happy birthday errol!

June 19th, 2009


ATTENTION EVERYONE! Did you know it’s Errol Flynn’s 100th birthday?

Yes, that’s right, our legendary hero Mister Flynn would have turned 100 years old today if he hadn’t you know….passed away 40 years ago. Something tells us if he did make it a whole century he still woulda been drinking, womanising and being generally amazing. He woulda made Hugh Hefner look like a deadset amatuer.

Tasmania is currently in the midst of celebrations and needless to say, so are we! Work Experience boy Lachlan Coote is FINALLY over 18 so he is currently sipping on a guava Vodka Cruiser (we offered him light beer but he thinks it tastes ‘yucky poo’). Intern Danny Wicks is celebrating by back flipping across the office with party pie in hand.

And as you can see from above, our beloved Intern John-John is paying tribute to Errol’s most famous character, Robin Hood, by wearing nothing but a hat, a mo and a smile. Doesn’t he look dashing? We think Mr Flynn would be proud.

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footy double up: burgers and biff

April 16th, 2009

You know when you’ve tried on too many outfits and all of a sudden everything looks like shit and I’M JUST NOT GOING OUT. I DON’T EVEN CARE. I AM A WILDEBEEST ANYWAY.

Well, I am kinda like that with football this weekend. I watched every match … so any recap would just be not good enough cause my tiny tiny brain can’t remember everything that happened. I’m thinking let’s just give up on recaps, eat the last easter eggs rolling around in the kitchen drawer, and do a half-and-half post again. Yes? Sweet. Mmmmm easter eggs.

Incidentally, did anyone else literally have to undo their pants on Easter Sunday? Religious holidays are such hard work.


Make sure you don’t share any of your left over Easter bilbies with Parra, just by the way.  As soon as we got all excited about the Eels boys getting on the Slimfast during the off-season, all of a sudden they’re on their way to being fattie mcfatfats again. I detected a definite … squishiness as they were milling about on the field. Is there a KFC next to Parra stadium? Does Daniel Anderson train footy players the same way you train puppies? With cubes of cheese and bacon jerky?

Roll over, Hindy!

Whatever it is, it’s not working people. Not even Nathan Hindmarsh’s magical mane of victory could help the boys win on the weekend. I thought that Fui Fui Moi Moi’s cornrows might help, but sadly no dice with that either. Although it did give me the mental image of Fui Fui Cornrows and Steve Matai sitting around during the week doing each others braids, which is awesome.

I liked it so much better when Parra were trim and winning things. Although it does mean that when Kiki and I were lolling about on my couch watching Super Saturday and Feleti Mateo fumbled the ball, she got to scream out ‘IT’S NOT HIS FAULT! HE HAS CHEESEBURGER GREASE ON HIS HANDS!’

Mmmmm … cheeseburger.

Actually, I can’t include Eric ‘renaissance man’ Grothe in that, cause he looks kinda buff. So buff that he might actually turn into the hulk if I take the piss out of him again.

That Sassy implying I went to special school makes me SO ANGRY

Lucky for me he directed his anger at Neville Costigan on the field (ie. in a hot way) as opposed to at me (the painful way).  Biff! I know it’s wrong but I just love biff. Especially when it means I get to see Hornbag being a Good Captain and breaking things up and B. Moz being kinda freaked out and just loitering around the edges. Don’t worry! That’s how I fight too, B.Moz!

Clearly the Mozes are lovers not fighters. I say there’s a reason why Nature gave you such long, long legs to run away.  Those Morris twinnies are the Nadja Auermann of footy. When B.Moz made a break down the left wing and the ref called him back I thought he might end up in a giant heap tangled in his own legs like Bambi.

Meanwhile it’s fair to say I was confused and outraged by Jeremy Smith being sin-binned for a professional foul on Luke Burt. WHERE WAS THE FOUL? I usually don’t care much about refereeing decisions when it’s not my team but this was crazy. Sir, I swear, he didn’t do anything! I even started ranting to Kiki about why can’t the video ref just intervene to stop the injustice?  You know, just pick up his special VRef phone – kinda like the batphone – and tell the Referees ‘Oh, honey no, that’s just wrong’.

Because apparently in my mind the video referee for this game was Karen Walker from Will & Grace.

Obstruction! No try!

I may have to start a Justice for Jeremy Smith campaign to clear his name. I will also start a ‘is Jez Smith hot?’ campaign to figure out what the hell is going on there.  Now that he’s not wearing Storm colours any more I have started to find him oddly …. handsome. Anyone else? Just me? Talk amongst yourselves, then.

But the highlight of the game, as always, was Dell. Wendell never disappoints. When he put a huge hit on Krisnan Inu, we screamed ‘WHERE’S YA MORMON GOD, NOW?’. And when the Drags won the game Dell pointed at me through the camera. He totally did and nothing you say will change my mind. Awesome just gravitates to awesome. You can’t argue with science.


Pic. Getty Images

So like we expected, the Storm were all up in Work Experience Boy Lachlan Coote’s bizness like they were with Preston Campbell. They always go for the littl-uns … chasing them down like they’re the weak gazelle. But luckily we are forward-thinking employers and we have been training Lachie in the off-season to hold his own with the art of self-defence; out on the Errol terrace pumping Eye of the Tiger and practicing karate moves.

