We don’t like it either, boys.

So we hate to start the week on a downer, but you all keep asking for our thoughtz on the Melbourne Storm, so let’s get it out of the way first, shall we?

Yes, they are more cheaty than even we suspected, and it took a team of professional auditors to figure out just HOW cheaty they were. Also, yes, David Gallop’s new glasses are freaking awesome, huh? We love us some nerd glasses. We think they make him look very distinguished.

Here’s the way we see it: while it sucks for the innocent players that they have to be called cheats by rowdy New Zealand crowds, can you really blame the kiwis? Every other team in the NRL that played by the rules got screwed by the Storm. Of course the fans are angry. It’s kind of mean, but totally understandable. Also, the guy in Auckland with the “BILLY SLATER’S A COCK” sign clearly wrote it on the back of a beer carton at the game while drunk, so no judgment.

I would also like to include twitter-friend Hilius‘ brilliant summary:

I don’t see what’s wrong with “BILLY SLATER’S A COCK”. Penile banners are a proud tradition in rugby league – see the Roosters’ “WE’LL BEAT YOU WITH OUR COCKS” and the Bulldogs’ “STAGG, GO IN HARD – DON’T FLOP”. Billy should be honoured.

Lolz x 1000.

Best solution as we see it is for the Melby Storm to start putting things right. As in actually start making the Big Scary Decisions about which players have to go and which players can stay. At least then the fans would feel like they’re serious about getting under the salary cap, cause right now it seems like the Melbourne storm just don’t really care and aren’t trying. Offloading Ryan Tandy isn’t exactly a huge show of good faith, you know? Plus the longer they wait, the more players will end up on reduced contracts at the Storm, or overseas, which would suck for the NRL and for their own livelihoods.

GET CRACKIN, STORM PEEPS!

And that’s all we have to say about that.

Instead, let’s talk about the epic footy-boner that was this weekend (except for the Sharks and Manly. Soz guys). AMAZING. Phil Gould was saying on the Sunday Roast that he thinks this is probably one of the softest seasons of footy he’s seen … as in no teams are really dominating. He’s right, in that you really don’t expect the team at the top of the table to cut it as fine as the Dragons did against the Rabbitohs. But if games like we saw this weekend are the result then who cares?  I LIKE IT.

THE BITCHERY

Y’all know we think Cooper Cronk is the fiercest bitch in ruby league. Well the bitch has competition from an unlikely corner: Manu Vatuvei. Usually when he scores a try/drops a ball/does something insane his response is just to grin and flash his gold teeth and continue being the Beast. And the crowd goes wild, naturally, cause he has charisma on Wil Smith-type levels (but without the creepy possible ties to Scientology).

On Saturday night he bungled a kick receive in spectcaular fashion, grinned, ran in a try a few minutes later and GOT ALL UP IN COOPER CRONK’S BIZNESS.

The tension was palpable. The fact that no one got bitchslapped was a miracle. I thought Manu was gon’ polish up his acrylics and cut a bitch. Welcome to the Fierce Bitch club, Manu.

And is it a coincidence that as soon as Manu discovers his inner bitch, the Warriors string together a whole bunch of impressive wins? For most of the season our tipping policy has been to only tip the Warriors if they’ve lost the week before, cause God knows they’d never win two in a row. Congratulations on ruining my tips, guys.

In related news, Kevin Locke is back, and still adorable.

THE COMEBACK

For all the people who got to half time in the Penrith and Parramatta game, thought it was done and dusted, and pushed the big red Foxtel button to watch Manly instead … bad choice. Seriously, bad choice. Big, huge mistake. Jarryd-with-a-Y Hayne outran Michael Jennings for one man miracle try like Nathan Gardener against the Roosters the other week. (Except when Hayne did it, it didn’t make me want to top myself, like it did when Nathan Gardener did).

People cried! Nathan Hindmarsh was everywhere! Just Horo scored a try! Feleti Mateo DID stuff.

Parramatta are starting to make me realise what it’s like to be a teacher. You get frustrated because you know little Parra is JUST SO TALENTED, and if they would actually study, and try, they’d be awesome, but they’re too busy picking their nails with scissors and refusing to concentrate. Then all of a sudden at exam time they breeze in without even opening their textbook and manage to get an A.

If Parra make it to the finals again this year I won’t be surprised. At all. Totally the kind of thing those contrary little Eels would do, right?

