So the NRL launch this week didn’t just involve your team captains standing awkwardly in front of Sydney landmarks. It also involved a Brand New NRL ad. It has everything you could want, if what you want is lady-farmers, a sculptor, an old man at a busstop and stuff about FEELING ALIVE. Comment and tell us what you think, why don’t ya?

Alternatively, if you don’t care, watch this awesome NRL promo from 1989, also known as SASSY’S FAVOURITE YOUTUBE VIDEO EVER. (It really is, I have it bookmarked and everything):

Happy Friday darlings!

So what do you think, babies? Like the new design? We set the interns to work over the last few weeks in their custom-made Errol hotpants to spruce up and repaint.

oherrol.com, now with NEW HAT!

By ‘interns’, we may also mean that the awesome Charlie Gearside from Bad Blumau lent us his web skillz and redesigned our humble blog. He’s now on holidays in Europe – possibly because dealing with us drove him to leave the country – but hit him up if you ever need a smart, speedy and hilarious web designer.

Because we have the technological kiss of death there might be a few teething problems – just comment if you find anything broken / confusing / with tomato sauce stains on it and we promise to a) fix it, and b) repay you with thankyou gropes for giving us the heads up.

Enjoy!

JJ dusts off his santa outfit.

Today is a very sad day. Not because it’s Christmas, although to be honest, something about Christmas does kinda give us all a case of the wretched melancholies at times. We’re sad cause it’s the time of year when we and the interns have to scatter out of the Errol office and …. actually survive without each other. IT’S ALMOST INHUMAN!

I am also traumatised by the fact that when I went to buy some last minute stuff at the fruit shop in Bondi Road I was confronted by a man shopping in nothing but speedoes. I mean, yes, I am also guilty of often not wanting to wear pants. But it’s a really hot day today, and I am fairly sure Jesus did not intend the Eve of his birth to be celebrated by fat hairy men whacking on speedoes and sweating all over the mangoes in the Bondi Road Fruitologist. Gross.

Right now Kiki is back home in the Hills preparing for a big ole Irish Catholic Christmas extravaganza, Lozzy’s flown back to Brisbane to spend time with Queenslanders (ugh) – also known as her relatives – and I’m at my parents’ place having a heated discussion about whether bacon and egg rolls are an acceptable meal to serve on Christmas Day. I say yes.

I am also doing important things like annoying my dog:

Poor Dolly Parton.

Tomorrow I imagine we’ll all be doing the same thing, namely, eating and drinking until we pass out. Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Needless to say it was a hell of a year. First column in Rugby League Player, first video appearances on nrl.com … first time Sassy ever left the pub early (just to watch the Four Nations).

Thank you all for being such loyal readers, commenters and perves … can’t wait to see you next year.

Love and kisses from the Errol gang xx

Wanna know where we’ve been lately? Well for reasons that no one really understands, the NRL have been letting us loose at some One Community functions  recently to interview the players and guests for nrl.com. Seriously. Yes, we have fake interns and all, but this is for real.

KIKI AND SASSY ON VIDEO ON NRL.COM.

Amazing, huh?

So far we’ve met the inspiring people, players and clubs nominated for One Community awards at the awards gala in November, and been out to the NRL Players’ Charity Christmas Party at ANZ Stadium. They let us near children. Amazing! We’re more used to people pausing while they try and figure out whether it’s safe to invite us to baby showers or kid’s birthdays, or whether we’re gonna turn up with a bottle of gin and proceed to get drunk and somehow taint the child with cynicism before it’s even born.

WELL THE NRL DON’T THINK SO.

We swore in advance there would be none of this business.

Little do people know Kiki was actually a local superstar Spice Girl impersonator as a teen and beloved by children all over the Hills district. Sassy, possibly because she looks like a life-size cartoon, is kind of a hit with kids, and even has an awesome new little kid boyfriend from the Chrissie party. His name is Lewis and he’s a total dude who rocks black skinny jeans and Havaianas like a mini-hipster. They enjoy balloon fights and share a love for Ben Hornby.