Little Lachie got so confident that he even went the push and shove on Soulglo Inglis in the in-goal area. Lachie! Starting fights! It was kind of amazing, not gonna lie. All our brainwashing to be anti-Storm must have really sunk in.  Next step: Lachie takes out the Prime Minister of Malaysia.

We kinda forgot to warn Lachie though that Inglis is a massive monster of a man this season. Bitch is stacked. As he grabbed Lachie by the collar there was a look of terror. More training needed. At least he remembered to stop, drop and roll when the real fight broke out.

With Inglis involved, this could turn into a whole new form of jelly-wrestling: Soulglo wrestling.

But the best bit of all – and who thought there was something better than biff? – was that Soulglo recovered from the fight, and before he could get back into the game, had to  re-wet his hair with a trainer’s bottle. HE RE-WET IT. CAN’T LET THE HAIR DRY OUT.  

And for all the Errol readers who like the hair-updates, I’ll leave ya with Anthony Quinn and his new hairstyle: the Krisnan Inu.  Mmmmm Mormontastic.

Thanks to the lovely BS, as always, for his awesome caps.

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footy observations- death cough, B.Moz and baby panthers

April 1st, 2009


Helllooooo chickens!

Apologies for the lack of posting lately. I’ve been struck down by some sort of ghastly death cough and have been struggling to breathe/walk/live for the past week. I am starting to think Greg Inglis might have constructed some sort of Kiki voodoo doll and been sticking pins into the tiny tiny doll lungs. Seriously Gregory, it’s a bit much isn’t it? Just because I bag out your bizzarely oily hair, publicly accuse you of being a traitor to your state (YOU’RE FROM NSW AND YOU KNOW IT BITCH) and loathe your team…do I really deserve this sort of vengeful treatment?

Anyway Mister Soul Glo, I get the point okay? Lay off doll Kiki for awhile will ya? For the love of god LET ME BREATHE AGAIN. Thx.

(Note that is my hair photoshopped onto a voodoo doll. I know I know, I am clever and hilarious.)

Anyway,  am one sick lady right now. Unfortunately last weekend was booked chock full weeks in advance and because I am loyal, brave and generally amazing I refused to cancel anything. Ain’t no way I was ditching Lozzy’s birthday, supporting Sassy and her woeful Chookies and most importantly (sorry girls) … my beloved Dragons returning to Kogarah.  R2K BABYYYYYY!



Ohhh my it was amazing. The refurbished stadium looks absolutely stunning and the atmosphere was electric. Yep, electric. Lets break it down shall we?

1) We had seats in the new grandstand which had the greatest view of the hill (and the footy obvs). It was bathed in glorious red and white, with only a small section of those filthy Sharks fans polluting the scene.  The first try we scored the crowd went WILD and I well….well I got goosebumps. Actual goosebumps. I showed the girls and they mocked me [I did NOT! I said ‘awww’. I get goosebumps during TV season finales. We all have our things – L]. I was mortified until Sassy reminded me of that time when we both got goosies while listening to Wes Carr’s NRL theme song in the car. Yes, we are really that lame.


2) Kogarah is such an incredible ground that Sassy has decided she is going to cheat on the Roosters and have an affair with the Dragons. Did you hear that Chooks? You drove her to footy adultery! We are currently in the process of signing her up to get a Red V membership and everything. I’m not joking people. (The fact that being a Red V member means you can go to after match functions and stalk the Big Dell is only approx 56% part of the reason she’s joining)

2) The demise of Hot Bitch Cooper. NOOOOO! I promised Lozzy an uninterrupted view of Hot Bitch for her birthday, but his hammy made a liar out of me. You see readers, seeing him on TV is one thing….but in person it’s a whole other thing. TV doesn’t capture the way he prowls around the field like he owns the bitch or bends over during plays (hello ass!). It definitely doesn’t capture his ridiculously intense sex-is-on-fireness. [I think seeing Hot Bitch in person is kind of a rite of passage. Sort of like the Bar Mitzvah or Deb Ball of Rugby League – L]

We were all soooooo sad times. Let’s console ourselves with some my own Hot Bitch photography shall we? I took these during the Titans game. There’s alot of ass because we were sitting behind the goal posts. Also, I am a pervert.



Ahhhhh yes. V.nice.

4) B.MOZZZZZZ! Oooooh we are so proud of you baby! We are absolute Morris twin freaks here at Errol. I cried sad sad tears last year when I realised they would be separated (THANKS GASNIER GRRR). My sadness was compounded this year when Bretty wasn’t named in the starting line up for the first two weeks. What an absolute bloody JOKE. I was outraged, as was everyone in the Errol office.  Even more upsetting was the fact a small percentage of Dragons (ones I don’t like…boooo!) fans took this opportunity to lay into him, call him mean names and imply he’s useless.

Well after the weekends awesome performances may I just say – NOT SO USELESS ANYMORE HUH BITCHES. SUCK IT HATERS.


