crotch tape in the middle of the field?

shit kane might be injured.

how good does todd look now he’s given up booze? so lean! so youthful!

adamson is ranting about “the passing and the christmas” is he drunk?

fuck me carney incredible spiral pass dead of joy.

are the short shorts a tribute to ronnie palmer? miss u, love u ronnie.

joel reddy dives over can’t see what happens cause 3 chooks. ref says held up. joel reddy is BLOWING UP like woah.

whee it’s proof you only have to wait three weeks to get a lucky refereeing decision.

hayne is he trying to start a fight??? he’s a war plane! throws a massive tantrum about … I have no idea. but it’s lolz.

oh god ANOTHER penalty oh god oh god oh god. penalty count is 11-4 FUCK ME.

roosters finally back in attack, their defence has been awesome. tim mannah is cycling and it’s cute.

imagine how dangerous skd could be if his passes were more reliable??

The Hayne plane is having difficulties.

wow. wow. eels look like they want to die.

HAHA brian smith just gave thumbs up to the camera

he goes up to fui to say well played, naaaw.

oh shit I think d morts is crying. that’s sad.

I know, I know, I sound functionally illiterate. But if you read that really REALLY loudly, it’s just like watching a game with me. End result 48-12.

And now I’ll leave you with my boys being adorable winners in the locker room.



the storm, speedboats and shouting at strangers

April 27th, 2010

It’s time for an Errol public service announcement. Things have been rough since the news of the Melbourne Storm scandal broke. Last week, when Kiki’s Iranian dentist innocently asked her to explain all this complicated Melbourne Storm money-business, she only got through a sentence before literally tearing up in the chair. IT WAS EMOTIONAL, OK?

When you love footy, and have an inexplicable love for David Gallop like we do – he’s just really comforting, you know? – the whole incident and the aftershocks that it’s putting through the game are tres upsetting.

We already said last week that we know there is no punishment, either letting the Storm play, or forbidding them to play, that’s fair on the game and the other teams. So why the hate for the NRL? They’re just doing their best in a massive unpleasant shitstorm. At the ANZAC day Roosters vs Dragons game, Kiki caught at least three Roosters fans booing David Gallop and was so annoyed she had to step in.


We just have a lot of feelings. And one of those feelings is now anger, that people are prolonging the whole gross cheaty mess by blaming the NRL for ruining the game. What about, um …. the people that actually cheated?

There’s footage of Brian Waldron in 2007 talking about how necessary the salaray cap is. Those aren’t the words of someone who thinks the cap is unfair and hates that it’s driving him to cheat and be generally evil, which is what some people are implying. If the Storm thought the cap was so unfair, wouldn’t they have said SOMETHING publicly in the last five years? God knows they have the media profile to do it. They could’ve told the whole nation after they won one of their two billion games.

But obviously the people pulling the scam didn’t care about the cap being unfair or changing the game, they just wanted to win. You can’t undo that kinda deception.

The Raiders like to have all their Important Salary Cap discussions in the pool. Joel Thompson wants to know why the NRL hates third parties so much. He loves parties!

We feel sorry for the fans and for anyone who had no idea what was going on, but that doesn’t mean the club as a whole didn’t cheat. Sometimes, like Wendell with the coke, you just have to take your medicine, make the best of it, and move on.

He could’ve easily said “BUT EVERYONE IN SYDNEY DOES COKE” (true), instead he took the two years off and went back to reggies. Just one of the many reasons we think he’s an awesome human.

We don’t wanna see the Storm disappear, but doesn’t it seem a bit tacky and spiteful to turn it into the Storm vs everyone else? Rugby League is like a family, which is why the cheating hurt so much. So shouldn’t it be the whole RL community against cheaters, not us vs the Storm?

Why don’t you share the love, Cooper Cronk?

You know how shit it is that the Storm have to play for nothing? It’s also pretty shit for every team who already lost points this year to a team in breach of the salary cap (at this point Kiki yells LIKE THE DRAGONS) and every team who has to lose points through the year for a team that can’t even get in the Grand Final.


So how about we all have a big fuck-off group hug and enjoy some comedy?

As part of their Important Investigationz, the Daily Telegraph have special exclusive spy pics and information about Greg Inglis’ GARAGE OF LIES.

Oh yes, apparently that’s Greg Inglis, pictured right, opening his garage.

You can’t beat that kind of journalistic brilliance. It’s a man opening a garage! And best of all, it’s not even a man opening a garage, OR Greg Inglis. It’s two random dudes standing next to a boat. Oh, telegraph.

Allegedly, GI was paid his salary, but also given a sweet $30,000 speedboat and …. wait for it …. a HARVEY NORMAN VOUCHER. OH, THE HUMANITY! That shit is like the Mafia, huh?

First of all, can you believe Inglis has a speedboat? After watching that infamous bloopers reel –

(in fact, we may have watched it about twenty times, cause that shit is hilarious. Make sure to check out Jarryd-with-a-Y at 1:30 for some awesome lolz).

Passenger: GI, isn’t that another boat to port side? Doesn’t it have right of way?

Greg: ………. what?

Is there even any open water in Victoria? Does he take it out on the Yarra? Or does he just use it for storage?

More importantly, when it comes to million-dollar fraud, we love thinking that all top-notch fraudsters bribe people with gift vouchers for whitegoods and stereo headphones.

After all, as Casey on twitter pointed out, “everyone needs a kettle to go with their speedboat”.

Now let’s have a guess how GI spent the rest of his allegedly fraudulent voucher.

Kiki is convinced he splashed out on a schmick new “Cheeky Massage Chair“. It does foot massage, kneading, rolling, shiatsu, AND tapping. He’s an athlete, he needs to keep his muscles supple!

Meanwhile we know he didn’t buy the George Foreman Steamer. Have you seen his gut?

And it hasn’t just been a trying time for Storm fans, and fans of bein’ honest n that.

Manly were also beaten at the last minute by the Titans last night … at Brookvale. I know, we were shocked too.

We would like to send our condolences to Ben Farrar’s family and friends. We’re sure Des will confess and lead police to the body at some point if they offer him a large enough sentence reduction.

So to ease the Eagles fans’ and the Farrar family’s pain, we give you:

It’s Ken-Doll Ballin! Now complete with shimmery new disco Euro-trunks. Think of it the Ken Doll for those who love foam parties in Ibiza and rubbing oil on themselves in public. Rock on, Bal.

And now, we leave you with the soothing sight of Fui Fui Moi Moi in his undies. He cares not for swimwear. Love and kisses, Kiki and Sassy.