Needless to say we had the Greatest Time Ever eating tiny tiny sandwiches, getting lolly bags, even playing footy games out on ANZ stadium with some awesome kids and NRL players AND ELVES.

As for the One Community awards, as if we weren’t overwhelmed enough at being on camera for the first time since we were about 12 and meeting all the incredible community workers, WE ALSO MET DELL. If you watch the video closely you can totally see us freaking out. We also met the coolest CEO in league, Michael Searle, and invited ourselves to come meet the Titans. CALL US, SEARLEY!

Watch them both and tell us what you think:

Kiki and Sassy at the One Community Awards

Kiki and Sassy get their Christmas on

And of course a massive shout out to our ranga wranglers, Andy and Damien, and the gorgeous Trish and Janelle for hooking us up. Merry Christmas y’all! x

EXCITING NEWS, DARLINGS! The new edition of Rugby League Player mag came out this Monday, and it’s the 2009 Yearbook issue. And yes, this is pretty exciting on its own, considering it has sweet photo essays and you can win stuff and they have end-of-year awards (sure they’re not as hilarious and amazing as the Errol Awards, but what is? By the way the awards are coming … don’t worry babies!)

The point is: IT ALSO HAS A COLUMN BY US. Kiki and I wrote a double page wrap up of ‘The Year in Review’, complete with hilarious jokes about all the important stuff, like Robbie Farah’s nipples, tap-arse, Wendell, rangas, awkward run ins with Anthony Watmough and State of Origin bloodlust.

SEE? IT’S US! (complete with gratuitous picture of my nerdy reading glasses).

If you haven’t read it already – go! buy! IMMEDIATELY. You won’t regret it.

Oh yeah, in other news the Kangaroos won the Four Nations n stuff. If you missed the game, I can summarise it for you pretty quickly. For 60 minutes it was a competition, then for, um, about 20 minutes or so it just looked like this:

… but repeated over, and over, and over again ad nauseum till the buzzer sounded; then like this:

It was a Billy Slater hattrick, which meant the commentators went on and on incessantly about how well Billy was making up for The Unpleasantness during last years World Cup final against New Zealand. Do you think Billy just cracks it whenever someone brings that up? God knows I would. After all he only did it once, right?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e6Z16H6c2NY]

OH MY GOD! THAT WAS ONE TIME!

Of course Brett Morris wasn’t gonna come off empty-handed. You know how it’s not really a State of Origin until someone gest punched? Well, in 2009 IT’S NOT A FOUR NATIONS GAME IF B.MOZ DOESN’T SCORE.

Let me rephrase: it’s not a Four Nations game unless B.Moz scores … then the stadium decides to play ‘Land Down Under’ so we can all rock out like massive nerds. Thanks stadium music selector-man! I love Men at Work! *hippie dance*

I do have to be truthful though: when the Aussie boys shaved their mos off last week, it kind of broke my heart. I was deadset struggling to support them through my sorrow. I couldn’t even manage to bother getting up at 6am on Sunday to watch them. Remember last time I left the pub to watch a game? Now that was dedication. I just can’t muster up that kinda devotion anymore though.

The only man holding onto my love is the consistently awesome Nathan Hindmarsh. Oh, Hindy. I adore you even though last week you totally looked like a serial killer with a shotgun. We also, apparently, have something in common. When we’re happy, we celebrate EXACTLY THE SAME WAY. By cracking open the champas and taking our pants off. No one can celebrate properly with elastic digging into their waist. It’s just Science.

CALL ME HINDY! LET’S BE BESTIES!

I’ma miss seeing that mo on my tv, siiigh. In all honesty, I’m also gonna miss the English commentary team. I didn’t want to like them … but they’re just So Damn Excited. They love life! And Brett Morris! And Sam Burgess! And footy! And the crowd! And ESPECIALLY WHEN THE ENGLISH SCORE A TRY! Their ridiculous excitement for life is totally contagious, and every time they come on I somehow find myself nodding and clapping in agreement with everything that they say, especially when they say things like:

“He is a MAN-MOUNTAIN, Greg Inglis!”