He had a ripper of a game. He was all line breaks and big runs and awesomeness. And….look at that face! It would make angels weep! I think I used that expression for Shillo last year, but clearly it is even more applicable here. Anyway, Bretty is getting another run against Brisbane this Friday night and needless to say we will be cheering him on in our loungerooms. If we weren’t so lazy we would totally hit Lincraft, get busy with some glitter glue and sequins and whip up some handmade  WE LUV YOU B.MOZ t shirts. [And can I just say, I may not have got to see much of Hot Bitch for my birthday, but I did get some Bretty. THANKS UNIVERSE! – L]

Okay, now onto the other games. Yes apparently there are other teams in the NRL apart from the Dragons…who knew!

Once again I watched pretty much every game. Highlights include –

a)  the Broncos Alex Glenn giggling with delight as he scored a try against the Warriors. It was very Flossy-esque. More of that please Mr Glenn!

b) Us bursting into fits of lolz every time David Taylor came onto the screen. BABY OR BREAKFAST BURRITO?

c) The unspeakable rage of Des Hasler. Wow….just….WOW. Just when you think you’ve seen the peak of Dessie’s anger, he reaches a whole new level. Dessie’s performance in the coach’s box on Monday night was a sight to behold. I have this thing where sometimes I get so mad I don’t know how to express it and simply make lots of tiny jerky movements. Tiny tiny movements full of rage. Dessie did the exact same thing. Oh how I laughed/felt fearful for Manly players.

d) As much as it totally fucked up my tips, I was all over the Panthers gutsy win. That was some awesome football. Well done children! And yes, children is totally the appropriate word here because the games superstars were none other than our work experience boy Lachlan Coote and Errol Cutest Rookie of the Year nominee, Wade Graham.

By the way: looks like the Panthers’ Irish dancing classes were starting to kick in

At this juncture I would like to point out that we are what some would call ‘trailblazers’. Footy trailblazers.

Who wrote about Marc ‘The Herb’ Herbert before he even played a game? WE DID. Who featured Kayne Lawton in the Hot Man News months before he was picked to be a God of Football? WE DID. Who discussed Davey Williams awesomeness/hotness literally months before the rest of the world caught on? WE DID. And who hired Lachie and cooed over Wade (and his beautiful eyelashes) a loooong time before most people even knew their names? OH YEH, IT’S US.

So footy players, if you crave superstardom all you have to do is get us on side. Being an Errol favourite is like winning the lottery. Yep.

See you next week cupcakes!

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irish eyes are crying

November 23rd, 2008


Yeah, this post is so late it’s almost redundant. Soz, but I’ve been busy being a Triple M superstar. We are also having some serious discipline problems with our staff here at Errol HQ, which is severely affecting our productivity. Intern John John has been sent to a special Intern Bootcamp for his recent insolence. Intern Danny Wicks is being punished for his insurrections by having his daily food budget cut to only $200 and Work Experience Boy Lachie is currently sitting on the naughty step. IT’S A NIGHTMARE PEOPLE.


Anyway, onto the Irish. Our beloved Wolfhounds have well and truly left our shores and my heart is broke. Broke broke broke. Well at least it was. I think I’m okay now. I’m only bursting into tears twice a day. PROGRESS! As I’ve said repeatedly on Errol, I am not a particularly emotional person. However I am well … I’m kind of sentimental. I just get attached to things. People and objects.

When I travel I honestly can’t bear to pack my precious vintage tees into my check-in suitcase. They must be on my person at all times. Suitcases get lost. It happens all the time. It’s DANGEROUS. My cabin bag never contains toiletries … who cares if you lose your moisturiser?  You can always buy more. You know what you can’t buy more of? Priceless Fleetwood Mac vintage tees, thats what. This sentimentality of mine can cause problems. Last time I returned from the US my cabin bag was chockas and I refused to risk trusting my precious vintage to baggage handlers so, well … I just wore it.


Much to Sassy’s delight, I flew from LA to Sydney dressed in approx 4 layers, including a bright yellow vintage adidas tracksuit and carrying multiple shopping bags filled with hats. As we were checking in, Andrew G rolled up in a silver convertible and sauntered through with one bag. ONE BAG. He totally judged me with his eyes. Bitch.

ANYWAY, I get attached to shit. And the Irish boys were like the finest vintage tee money can buy. You wanna pack em in your bag and take them everywhere you go. Okay that sounded creepy, but you know what I mean. THEY ARE LOVABLE OKAY?

Marlo, Lozzy and myself were so invested in the boys’ success that we travelled to the Goldy to watch the boys play their semi-final against Fiji. What a heartbreaking motherfucker of a game.

First of all the administrators of Skilled Park, in their infinite wisdom, decided to split up the Blarney Army into a million pieces. The boys kept looking into the stands for their wall of green love and NOTHING. And this time we weren’t even close enough for them to hear our creepy/encouraging yelling. Obviously if we were, they totally woulda won.

The boys tried hard. Things were made difficult by the fact it was a godamn injury fest. Mick McIlorum (aka Irish Channing Tatum) made an awesome tackle but possibly crushed his chest cavity whilst doing so. Finn split his head open at some point. Tandy’s nose leaked blood almost the entire match, and Scott Grix had his face ripped off his skull and literally BROKE BONES. It was like the Civil War out there people!