THE ROOSTERS

I am so proud right now. Of my Roosters for their win on Sunday, and of myself for finally – finally – managing to win Kiki over to my team. Okay, so she’s not totally ready to adopt the Roosters as a second team yet, but I’m getting closer. She is now officially a Shaun Kenny-Dowall super fan, a lover of Todd Carney and Mitchell Aubusson, and closet lover of Martin Kennedy and Jared Warea-Hargreaves.

TOLD YOU THEY WERE LOVABLE KIKI!

She even – grudgingly – said something nice about Mitchell Pearce and Braith Anasta last week. Really! I swear! Whether you love them or hate them, my boys have heart.

I was sceptical when Braith came to the Chooks. I wasn’t sure I was down with all this ex-Bulldogs fuckery, until I saw him in 2008 get hit in the face and literally CRAWL downfield on his hands and knees to stagger to his feet and get back in the game. That’s heart. Mitchell Pearce’s defence has heart. Mitchell playing through his 8,000 career knocks to the head is definitely heart.

The Sunday game was there for the Bulldogs to take, but the Roosters wanted it more, no? If you didn’t enjoy this game, then you are clearly dead inside and I pity you.

Wanna know my two highlights of the game?

1. Pearce and Carney combining to score a try from that Jake Friend pass. Why do Todd and Mitchell look so profoundly … troublesome when they’re together? Who knows. They just have an air of about-to-do-something-mischievous. Whatever. It works. When they play well, angels get their wings. Possibly also Todd gets another tattoo.

2. Braith Anasta’s Rage. I didn’t think it was possible, but I know love Braith’s bitchery as much as I love Cooper Cronk’s. His quarrels with Gavin Badger made my heart sing. He’s the kind of captain who leads from in front. His Rage is actually now another player in the Roosters team. (Dunno if you remember, but yes, Braith Anasta’s Crotch is also a Roosters player. He’s very versatile, that Braith).

THE NOD

Lastly, there are lots of grumbles about Noddy Kimmorley not getting the recognition he deserved for playing 300 games. So in tribute to our favourite footy gnome, let’s relive the time the NRL made him sit on Sassy’s knee at the NRL Players’ Christmas Party. Click on the link, scroll to the end and enjoy.

All pics: Getty Images

Well, that was an eventful few weeks. We leave the internet for 10 days and all hell breaks loose.

What was meant to happen in the last week was this: we would head down to our nation’s capital for the Raiders vs Titans, do a little bit of work, relax a little, maybe hit up Questacon or ride bikes around Lake Burley-Griffin, and head home. Then we’d do some typey-typey for some new projects we’re working on and come back to Errol as if nothing had happened.

BUT NO.

In the interim league went fucking insane. First Billy Slater and Jarryd Hayne got involved in a Melbourne vs Parramatta headbutt spite-fest at Parramatta Stadium. This, as we all know led to the Gayest Fight in Football History.

No, we don’t mean ‘gay’ as a derogatory term. We love gays. We mean it literally. Fierce bitch Cooper Cronk was not having any of this, and ran in to protect his fullback Billy Slater. Have you seen his face? We wouldn’t want anyone headbutting it either. He’s adorable. So far, so logical.

We saw Cooper running in … then Cooper diving onto Headbutt Hayne, and then ….

ARE THEY MAKING OUT? (yes, we did actually yell that at the tv).

Apparently the internet was equally confused/amused, because a complete genius came up with this:

Oh internet, how we love you.

We also especially enjoyed when Cam Smith gave the world a lesson in sportsmanship. First he yelled at the ref “WE CAN’T WIN THE PREMIERSHIP, WHO CARES WHAT WE DO?” He then threw an Errol-worthy tantrum and quit that whole shit.

Can’t win? Don’t try.

We can’t wait till that image is used in motivational posters in offices all over Melbourne.

And, of course, the tension resulted in two of the prettiest boys in history to ever share the sin-bin: Dan Dan Mortimer and Billy Slater. Surely people that pretty don’t belong in the bin? Evidently Billy agrees, because bitch was pissed.

The dramas didn’t stop at Parra vs Storm, though. There have feelingz happening all over the NRL. At Brookie, injury is taking it’s toll on Dave Williams. The man that … well, people who aren’t us like to call ‘the Wolfman’, is not dealing well with being a sideline fixture.

We interviewed Daveypants 2 weeks ago for the NRL and he seems so, so sad. His poor little arm is still in a sling and he is the saddest panda of all pandas in history. It took all our strength not to hug him.

It’s no suprise he has turned to comfort eating. Specifically, comfort eating chips on the sideline. The saddest part of all was when he offered one to Jamie Lyon and was brutally rebuffed. WAY TO MAKE HIM FEEL LIKE A PIG, JAMIE.