Well-spotted, boys. He really is.

But there is no way I could possibly sum up the glory of the Four Nations as successfully as Nathan Hindmarsh did in the Daily Telegraph:

BIGGEST EATER: David Shillington, hands down. I suspect he might be pregnant, he orders two of everything. And he isn’t shy when dessert comes either.

FUNNIEST STORY: We’d all ordered our food in Paris one night and Trent Waterhouse thought of a joke. He made himself laugh so much he couldn’t spit it out. When he got his mouth working, he asked Ryan “how’s your beef stroganHOFF”. We were all in stitches.

[not gonna lie, I loled. Oh, Trent].

MOST UNTIDY TEAM-MATE: Justin Hodges. I think he unpacks his bag with great vengeance and furious anger. I am pretty sure he wears a pair of undies for four days – forwards, backwards, inside out forwards and inside out backwards. I pity the man rooming with him.

DESCRIBE YOUR ROOM-MATE IN ONE SENTENCE: David Shillington is a softly-spoken 115kg cuddly bear.

[He also pops the collar on his Kangaroos blazer ... ooh, FANCY].

IS THERE ONE PLAYER WHO CHANGED YOUR PERCEPTION OF HIM FOR GOOD OR BAD? Sam Thaiday changed my perception of him for the better. And David Shillington has changed it for the worse – all that food that goes in has to come out and I’m looking forward to breathing fresh air again.

Let’s do the whole thing again in four years, kids. What do you say?

Image credits: All Four Nations pics via Getty Images

Intern John John anxiously awaited our return

HI DARLINGS!

I know, I know…we have been absent of late. We are shit and we know it. People keep harassing us asking for more blogs and are all WHY HAVEN’T YOU WRITTEN ABOUT THE GRAND FINAL YOU LAZY SHITS etc etc. We have no excuses except this one : being writers for a living now is both a blessing and a curse. Amazing because we get to do what we love and get paid for it, but shit because it kinda sucks out our creative juice and leaves us a bit well…dry.

And yes I am aware of how (untintentionally) gross that sentence was. 

Now let’s sum up what’s been happening in mah head lately

a) The Grand Final was bloody awful. And no, not because the Storm won. It was awful because I spent the whole day in deep emotional pain thinking THE BLOODY DRAGONS SHOULD BE HERE GODAMNIT THIS SUCKS. And by ‘thinking’, I mean ‘loudly announcing it to no one in particular then kicking the ground like a small child’.

I was in the middle of a booze ban but I had to down a couple of vodkas to cope. Once again, the Dragons are directly to blame for my alcohol intake. I hope Peter Doust has a special fund set up for my future liver transplant.

Also, I spent most of the day being enraged at the massive amounts of Parra bandwagoners that were milling about just begging to be punched in the face. Look I am all for new people coming to the game, and I truly want league to be really popular, but is there anything worse than tools sporting freshly bought merchandise and being Smuggy Mc Smuggersons? I’ll answer it for you: no, no there is not.

In an ironic twist, Billy Slater decides he hates overexposed fullbacks

On the bus there, we were sitting next to a girl who was wearing…wait for it…a backless bodysuit and a Parramatta scarf. Because her back is so hot but her neck is FREEZING! GO PARRA! She teamed this with skin tight jeans and strappy high heels. ARGH. We were forced to listen to her inane questions which consisted of ’so, like, is there like, a toilet near the seats?’ and ‘do you think the Eels would be like, nervous today?’. I bet her favourite player of all timez is Jarryd Hayne. He’s sooooo hot.