I half expected their trainer to emerge with a rusty saw, a flagon of whiskey and a hunk of wood for biting down and amputate legs right there on the sideline. Come to think of it, that would be kind of awesome. Maybe next time.

In summary, they lost. And our collective hearts broke. Unsurprisingly, we all reacted to this trauma by getting completely and utterly shitfaced together.  But in our defense it was their last night! AND THERE WAS FREE BEER! Well, the beer was free for the team and their entourage. In my mind that meant me. The other girls don’t have the same charming sense of entitlement as me and actually PAID for drinks. Suckkkeeeers.

I also promised a few of you I would take photos, and I did! Except at some point I drunkenly accidentally changed the camera to black and white mode and couldn’t see figure out how to change it back. So you get black and white photos.

Lets break this down shall we?



Otherwise known as Mick Cassidy, Mick-Cass was by far our favourite of the squad. Sure, he didn’t get much game time but he did get lots of Errol girls time and THAT’S WHAT MATTERS. That’s what he will be telling his grandkids about and you know it.

At 35, Mick-Cass is the oldest man in the World Cup … and possibly the world. He insists he isn’t in fact the oldest, but whatevs.  Until we see a birth certificate for Stanley Gene we refuse to change our story. All I know is … he played in the 1995 World Cup. 1995! I don’t think I even had pubes back then.

Reasons we love Mick-Cass –

1) He has a gut but he wears Speedos when training
2) He gives good hug
3) He wears beige Crocs because ‘they go with everything’
4) He is the blondest man in the universe
5) He loves us

We adore him so much, Marlo decided to buy him a gift in the form of some accessories for his beloved Crocs. She trotted out in her lunchbreak and purchased two little pieces of Croc jewellery for him … one an Aussie flag and the other a four leaf clover. Here she is presenting said gifts:



Okay no, this is the cutest thing ever. Ladies and gentleman, I present to you – Mick-Cass and Hot Ginge Gleeson.


If you can find something cuter than that I will switch my allegience from Dragons to Sharks.



That’s him on the left. And yes … that is his real name. Like Mick-Cass he didn’t get much game time but we like to think us showering him with love made up for it. Since the boys went home we have met some people that have sworn he was a tool but to us he was AMAZING. We feel like … Wayne Whisperers.

To say Wayne is charming is a gross understatement. This bitch literally drips charm. I mean that in the least icky way possible. He is also kinda unhinged. The entire evening in the Goldy he would walk up to me, grab me by the shoulders and lick my cheek. From jaw to forehead. Then walk away WITHOUT SAYING A WORD. He did at least 4 times. And it was probably the highlight of my year.

He also immortalised himself on Marlo’s t-shirt with the message: ‘you make my rats tail curl’. WE LOVE YOU WAYNE!


Otherwise known as Michael McIlorum, Ireland’s answer to Channing Tatum was another favourite of ours. Despite the fact he is the surliest man in surly town, his mojo could be seen (sensed? can you see mojo?) from space. One sneer and a ‘hello darlin’ and we were goners. We also enjoyed his retro mid game stretching.

We like to think we won him over. Proof?

Profile photo on the official team website –


Photo taken when with us –


You can’t argue with science.

And now for some more happy snaps from our Errol album!


You’re packed and you’re stacked ‘specially in the back
Brother, wanna thank your mother for a butt like that


Liam Finn shows off his head wound.


Blanchy and Pat Richards representing the Aussie born Irish contingent. We heart you boys!


FM Forum favourites Bob Beswick and Karl Fitzpatrick looking supremely uncomfortable after I told them to pose for their gay fans. After a few beers Bob was decidedly less uncomfortable and began showing me his luxurious chest hair. He reminds us of a brunette Hot Bitch Cooper. Wait … can men be brunettes? They can now.


Gareth Haggerty shirtless bartending. Don’t ask.

And that’s about it. Well, I have more pics but they are definitely not for public consumption.

We had such an awesome experience with the Wolfhounds and the Blarney Army. They even gave us gift packs! Gift packs and free beer! LOVE! We feel so lucky to be invited along for the ride and we want to thank the boys for letting us hang around and annoy/molest them.

Everyone in the team was really committed and we believe they can do even better at the next World Cup. I just wish I didn’t have to wait four years to get my face licked by Wayne Kerr.

[I’d like to add that while it was awesome hanging with the Irish boys, my own personal highlight was seeing Manly winger and Man We Love Michael Robertson. Just like, strolling by at the Goldy, apparently uniting with any old North Western European team since Scotland was kicked out. If you’re wondering, he was SO lovely and even posed for photos with us, which I may or may not tape to my ceiling like I used to do with Hanson posters. – lozzy]

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meet the nominees: cutest rookie in league 2008

October 22nd, 2008

Only two awards left! Can you believe it? Time sure does fly when you’re pitting footy players against each other.