Meanwhile we were down in the Nation’s capital hustling and getting ready to watch the Raiders vs Titans. In a moment of perfect timing by the universe, we needed to interview the baby Raiders AND Titan’s coach John Cartwright. So on Sunday morning we headed off the pick up Carty and take him for a coffee and a chat. The only problem? Literally NOTHING is open in Canberra at 9.30am in Canberra.

What the hell, ACT? It was like a nuclear apocalypse took place and no one told us.

Not even WANGS massage was open, although at least it gave us a few lolz.

In the end, intrepid Carty led us into a food court, to find a tiny tiny window called the House of Vitality. Kiki ordered a diet coke, to which Carty said “a Diet Coke? …. for breakfast? Shouldn’t you at least have a normal coke for nutritional value?”

Kiki’s only answer was SHUT UP I’M HUNGOVER. She ordered the Diet Coke anyway.

What’s more glamorous than doing an interview with an NRL coach in a food court? Pretty much nothing. For reals.

Next stop was Bruce Stadium for Raiders vs Titans. For Sydney girls, going to Bruce Stadium is so … so weird. Actually, Canberra is weird to us. It’s all organised, and tidy, and convenient. All the suburbs have different names, but they’re only like two blocks apart and EVERYTHING IS SO CHEAP.

Two voddies and a beer for $12? $5 parking at the footy? $13 for a pizza and two Diet Cokes? Yes, please. It’s developing world prices without all the pesky airline travel and vaccinations.

As we drove into the Bruce Stadium carpark a friendly dude pointed out that Sassy’s bonnet was askew and maybe not closed properly. When she admitted it was just wonky from her bad driving, he came out with I HIT A KANGAROO ONCE. IT’S HEAD POPPED RIGHT OFF. I KILLED IT, BY THE WAY. Oh, Canberra. Nothing cheers us up like an animal decapitation story. Turns out it really did make Sassy feel better about her driving.

That, and a stadium with seats close enough to hear the OOF when two men tackles.

Wait, make that a decapitation, Bruce Stadium, and our new bestie in the next row down.

We asked Josh McCrone about this: “… definitely from Queanbeyan. He’s probably Campo’s neighbour”.

Then as a farewell to the ‘Berra, we met a few of the baby Raiders for interviews after recovery on Monday: Jarrod Croker, Daniel Vidot, Josh McCrone and Shaun Fensom. WE ARE IN LOVE. Four of the most hilarious, humble footy players you’ll meet (if you ignore Dan Vidot’s love for a glamorous self-portrait. He really, really loves them. Especially if they involve shirtlessness, which is fair enough. Have you seen him? He’s a total spunk).

McCrone and Crokes – actually all the boys really – are fucking hilarious. Shaun Fensom managed to burn Kiki within ten seconds of meeting her. We like his hustle. We also especially enjoyed Croker and Vidot taking the piss out of each other about their Adventures in Hair Highlights.

Apologies to the boys for springing it ON TAPE that some of them are gay icons, and to Shaun Fensom in particular for Kiki stroking his pretty hair like a massive creep. The trickiest part was convincing them to have their photos taken to go with the story – Dan Vidot only wanted pre-approved images that he’d had taken earlier included in the mag. He’s so J.Lo. We loves him

And Crokes was traumatised because his hair looked ‘shit’ (it didn’t, it looked messy and cute…bed hair!), he hadn’t shaved, and his shorts were soaking wet. “But I’ve got a beard! Can’t you come back another day and take them?”

NO. WE’RE NOT DRIVING THREE HOURS AGAIN.

But probably the highlight of our trip was telling Trevor Thurling of the huge section of his fan base who refer to him as Trevor “Sex Machine” Thurling.

According to google, this is what a Sex Machine looks like:

Trevor, is that you?

This story led to us hearing Shaun Fensom utter the words “yeah, I lived with a family when I first got here, now I live with Sex Machine”. Awesome.

Try not to die waiting, but the story will be out in the next issue of Rugby League Player mag. and in the meantime, here’s a picture of Josh McCrone being a hilarious human and posing comically in front of a palm tree. So awesome. Doesn’t he look like Prince Harry? He totally looks like Prince Harry. Till next time kittens! xx

Big thanks to our favourite media manager and one of our favourite humans, Ben Pollack, for hooking us up the whole weekend. And thankyou to the boys for being generally awesome. WE LOVE YOU RAIDERS!

Thanks to the brilliant Cronkster for the caps. LEGEND!