And yes, if you’re wondering, I am completely aware that I am bitter and resent the fact the Eels found form when my boys lost theirs. But in my defence, Kate, my other-bestie-that-isn’t-Sassy, the biggest Parra fan in the entire universe, also hates the bandwagoners with a passion. When I sent her an sms to describe the Bodysuit Girl she said ‘murder her immediately, I will visit you in jail I promise’.

b) In a twist that is worthy of a Mexican telenovela, I have decided I that I now like Billy Slater. Yes, really. I know, I know…I’m freaked out too.  Next thing you know my evil twin is gonna appear wearing a maroon jersey and stilettos, drinking Bundy rum and yelling QUEENSLANDER in peoples faces.

I can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but I think it started with Rexona’s Greatest Athlete. Then it snowballed when our friend Edwina started to like footy. And by that I mean she started to obsess over Hot Bitch Cooper and Billy and started forcing me to realise Billy has beautiful skin and pretty eyes and oh god…he’s kinda cute. And worst of all, likeable.  I kept telling myself the only reason I was on GettyImages searching for Billy pix was for Eddie but then at the Grand Final I involuntarily yelled GO BILLY. I hate myself so much.

Kiki retreats to 1997 fashionz to ease the off season pain

c) I have literally experienced post season depression. I’ve been massively emo. For ages I couldn’t figure out why I felt like something had stolen my heart and filled my chest with sad sad cement then I realised oh my god, it’s because there’s no footy on. I am simultaneously proud and ashamed of this.

Okay now onto things that aren’t me.

So last week we got to play with the VB Kangaroos. Seriously. Somehow we managed to annoy charm the NRL’s media manager, David Taylor, into letting us come along to their media call and conduct some video interviews. Being the legend that he is, DT asked us who we wanted to speak to and he just made it all happen. Seriously kids, we just sat on our little lounge and superstahs like Billy Slater, Robbie Farah and the Mozzie twins were just brought over to us. Footy player delivery!

Anyway, since JJ and the boys had to hold down the fort at Errol HQ, we brought along our interns for the day, Loz and Butch. They found Errol by googling naked photos of David Williams, which is really quite fitting. They are basically 17 yr old versions of Sassy and myself, which I find both terrifying and delightful. Here is their take on the day (yes these interns actually exist and they wrote this for reals!).

***********************

Last Tuesday was National Nipples Day Out (thankyou Robbie ‘headlights’ Farah, ambassador of this campaign), otherwise known as the Kangaroo’s media call. We are best friends, we love football, the Sea Eagles, Georgie Rose, High School Musical, doing the hoedown throwdown whilst cooking and Big Del (Little Del goes down alright to). We DON’T love dirty dirty Queenslanders, with the exception of Billy Slater.

After 2nd helpings of Maccas breakfast, due to the fact we were an hour early, we met Kiki and Sassy and made our way into the Pullman htel, got settled and dolled ourselves up, ready for Robbie.

From the moment he walked around the corner, Robbie’s  infamous visible nipples were on full display for us (and didn’t we LOVE it). Bitch is also full of lolz, who knew?? When asked about his recent shirtless kebab photo, Robbie seemed….errrrr, slighty….confused, like he’s done it on many occasions……which is AWSOME, coz it means there are more out there. Here’s a preview -

Anyway, turns out Robbie is extremely proud of when he punched Anthony Watts waaaaaaay back in round 19. He was all ‘nobody thought I’d do it……..but I DID!’. Kinda like how kids are when they go to the toilet by themselves for the first time.

Next was Billy Slater. As we all circled around him (after Sassy elegantly kicked over a glass coke bottle that smashed everywhere), Kiki told him that this wasn’t gunna be a normal interview, he replied with (whilst looking slighty nervous) “I can see that”. Pretty AND observant, what’s not to love? Billy didn’t even seem bothered by Butch’s question of how he keeps his skin so radiant. His answer? GENETICS!! However, we did get the goss on who in the Melby (gag) team moisturizes. Cooper Cronk? OF COURSE he does. When one is a fierce bitch like Cooper Cronk, one must look after one’s skin, non?

Also, we are 99% sure that Watmough recognised us from the Manly fan days and shit like that were we have met him…. It may have also been that time when Butch walked past his car and he had ‘DAMN WHO’S A SEXY BITCH’ blaring (don’t even pretend that wasn’t aimed at me Watmough, you sly dog -B). Or, it could have just been in our heads. We have active imaginations, WHAT OF IT?