This week we’re presenting the contenders for the Fuzzy Duckling Award for the Cutest Rookie of the Year. This award honours the baby players that make our hearts explode (Please note the difference between this and the Hot Bitch Award, which makes our pants explode). The children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way.

And who better to present this category than Errol’s own footy rookie Lozzy? Like Lozzy, these boys have all been thrown into the strange but wonderful land of the NRL – besides Kevin Locke who is actually yet to play a first grade game, but we care not for details.

It should be noted that the Important Research we conducted for this award led us to piccies of this year’s Rookie Camp, where apparently the NRL like to break the boys’ spirits early on with Powerpoint Slideshows:


John Kite. Oh John Kite. You warm our hearts with your sunshiney glow of adorableness. Who knew 120kg could be this lovable? Not only did he provide some of the most aww stories of the year when he brought his passport on a trip to QLD, paid his own way to Melbourne after playing the NSW Cup – WITH HIS BOOTS IN CASE THEY NEEDED HIM -, and talked about his 4 sisters dressing him up as a girl (And I thought that shit was genius when Kiki told me she did it to her brother as a kid. It’s even better when the the victim is a future giant), but he just really really loves playing footy:

“Man, I am just happy to be here,” he said. “Playing first grade. This is what it is all about.”

“Playing just one game for them would have been enough to make me proud for the rest of my life.”

We wouldn’t be surprised if he nursed baby birds in his spare time.


So we don’t want to brag, but we totally discovered The Herb. He was featured in Kiki’s first ever Hot Man News, where she lovingly referred to him as ‘fresh Canberrean Meat’.

If his strawberry blonde locks weren’t enough to get him a nom, this article would be:

MARC Herbert has no tattoos. No streaks. The kid even moved back with his parents on Monday.

“So, yeah, nothing too exciting,” he smiles. “Although I do grow my hair into a bit of a mop occasionally…but then I cut it.”

“But then I cut it”. TELL IT AGAIN MARC.

Apparently there are no pictures of this particular Kevin Locke on the Internets, aside from his tiny Warriors Profile pic. There is, however, this guy – a Native American Hoop Dancer. Unfortunately not the Kevvy we’re after, but he gets a mention anyway because he’s pretty god damn fierce.

To solve this conundrum Kiki whipped up an artist’s impression of what a decent pic of this fuzzy duck nominee might look like:

Bitch is just adorable, ok?


Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. But he’s your WORK EXPERIENCE BOY! It’s not faiiiiir! Look, we may be a very Serious and Important workplace but there’s just no way we could leave out the kid who thanked all his fans in the interest of equality. Take it up with our complaints department – and by ‘complaints department’ I mean ‘Intern John-John wearing a headset and asking if he can solve your problem with a back rub – your choice of aromatic oil but he recommends Ylang Ylang’.

Plus, those baby blues! AND he’s an apprentice greenkeeper (you know, when he’s not working for us). Sigh. Oh Lachie.


I don’t actually know what to say about Wade, except have you seen those eyelashes?  I also enjoy these pics of him at rookie camp – look at him listening all attentively. And all those apples! Cute cute cute. Sassy thinks every player gets a whole plate each. I shake my fist at whoever left the apple core on the table though. DAMMIT ROOKIES, USE YOUR MANNERS. TALENT IS NEVER ENOUGH…EVER.

WHO WILL THE WINNER BE? John-John is loading up the Fuzzy Duck prize toybox as we speak, and in the interest of not spoiling any surprises we’ve given Lachie a new silkworm farm to set up out the back. Should keep him busy for a while.

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meet the nominees: best skin in league 2008

October 16th, 2008

[In between preparing for the Irishmen’s arrival, Blog Action Day, Movember and in our spare time running around Errol HQ singing “THE WORLD CUP IS COMING, THE WORLD CUP IS COMING!”, we realised it’s been a while since we did an Errol Awards post. So in true Errol style, we delegated, and got regular Guest Blogger Bree to do our dirty work. Get ready to meet the nominees for this year’s Caramel Delicious Award for Best Skin in League.]

That’s right, bitch is back! I know you all missed me, and even if you didn’t, just pretend you did to keep a girl happy. With my return, I bring you a lovely little tale of a little munchkin and his first big solo adventure.

That’s right kids, little Lachie made his first trip to Brisbane … everyone say it with me, aww!! Kiki and Sassy did the obsessive motherly thing, and delivered him safely to the VirginBlue gate and waited, embraced with tears flowing down their cheeks as their little man prepared to board his first solo interstate flight.

Head stewardess Fiona called for all unaccompanied children to report for check in and she took scared little Lachie by the hand and guided him to his seat at the back of the plane. She gave the little munchkin a colouring activities pack, something similar to the one given to SBW and Khoder on their escape flight.

Unlike SBW who struggled to complete the activities pack, smart little Lachie annihilated it in record time and spent the rest of the time chatting up talking to the lovely flight attendants who were, of course totally smitten with our Lachie.

Upon touchdown in Brisbane, Lachie grabbed his bag and bolted off the plane to me, anxiously awaiting his arrival. After hugs and tears all around at the safe arrival of the little man, we made a quick phone call to HQ to inform them of his arrival and then went to work.