Now I’m not a Parramatta fan, especially not when being a Parramatta fan involves people wearing creepy Jarryd Hayne face-masks on the train on Sydney’s Western line. I HATE MASKS! Masks and all related bizness including but not limited to puppets, dummies and clowns.

But I know that there is some shit in rugby league that you need Parramatta for.

For one thing, they’re the club that gave us the new favourite drinking game in the Errol Office. It’s called Fui Fui Moi Moi, and you play it … all the time. Literally. It’s not just a drinking game, it’s a lifestyle choice. Every time you hear those four words, you need to track down the nearest drink and make it disappear in your mouth. No excuses! Which is how I found myself on Saturday night, sitting outside a house party in Darlinghurst, desperately trying to steal the nearest vodka when the host appeared in Parramatta footy shorts and announced that he was Fui Fui Moi Moi.

DRINK.

That’s not all, of course. There’s another thing no other club can do as well as the blue and gold do: crack my shit up in the news. Remember the Great Chinese Food Scandal of 2009? Amazing! And now Paul Osborne has been over in India schmoozing Bollywood stars to be new ambassadors for the Eels in Australia.

Joel Reddy I love your work!

If you can tell me you didnt automatically picture Joel Reddy wearing eyeliner and dancing his thoughts and feelings complete with hand gestures, then you lie, liar. I’m gonna picture that every time I get a bit sad counting down the last month until Proper Footy Season starts.

Fui … is that you?

Now that Brett Lee’s given up test cricket, it’s pretty much perfect timing for him to play opposite Fui in a Bollywood heroes and villians extravaganza. Look into it, Osborne.

It’s an idea I like a whole lot better than having to trek to ANZ Stadium in Homebush – as we like to call it, the Cavernous Shithole – to watch the Dragons play the Eels. Sure, they say, it will be better for the game. The winner is rugby league. Thousands more people will get to see the match. Um, is that really the point? There’s more to life than quantity, kids. Think about it.

Would you rather hold hands with 20 cute girls, or pash 10? Would you rather let more people spend two hours sitting in the Cavernous Shithole praying for sweet merciful death, or fewer people have a rockin good time at Parra stadium, complete with the Parramatta macarena and someone starting a fight. You know it’s Parra tradition. It may be the only stadium in the world where every time a game is played a fight breaks out … in the members section. Makes me proud to be Australian.

VOTE 1 PARRA STADIUM.

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)

Darlings we have been so busy! Have you been reading us on She Knows the Rules and 2DayFM? I hope so. And in the meantime all of a sudden it’s Grand Final time. We are overjoyed/heartbroken. As in … what do we do when it’s over? I’m already completely baffled about what to do this Saturday night with no Super Saturday on tv. Is this when you’re meant to go out? Like … with the young people? Cause God knows I refuse to start watching soccer. THAT WOULD JUST BE MASOCHISTIC. If that’s the alternative then I’m seriously considering taking up cross-stitch or a valium addiction or something equally thrilling and productive instead.

Sup Papua! (Pic. via News Limited / the Daily Telegraph)

So in the interest of delaying the end of footy season a lil bit longer, let’s talk about the Prime Ministers XIII. Or as Kiki keeps accidentally calling them, the PM’S XI. She cares not for the wingers! 11 players only!

We were all over this business the second it was announced, because apparently we have EXACTLY THE SAME TASTE as K.Rudd. Every time he picks this team he ends up putting in some of our fave boys who we could’ve sworn no one but us had noticed. It’s … serendipity, or something. We are totally psychically connected. Call me Kevin! We can shop together!

This year he picked out Terry ‘T.Camps’ Campese, beloved by everyone at the Errol office, especially after that time he threw a ball at Dean Young’s head. He also picked the frontrunner for Oh Errol’s Neatest Man in League award 2009: Robbie Farah.

HI ROBBIE! So neat! So efficient! So focussed! He’s like some kind of … Robbiebot. A Robbiebot in a Kangaroos training shirt. A Robbiebot … with visible nipples? Evidently they’re using the latex manufacturer to make the Robbiebot as they used to make the Batman outfits back when George Clooney played Batman.

HOLY PLASTIC NIPPLES BATMAN!

And the boys were too good for the Kumuls. They took out the game 42-18, which, to be honest, I’d be pretty damn happy with. The PNG boys are kinda badass. Apparently they’re also a bit prone to a spear tackle, and I can only assume they’re glad they didn’t injure anyone cause we Errol girls can be terrifying when someone messes with one of our Errol boyz.

Luckily, Dimples Dugan came home with his dimples in tact.