So while we waited for the Mozzies, we relaxed on the lounges. Apparently we’re relaxed interns (meaning we do nothing). Butch demonstrated how relaxed we were by reclining on the lounge in a slightly provocative manner. That magic moment was caught on tape by some lucky sport channel. Youtube it bitches!

Meanwhile, B.Moz cares not for being top point scorer of the Errol Wildcats, or the top try scoreer for the NRL, bitch just wanted to be captain of the Wildcats!

LOOK HOW UPSET HE IS! It seemed to us that J.Moz was kinda put off that B.Moz knew all about Errol but he didn’t. They also seemed quite please by the fact that they were nominated for the best legs in league, but slightly affronted that Uncy Wayne wasn’t nominated for Sexiest Coach.
 
In conclusion, footy we love you! We also kinda, maybe, probably, defssss love the people that play footy. Oh and Kiki and Sassy, we’ll intern for you anytime and we promise actual communication to the players next time, not just nervous giggles.

***********************

The girls were hilarious and adorable and we will have them intern with us again any time. We love you kittens!  Sassy and I will be writing our own post on the day, including VIDEO INTERVIEWS. Real ones! I know, I can’t believe they let us that close to the players either.

Is this the longest Errol post ever? Possibly. It should shut up you whingers that have been blog-begging for the past month anyway.

PS – MASSIVE thanks to the amazing David Taylor for hooking us up on Kangamaroooooos Day. DT, you are our new favourite person!

PPS -The Errol Awards are coming I swear to God.  We decided this year to leave them until after the season ended so we could stretch out the footy goodness as long as possible.

(photos from GettyImages)

Okay. So this is probably the scariest post we’ve ever had to write. But entirely necessary.

First of all, YES WE ARE SERIOUS. STOP LAUGHING PLS. We have been thinking about doing this for aaaaages but been a) too lazy and b) too scared to get started. But now is the time.

How we put this? We are kinda, well … unhealthy. As we’re sure you’ve noticed, none of us here at Errol are exactly clean living individuals. There are two types of people out there : the ones who go jogging at 6am and the ones who stumble home at the same time clutching a kebab in hand, and shame in their hearts. It’s fairly obvious which group we fit into.

Don’t get us wrong, we aren’t complete libertines. We don’t do drugs or smoke or anything. Okay we’ll admit to the (very) odd drunken cigga, but thankfully we’ve only bought maybe 3 packets of Marlboro Lights between us in our entire lives.

But we definitely like the good things in life. Eating, drinking and lounging around. It’s all very ancient Rome at Errol HQ. Intern John John really loves his toga.

To give you a better idea what we’re dealing with, we’ll each explain ourselves:

SASSY -

My current state of gross unfitness and general … squidginess is still kinda new. I blame getting a car, too many glasses of champagne and a few office jobs. I was a sports dynamo (hard to believe, right?) as a teenager. I was all over swim training, water polo, netball, softball and aerobics. I was the year six all-school backstroke champion. I even wore lycra. Shit was intense.

Note: this is NOT the only reason I did water sports. I WAS HEALTHY. I SWEAR.

A few years ago one of my oldest friends announced that I used to have ‘the body of a fierce killer’. Now it’s more like, I dunno, the body of an occasional manslaughterer. Or maybe like, a money launderer. My idea of exercise is walking around in the park while Dolly Parton the greyhound sprints laps, and drunkenly busting moves to Britney, Whitney, J.Lo and Chisel on the dancefloor. Yeah I’m a pretty enthusiastic dancer, but that’s not really gonna cut it in the health stakes.

Hi my future ass!