Four days later, a few cutesy G rated flicks, and all the children’s sights in Brisbane ticked off the list (as well as all the work things, of course), I bid farewell to Lachie.

Just when I thought the Queensland office was getting back to normal, intern Joel Moon came in, with his bags packed, to bid me farewell. It was a short but marvelous partnership and it is with great sadness that Joel leaves these shores.

It was tres sad watching him leave the office for the last time. Pants off Friday just won’t be the same… ever again. Luckily for me, he is still in the running for the Caramel Delicious Errol, and for him that he has a week with the kids in Sydney before heading to NZ. So fear not kiddies, his association with Errol isn’t over yet!

mmm… caramel

Speaking of which, it is my job to introduce you to the five cuddly kids in the NRL that we all want to make a skin suit out of.

It’s been a grand year for the caramel deliciouseses that grace the NRL, what with Willie Mason going MIA in Origin for … what, the 5th year in a row?  And Scotty Prince breaking yet another bone.

Or Reni Maitua – well he plays for the Bulldogs, need I say more? And Joel Moon who only managed a handful of first grade games, even though he was considered the next big thing by the Broncos.

Oh, and lets not forget Ashton Sims dropping the ball which eventually cost the Broncos their 2008 campaign (not that I blame him, I swear)… But seriously, all this aside, these boys have skin to die for (and of course I mean that it the creepiest most axe murderer-ish way possible).  We love them no matter how indifferent their seasons were.

Me, an axe murderer… Never!!


Blinded by the Blue…

Big Willie (lol, Willie) it pains me to use this photo of you.  It hurts me deeply. The shade of your shirt hurts my eyes.

Coming from the pastiest person you are ever going to meet, believe me making a skin suit out of his gorgeous chocolatey skin would be tres fantastic. However, Willie, don’t for one second think that this means I like you… Because I don’t… You just have beautiful skin, that is all.


If Willie is the Chocolate, Reni is the Mocha of this family of delicious skinned boys.  Mmm, mocha.

Don’t get me wrong, I am definitely not opposed to tattoos, but I feel Reni’s arm full of ink takes away from all of his gorgeous mocha-ness. Bitch please, how can I make a suit outta you when your arm is all inked up?!


pic: Remco Jansen/Studio Ultra

Bitch is fabulous, what more can I say?

In keeping with the family theme, I like to think of Scotty as the coffee with a splash of strawberry. He’s got that gorgeous coffee-esque skin, but that added sweetness, which is where the strawberry comes in (if you need further proof as to his sweetness just check out the ‘Snuggliest Man in League’ post).

And fear not, Scotty’s minimal ink isn’t enough to get my panties in a twist, unlike someone else we all know… *cough* Reni.


Getting past the sadness of Billy’s last day in office, let us concentrate on the skin that covers that bod of his.

I like to think of Billy as the Milo of the family. Now at first you might be thinking, ‘what the?’ but let me explain. Where adults sit down for a coffee, kids have a milo, no? And with Billy being the youngest of our nominees I think it only fitting that he be considered the junior version of coffee. Now don’t be thinking that because milo is lumpy that Joel has lumpy bumpy skin. Because he doesn’t, he still has that gorgeous caramel skin that is required of our nominees.

Now Billy also has a bit of ink here and there. He’s not quite as inked up as old mate Reni, but there’s still a little bit too much ink for that perfect skin suit… Or are we starting to think, given the number of tattoos on all the contestants that tattoos are no issue for our skin suits?  SO MANY QUESTIONS.


The only ‘clean’ nominee of the bunch (Wait does this mean he gets the award by default? Or are we not worrying about the tats? Oh wait, actually Errol gets to choose.  But they are open to your suggestions).

Anyway, back to it, let me introduce you to the last family member, Mr Caramel. With his caramelly skin, and charming good looks… oh wait this isn’t a personal ad… my bad!

Honestly, you can see the picture and I am sure you can all see why Ashton has the caramel title.

So. Kiddies. You’ve met them, you’ve seen them, and now you are just going to have to sit tight and wait and see who takes home the Caramel Delicious Errol.

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lozzy's big adventure: lady sings the maroon

October 8th, 2008

pic: News Ltd/Gregg Porteous

First of all, right now I kind of feel like a bride who’s spent months in a wedding haze and, now that whole thing’s over, has seeped into a deep black hole of sadness. I DIDN’T KNOW THE OFF SEASON WOULD FEEL THIS SHIT. It’s like being given a puppy, bonding with it and laughing at the silly things it does for months, and then having it snatched away.

but whats i do withouts mah boys?