Just one teeny tiny problem. Um …. so while the game was going on, they kind of … well, this is awkward. How do you say this, exactly? PNG lost some prisoners. Happens all the time right? A few wardens go on strike, 54 inmates cut a hole in the fence, and all of a sudden they get away because the police are busy guarding a footy match. Whatever. COULD HAPPEN TO ANYONE. Prisoners really wanted to go to the game too, kk?

Everyone in this picture loves footy.

And after captaining the team last year, the awesome that is Nathan Hindmarsh was left out of the PM’s squad. Mainly, this is probably because he has to, you know, play a Grand Final. But something tells me he’s pretty happy to stay in Sydney and chill with his boys. Hindy be pimpinnn.

And yes, by ‘his boys’, I mean Matt Keating and Feleti Mateo. NO, NOT YOU LUKE BURT! YOU STAY OVER THERE IN THE CORNER ALONE. I DON’T CARE IF YOU HAVE A BOO BOO.

Plus it means Hindy gets to enjoy the rampant Parra fever that’s gripped Sydney at the moment.

THE HAYNE TRAIN WILL HAUNT MY DREAMS.
Pic. Justin Lloyd.

Don’t people love a bandwagon? If I was a little bit kinder, I might describe it the way the Herald Sun did:

Astounded by the rush of support from previously latent fans, Parramatta officials are still devising a plan to accommodate an expected throng of 20,000 partygoers should they complete a fairytale premiership.

CEO Paul Osborne is hoping to present the team to the faithful at Parramatta Stadium, which has seating for 22,000 and is capable of hosting thousands more on-field.

PREVIOUSLY LATENT FANS. What a great phrase for all those incredibly annoying people on facebook who haven’t uttered a WORD about footy all year now littering my feed with 85 updates on how they are sooooo happy Parra are in the finals. I’m glad you’re supporting league and all but YOUR STATUS UPDATES ARE ANNOYING. STOP IT IMMEDIATELY.

Pic. Gary Graham

Obviously this doesn’t apply if you are this guy, from the Daily Telegraph website, who has turned his Holden Commodore into a Parra Eels tribute. That is fucking amazing and he can do whatever he likes, even if that involves multiple annoying status updates.

Meanwhile down in Melbourne – as far as I can tell – the Storm threw an open training session so that Melbourne fans from far and wide could come and meet Billy Slater. That’s all that happened, right?

He’s like …. the people’s princess. He’s totally the Princess Di of footy. They love him! Even I have a weird fondness for Billy Slater and we all know that I hate everyone. What can I say? He won me over a) with his lovely skin and b) when everyone hated him for that brief period back in 2008. I am contrary like that.

Father Bob baptises Billy with holy water in a Gatorade bottle. Even God loves Billy Slater!

I can’t wait till Billy starts opening hospital cancer wards and arriving at Gala events in show-stopping one shouldered blue gowns.

Then, of course, there’s the other reason Hindy needed to stay in town: Grand Final breakfast. Also known as A Great Day for Sassy. I’ve already discussed how much I love seeing a footy player in a suit. I’ve said it before but it’s mesmerising. There’s something delightful about seeing someone look so uncomfortable … you know?

Exhibit A: buttons don’t usually go there, right?

Pic. Phil Hillyard

And this year Hindy made the whole thing even more enjoyable with the Nathan Hindmarsh comedy hour. (He’s available for birthdays/functions/corporate retreats if you’re wondering. Deposit non-refundable).

Pic. Phil Hillyard

According to Hindy:

“I think Haynesy wrote in Cosmopolitan magazine that his body is a blessing,” said Hindmarsh at the NRL grand final breakfast on Thursday.

“That is enough motivation for me to try harder on the field.”

And doesn’t Ben Smith love it? He’s an easy laugh, like us. Heart.

Meanwhile Dan Dan Mortimer was apparently writing during the brekkie, and now thanks to Friday’s Daily Telegraph, we know that it is. (Hint: it’s not, as I suspected, a note reading DO YOU WANT TO SKIP DOUBLE P.E. THIS AFTERNOON? with two little ticky-boxes marked ‘yes’ and ’no … cause I’M A LOSER’. 

But the Eels of 2009 looked as though they were headed for a Sunday afternoon barbecue as players joked and giggled their way through yesterday’s Grand Final Breakfast at Darling Harbour’s Convention Centre.

Nathan Hindmarsh pulled faces at the 650-strong audience and laughed about his loose shorts, Jarryd Hayne made gags about Hindmarsh, Fuifui Moimoi smiled as he hid from Fox Sports’ cameras, while Daniel Mortimer wrote a note, which Hindmarsh stole and gave to coach Daniel Anderson.