So in the interests of general health, wellbeing, and being able to prance around in shorty shorts without scarring any small children down at Bondi, Kiki and I are starting Project Health. It’s not like I’ve ever had to shop at a special store or take an escalator cause I just can’t make it up the steps, but I’m definitely not fit and crazy healthy like I used to be. Plus, they keep playing that ad on television. You know the one with the guy who walks down the line towards the camera, then gradually gets old and obese without even realising? That thing puts the fear of god in me. I don’t want to be a grey-haired old man who can’t pick up his kids! HEEEELP!

So we’re trading in Italian takeaway on Super Saturday for running, pilates, and general healthytimes. We have an awesome overseas trip planned in five weeks and we wanna get a big headstart before we enter America, the land of orange cheese, giant coca colas, and Krystal burgers. That stuff is lethal for the bodyfat ratio. WISH US LUCK!

KIKI

I’m not sure if anyone would ever look at me and think YOU BIG FATTIE, but I am definitely not a picture of health. Okay so one time this boy I was with, his psycho ex was staring at us from across the pub and sent him a text message saying ‘KIKI IS FAT, WHY ARE YOU WITH HER’.

Now this is a direct violation of  Girl Law because that bitch is FATTER THAN ME. Girl Law dictates you can only call someone chubby if they are bigger than you. Not only is she at least 2 sizes bigger than me, she also wears vast amounts of flammable material, including pleather. Enough said.

Errr anyway. I should basically be obese. I do NO excercise. And I don’t mean I just go for walks and do yoga … I literally do nothing. Exercise for me is walking from the lounge to the fridge. I also eat whatever I want, whenever I want. I am all about the Easy Mac and the Burger Rings and the late night Maccas runs.

Thanks to the wonder of genetics I have somehow managed to never be bigger than a size 12. It also helps that I have skinny little stick arms and legs so with some clever dressing (thanks babydoll dresses) I can fool people into thinking I’m not a walking heart attack.

However, I feel like absolute shit. I have had periods of fitness in my life but they have never lasted particularly long as I get bored easily. I used to be dancer during highschool and I have all these photos of me in leotards with skinny legs up to my chin. Sigh, those were the days.  Now I look like a dancer who was kicked out of her company for having a drinking problem and binge eating disorder. It ain’t cute.

Basically I’m sick of getting puffed when I walk up the stairs. That’s okay if you’re in your 60s, but in your 20’s…not so much. I would also like to actually see my hipbones again. I miss you old friends!

So I am gonna sacrifice my indulgent lifestyle, get my shit together and become one of those annoying healthy people who points out how many calories there are in Boost smoothies. Yep yep.

So, now you’ve read both our stories you understand why we have decided to do our health campaign publicly. Neither of us are good at following through with things like this. We need to be accountable otherwise it will never happen. So you guys are gonna share this journey with us, whether you like it or not.

We will blogging a few times a week about our adventures into the world of heath and fitnesss, including photos of our attempts at cooking and the details on the ridiculousness of us trying to exercise.

If any of you want to join in with us, that would be awesome. We are super excited to post photos of our sweet sweet abs. Also, if you are hot and have abs, just post them anyway. We love fit-spiration.

You know who you are.

We are sure you posting threatening, harassing and intimidating comments anonymously on Errol makes you feel like an awesome human being. Congratulations.

Pretty simply, what you are doing is illegal. The police have been informed and action is currently being taken against you.

And for anyone else out there that thinks this sort of fuckery is amusing, it isn’t. It is a serious matter and we are treating it as such. If anyone else decides to partake in this sort of behaviour, they too will be reported to the police.

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.

Hi kittens! So, better late than never. We made a (somewhat glorious) appearance in Rugby League Week this month. Appearance in the sense that Steve Mascord deigned to write about us … along with the Fire Up boys. OMGZ WE TOTALLY KNOW THEM. And ‘glorious’ in the sense that the issue had our hero, Wendell Sailor, on the cover.

THERE WE IS:

Click on it if you want to have a read, kids. (PS yes, the scan IS wonky. It’s not your eyes. We may be great at shitty photoshopping and cheap jokes … scanning not so much. We struggle when the interns have the day off. DON’T JUDGE US).