My post-Grand Final winners buzz is totally dampened by the fact that I MISS THE BOYS ALREADY. I spent Monday afternoon furiously checking Getty Images and HotAussieFootyPlayersShirtless for updates on the celebrations, and I think I’ve read every article on LeagueHQ today in an attempt to fill the void. I’M CHASING THE DRAGON. I NEED A FIIIIIIIIX *licks bathroom floor*

Aside from that, GO MANLY GOOOOOO. Not only was my first footy game EVER a free trip to see my own babies play, they also…well, do I even need to say it? Ok yes, yes I do. 40 NIL PEOPLE. FOR…TY…NIL.

pic: News Ltd/Gregg Porteous

Apparently I am also some kind of amazing prophet, because I started celebrating the gigantic win 24 hours before it happened. I just like to get things done, ok? (I was going to say ‘on top of things’ but John John was sniggering before I even typed ‘of’). I think all I really need to say here is that I was refused entry at The Judgy. But hey, at least I wasn’t partying in a wolf mask *cough*

We decided to reward our staff with a little Errol outing to the Big Game – it’s good for office morale, plus we needed a few sets of arms to fetch our snacks/throw things at Storm fans. So on Sunday we all climbed into the Errol Bus (which in case you’re wondering is exactly like the Priscilla bus but unfortunately with way less drag queens. Pretty much the same amount of disco and sequins though), strapped Lachie into his booster seat and then had to turn around when we realised John John wasn’t wearing any pants. Obviously we’re more than pleased to let him run free and nakey around the office, but we just can’t deal with having an intern in troubz for indecent exposure.

It’s safe to say that since I began my GF day vomming in a garden at the Crowne Plaza* (soz guys! thanks for the hospitality!) my perception of the game happening right in front of me was…cloudy. Nothing angers me more than the whole ‘girls can’t understand the rules’ notion, and I don’t want to encourage it, but shit I was disorientated. Was that a try? Is that one of our players or Melbourne? Why won’t my camera zoom in close enough for arse shots? I NEED COMMENTARYYYYYY. I think next time I’m taking a portable radio with me. Or Sassy and Kiki, which is kind of the same thing but heaps better.

But even with a vicious hangover, not knowing where to look to follow the game properly and being pissed off at the general public – not that they were anything but lovely from what I encountered (oh, except for the guys behind me who apparently turned up thinking some teams named ‘stand up and yell at your mate across the stadium’ and ‘hi i’m a drunk who just fell on you and didn’t apologise’ were playing), I just don’t like people very much – IT WAS SO FUN.

pic: silvertails.net

I was so caught up in the general vibe I didn’t even notice how bad the ‘entertainment’ was. For serious, I read the paper on Monday and was like “oh shit, a bbq routine?”. AND I didn’t even feel any hate towards Storm fans – even the girl next to us decked out in head to toe purple who apparently kept yelling ‘Billlyyyyyyyyyyy’ I was oblivious to. Where my good friend and Oh Errol/Manly supporter Bel heard Billy, I heard ‘yaaaaay football!’.

We even, in a rare display of goodwill, picked two Storm fans up on the way there and shared the most awkward car ride in history. I suppose I could’ve made it less awkward by you know, talking to them, but at that point I was still unable to form sentences.

Ok, so it wasn’t ALL good. To the people who got up and squeezed past us about 1000 times to go GOD KNOWS WHERE – sit the fuck down and yeah that is my toe you just stood on. Seriously it’s like two hours, how can they possibly need to get up and down that many times? DO YOU HAVE ANTS IN YOUR PANTS MISTER? Even Lachie was less fidgety, but that could’ve been because we had him on a leash.

Biggest lolz of the day – the guy who tried to fight the Sea Eagle (really, the Sea Eagle? Not Storm Man?), the entire stadium booing Cameron Smith (though to be fair I actually felt kind of bad. I know I know).

Biggest awws of the day – the Beav love obviously, Steve Bell and bb, Des Hasler’s general existance.

pic: LeagueHQ/Anthony Johnson

For thoughts on the actual game as well as more on the ‘entertainment’, you might get lucky with Kiki and Sassy’s upcoming GF observations. Stay tuned babies.

*Please forward all expressions of interest in dating me to lozzy[at]oherrol.com

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spit-shine those shoes: it's school photo day

October 2nd, 2008

Following Work Experience Boy Lachie’s journey out to spy on the Sea Eagles last week, returning  with some beautiful shots of the boy’s preparing for this weekend’s performance of Garbo Get Your Gun…I mean My Fair Garbo…DAMMIT I MEAN THE NRL FINALS, we thought we’d send him out on another excursion to see what’s what during Grand Final week.

So Monday morn’ Lachie turned up with Mama Coote-signed permission slip and Curious George lunchbox in hand, and we sent him off to do our bidding. And not just the Manly boys this time, no siree bob. We made like Bill Paxton and went after The Storm.

First of all, it should be known that the Manly lot were auctioning off a place in their team photo. Unfortunately the auction also came with a Sea Eagles jersey, shorts and socks:

The highest bidder will receive a Sea Eagles Jersey, Shorts and Socks to wear in the photo and keep as a memento of the occasion as well as a framed copy of the photo.

This is a truly amazing opportunity that you will treasure for ever.

Yes, they were asking fans to pay to wear maroon. As enticing as lying across the boys knees with my head resting in Davey’s lap sounds (I don’t mean that the way it sounds, I swear)…not in that getup, ok thanks.