“Yes, you can have some water, Daniel,” Anderson said.

Don’t you love it? I love it.

In fact, the only person I can think of who loves GF breakfast more than I do is Fui Fui Moi Moi. Just look at him, so full of love!

Pic. Phil Hillyard

Apparently also not really able to tie a tie, but conveniently there’s no tie in a footy uniform, is there? Also BET FELETI TOTALLY LOVES DOING IT. Makes him feel needed.

Pic. Phil Hillyard

Which brings us to tips. You already know who we want to win (or you should know if you’ve been reading She Knows the Rules).

But we mean actual tips. Shit we’d put money on.

Kiki says the Storm. She says they’ve got too much finals experience, they’re soming off the motivation of a stinging lost in last year’s GF, and also, they are pure evil. Her reasoning is that you don’t get a happy ending two years in a row.

I say Parra. And I say this with full disclosure that I’m tipping with my heart, not my head. Parra are – like us – delightfully inconsistent. But like us, sometimes the battlers come out on top. I think that Parramatta are motivated and feeling blessed enough by the Gods and the NRL judiciary to go into the game with enough confidence to throw the ball around and really freak Melbourne out. And with a style of attack that’s only a few weeks old, I think Melbourne might crack.

Lozzy refuses to put in a tip and explanation because she just started a swishy new job yesterday and is “so compeltely fucking exhausted” from being nice to strangers/trying to find the bathroom/getting public transport/dealing with IT that she cannot even talk.

In the meantime, email me with enquiries for the Nathan Hindmarsh comedy hour. I take a 10% commission. Hindy’s totally cool with it.

You knew we were gonna say it … didn’t you?  After our lengthy discussion last week about whether Queenslanders have trotters instead of feet (they totally do) we finally have proof. Proof in the form of Queenslander Ben Hannant and his positive test for Swine Flu.

WE KNEW IT. WE LOVE BEING RIGHT.

So in the interests of protecting the non-porcine members of the NRL, all the Queensland Origin boys are being quarantined from their regular teammates. No more eating at the same trough, sleeping in the same barn and rolling in the same mud. Instead it’s all face-masks and Tamiflu for the maroons this week.

The NSWRL consider redesigning the Blues’ State of Origin uniforms.

And I would like to take this opportunity to say: You bastards! Usually it’s my favourite thing of all when embarassing things happen to Queenslanders .. but today I found out the adorable Bert from Country Rugby League has been quarantined. THOSE FILTHY QUEENSLANDERS INFECTED NSW TOO! Is this some kind of Queensland sabotage scheme to help them win a fourth Origin series? We always knew all bad things came out of Queensland.

Meanwhile we are bloggers (ie we have no lives) so if Bert gets lonely he should just call us and we’ll come over with movies and braid his hair and entertain him. We can wear SARS masks in our NRL team colours and everything. We love you, Bert!

Bert works remotely from his Swine Flu bubble.

I’ll admit though, I am starting to feel a little bit sorry for Ben Hannant. First he gets publically outed with the runs, now he’s the NRL’s first Swine Flu casualty. Either there’s someone out there with a Ben Hannant voodoo doll and a really black sense of humour, or he played some really embarassing practical jokes on the other kids in primary school and has some violent humiliation karma stored up in the universe.

Ben Hannant gets increasingly lonely and desperate for friends in quarantine.

If I wasn’t scared of a) getting Swine Flu, and b) getting poked in the eye by one of his trotters, I would totally offer to give him a hug.

This story would also be a whole lot funnier if I wasn’t writing this …. from Queensland. We came up for a little long weekend Errol conference on the Gold Coast, and to see the Titans play the Dragons on Monday night, now we find ourselves in the middle of a fucking rugby league Swine Flu drama. Nothing worse than trying to deal with Swine Flu on a hangover. Right, Robbie Farah?

Lucky for all of us Israel Folau and Sam Thaiday have been holding jumpers over their faces while they walk around being filmed by the press. That’ll save us! Nothing stops disease like a knitted acrylic!

At least the Broncos tried. Apparently no one at the Dragons remembered to tell Darius ‘Astro’ Boyd that he is a Swine Flu pariah and wasn’t meant to be wandering around in the locker room at Skilled Stadium before the Dragons played the Titans.

And yes, that is Astro Boyd loitering in front of a bottle recycling bin, even though he is quite clearly not holding anything even close to a bottle. It’s possible this is because he is poorly informed about recycling, and just doesn’t understand what yellow lids mean. But I am 99% sure it was because he was ronery and just really wanted someone to talk to since the rest of the Dragons keep ignoring him cause he never passes the ball. I guess that’s a good thing, cause it means they probably won’t be infected. Kiki says thanks for being a ball-hog, Darius. V. considerate of you.

Turns out that one good thing about sucking as much as my Roosters do this season is that when you have no players selected for Origin, you get to stay safe from disease. We is healthy, healthy losers. I’m sorry, what did you say? Did you say I am clutching desperately at straws to distract myself from the fact that my team is now at the bottom of the ladder?

Pic. Anthony Johnson / smh.com.au

Well spotted, cause I was. On Sunday night when I was getting my face on for a night on the town in Surfers, Lozzy and Kiki kindly got me out of the shower and into the hall just so they could tell me that the Sharks had won a game … and my team was officially coming last. I literally lay down in the hall in my towel motionless for a good five minutes. Being better than the Sharks was all I had!

To make up for their two wins in a row, though, the Sharks Club mustered up another scandal involving Tony Zappia and his resignation. Well done, Sharkies. David Gallop says the NRL are gonna leave them to their own devices and won’t have an intervention. I say that’s a wasted opportunity.

Have you ever seen Intervention? That show is AMAZING. It’s the most addictive television I’ve ever seen. You know it’s wrong but you just can’t help watching. One time I even cried. If I was in charge I’d totally be holding a Sharks intervention. They could hold it in the Shire and televise it to raise enough money to pay off the Sharks’ ridiculous debt. People love watching other people who have worse problems than they do. It would be a ratings blockbuster. Sigh.

Meanwhile since Brett Finch left the Eels to go to the Storm, it seems like it’s partytime all around. The Eels now have Daniel (Son of Pete) Mortimer and Jeff Robson in the halves and flattened the Knights at home. Turns out Dan Dan Mortimer doesn’t just have the prettiest eyes in league, he also has a fucking nifty kicking game.

And my favourite double-double-named NRL player Fui Fui Moi Moi has taken over from Steve Matai as Ray Warren’s fave hairstyle in the NRL. Rabs never talks about his man Matai’s cornrows anymore … it’s all Fui Fui and his braids. He thinks, and I quote: “It’s a celebration!” And according to the Queensland Channel 9 sports reporter, his ‘hair tips’ match his jersey. HAIR TIPS? Like … a big book of hair tips? God Queenslanders are so weird.

Pic. Darren Pateman

I think it makes him look youthful … no?

And down in Melbourne Finch is working it Johnathan Thurston style:

…. it’s Brett Finch, BITCH.

No wonder he’s so happy. He’s obviously in the honeymoon stages of a Cooper Cronk bromance. Peeing together in the street, and rocking out shirtless in the locker room together. The Melby dressing room is starting to look like Arq (aka shirtless heaven) … so I totally get it. I have had some damn good nights out at Arq in my time.

In my mind they’re dancing to Kelly Rowland and the Cher megamix.

*discos out of the post*

Thanks as always to BS for the fabulous screen caps. Love you!

So apparently this week, rugby league is brought to you by The West Wing.  Shit is getting political out Parramatta way. The Parra club board elections are coming up and the 3P rebel squad are running for election.  Except apparently CEO Denis Fitzgerald has been busy sitting in his office chair and stroking his fluffy cat and devising an evil and ingenious way to ensure that doesn’t happen.  ELECTORAL FRAUUUUUD.

If you’re wondering, the Board is supposed to be securing victory by mailing out $30 vouchers for the Parra Leagues Chinese restaurant to any member who sounds vaguely Asian, valid for the night of the election, to try and lure them into the club and get them to vote. Who knew that Chinese people were such fans of Denis Fitzgerald? Not I.

May not be actual Parramatta CEO

First of all, what kind of hack is the person who came up with this? *cough Denis*cough* Couldn’t they at least have come up with something original?  At least two Fijian coups, one US impeachment and the Bolshevik revolution were made possible by the mass distribution of Chicken Chow Mein. Plus this is quite clearly identical to the plot George W. Bush ran in Florida to shonkily defeat Al Gore in 2000. You know it’s true.

Anyway, if I was a 3P supporter, instead of getting riled up, I’d just rest easy. Sif the plan is going to work. When have you ever seen an Chinese person eating Chinese food at a leagues club? I’ve been to many a leagues club in my time, and never have I ever seen an Asian person of any kind putting down their laminated menu and ordering the Sweet and Sour Pork.  Those places are straight up for whities.