Judging from the piccies Lachie brought home, the Sea Eagles photo day was much like every single one I endured throughout my schooling ie. lots of lining up and height organisation, which Matt Orford should be pretty upset about:

Aw youse big kids crack me up

AWWW Matty! I understand. I was ALWAYS the shortest kid in the class and got stuck in the front row, even when I purposely wore the wrong shoes to avoid it. Except in Year 11 when the dickheads put me right up the top with all the tall kids and I had to stand on my tip toes AND STILL LOOKED LIKE A MIDGET. Orford doesn’t actually look too concerned though – I guess a Dally M medal overrides any height neuroses.

Des Hasler does not find this buffoonery amusing.

By the way, Sassy would like to know if that is bird poo in Ballin’s hair in the above pic. Surely birds don’t poo on a GOD OF FOOTBALL? DON’T THEY KNOW WHO HE IS? Perhaps the bird in question was a rabid Daniel Conn fan and is v unimpressed with the result.

ZOMG Daniel Conn I’m your biggest fan. Sign my wing?

Speaking of hair, Davey’s award-nominated locks were enjoying the sun very much.

I like to think he personally suggested an outdoors shoot specifically so his natural blonde highlights would be emphasised, in an attempt to score a few more points in the race for Best Hair in League. BUT I JUST LOOK BETTER AMONGST NATURE GUYZ. We see right through you David (it’s kind of working though just quietly).

Whilst the Sea Eagles were gallivanting around/not amusing Des Hasler (by the way, you just KNOW the token ‘does the finger in the class photo’ guy was Watmough), over at Globo Gym the cyborgs players were rounded up, programmed to their ‘human emotion’ setting and produced this:

Hmm, I don’t think that’s quite convincing enough for us to believe they have souls. Apparently Bellamy didn’t think so either and upped the boys Humaniser2000 program to maximum:

Do Not Be Fooled. Proceed With Caution. They may look like they’re having fun but IT’S A FRONT PEOPLE. THEY’RE STILL DEAD BEHIND THE EYES.

Just look at this:

How unhappy is that dog? It’s utterly ashamed to be seen with Go Storm on it’s back. S/he can sense the evil.

Sea Eagles pics: Ezra Shaw/Getty Images

Storm pics: Quinn Rooney/Getty Images

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post-weekend intern news

September 15th, 2008

It’s no secret that we love our Errol interns.  Making sure the SS Errol stays on course is a complicated business, and the boys are all vital members of our team (hehe, members).  So we think it’s only fair to keep you abreast (breast!) of all the important developments in the world of the Errol interns.

First of all, we should let you know that Intern Brownie won’t be in today, so please direct all calls to Work Experience Boy Lachie.  Poor Brownie seems to be taking the Dragons’ weekend loss to the Sea Eagles pretty hard.  Being a trouper he made it into the office this morning, but after he had trouble opening a box of paperclips and started weeping into his breakfast margarita we took pity and gave him a mental health day. There was also some awkward tension between Brownie and Manly Fan Lozzy that was making everyone uncomfortable – but in John John’s case that’s because he kept pulling his undies up his bum in an attempt to lighten the mood.

pic: flickr

We would also like to let Mr. and Mrs. Coote know that yes, Lachie did forget his TravelPass today, but fear not – we have already made a quick call to Petero Civoneciva and he’s agreed to pop by this afternoon and give Lachie a lift home.  No, he won’t take him to McDonalds.

In other immensely important intern news, Lachie was tidying up Errol HQ on Friday when he stumbled upon John John’s original Gods Of Football Benefits of ‘Sailing’ draft. It seems John John was misinformed as to what sort of activity he was supposed to be discussing the benefits of. A simple misunderstanding, or a blatant attempt to manipulate our Intern? We just don’t know.

But since John John arrived at the office in a pair of glassless spectacles and worked long and hard at the compy on this project, only to have the GOF bigwigs contort his smarts to fit their own agenda, we thought we’d get in touch with our humanitarian side and publish the original. He can thank us later with his flexibility and muscle endurance.

Health Benefits of Sexytimes

There are many health and fitness benefits of sexing that really help me with my overall fitness for Footy. Not only is sexing a great way to get active while having fun with mates on the water, it is also great for your aerobic fitness, cardiovascular fitness, anaerobic capacity and muscular strength. I also find it’s great for muscle endurance, flexibility and agility!

Building Muscle Strength and Endurance

Building muscle strength and endurance are some of the key outcomes of sexing that are really beneficial for my football performance. There are a number of repetitive movements in sexing which help you build the muscular endurance and strength needed to see you through an 80 minute game.

Flexibility and Agility

Flexibility and agility are also part of the health benefits of sexing. Flexibility exercises are really important to me as a footballer as they increase the range of movement of the joints and therefore prevent injury during training and competition by ensuring that the muscle does not become too stretched, causing it to tear. Poor flexibility also hinders speed which I really need as a winger. If you have poor flexibility and endurance then your muscles have to work harder to overcome resistance.

We knew JJ was flexible, but we had no idea he could be this eloquent. What a bag of (dick) tricks he has.

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meet the nominees: snuggliest man in league

September 12th, 2008

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.


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.


pic: stuff.co.nz

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

SCOTT PRINCE (aka Prince Scotty The Caramel)


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.




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.



Getty Images

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

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

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

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

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

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