I kinda love them though, so if anyone who doesn’t enjoy Leagues Club Sang Choi Bow got one of those babies in the mail, or there are any lurking around Parra, feel free to send it on to Errol HQ. The boys love an outing. Plus better they come to us than end up with the players. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. STOP GIVING JARRYD HAYNE FOOD VOUCHERS.

Meanwhile know what we’re gonna talk about next? Not the Roosters.  Come on down … Tigers!  I kind of enjoy seeing the Storm get beaten. I like to pretend that it’s really Queensland, and they’re being beaten by the Blues. Siiiiigh. The crowd at Leichhardt was going crazy, and at the very last moment ‘the colt from Campbelltown’ Chris Lawrence ran in a truly surprising try.

Benji Marshall does what we all want to.
Pic. Steve Christo

You see Billy Slater is apparently the world’s fastest man, strongest man, best man at driving hatchbacks, best fry cook and possibly Jesus. TV told me so. And I accepted this because I adore TV and don’t believe it would ever lie to me, but apparently … TV WAS WRONG. There is something faster than Billy the Kid and that something is Chris Lawrence.

Chris adopts the downward dog pose to express his joy
Pic. Steve Christo

Even Robbie Farah lifted after his struggles of an effort in Round 5 and gave us an amazing score for our fantasy team.

Do I get to stay in the Wildcats now?

I hope the boys keep up their winning streak too. If nothing else so that Tim Sheens can keep his coaching job.

Meanwhile, Tigers coach Tim Sheens said while his team had suffered two disappointing losses after a reasonable start to the season it was “not at wrist-cutting situation or anything like that”.

Is that a technical footy term, Tim? This is a man who does not have a future in counselling and psychology.

I do have future careers picked out for a few of the boys thought. Craig Fitzgibbon is already Frank-Paul Nuuausala’s recipe-advisor and organic food guru … if he can get Frank-Paul slimmed down, I will be all over the Fitzy’s Cooking range of books and dvds.  Just like Paula Deen! But bald!

I also can’t wait till Steve Price quits footy and hits the road as a deadpan, self-deprecating, Stephen wright-esque comedian:

When captain Steve Price pointed to the posts for Kemp’s penalty, he thought they had done enough. “Then we went in a huddle [for full-time], and I realised it was 16-16,” he said. “Maybe not enough oxygen getting to the brain. It’s funny … but it’s not really funny.”

Oh, Steve.

Meanwhile the other day we announced on Twitter that Michael Gordon is totally in the running for a nomination as Hottest Bitch in League, 2009. And like, actually in the running, not just alive and breathing, which seems to be the only requirement for being in the NSW State of Origin squad.

… we think that counts as a seconding of that nomination. Thanks Joshie Morris.

Screencap from the lovely Art1e.

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.

EELS VS DRAGONS

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.

PANTHERS VS STORM

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.

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

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

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

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

In natural light, Kiki’s bronzer looked decidedly greenish

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This brawl’s for you, Jesus!

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

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

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

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

So we’re officially back in footy season, hurrah! And obviously we don’t just bring you our incredibly informative game recaps, we also like to hook you up with what the teams get up to at training and recovery. 

If nothing else, it should help you with your tips.

You certainly shouldn’t listen to me and my ‘intuition’, because after round 4 I am now sitting on an average of just over four correct tips a week.  Four!  Out of Eight!  

Do you know what that means? It means that my brain … my human brain, that biological miracle, that unbelievably complex labyrinth of nerve and synapse; when it comes to tipping, using my brain is pretty much as effective as using a coin.  My brain is no smarter than a small round disc made of brass. True story.

Anyway. Last week it was all about the water recovery session. And I’ve realised you can pretty much track the boys progress by their water sessions. Check out the Raiders last week rocking out in the Canberra aquatic center:

Is T Camps … singing? Why I do believe he is. Just bustin out a few showtunes as he jogs around the lap pool. Washing away the memory of getting beaten by the Eels and that bitch of a ref who disallowed their AWESOME split-scrum try.

And just look at the boys rocking out in the background.  For some reason we especially love the thought of Trevor Thurling joining in.  Or as some of our fans like to call him, Sexmachine Trevor Thurling.

There really IS nothin like a dame!

End result: a reinvigorated attack and glorious victory over the Cowboys down in Canberra.

Compare and contrast Boromir from Lord of the Rings Nathan Hindmarsh over at the Eels’ recovery:

No one ever wants to re-enact Grease with me.

… and if they do I never get to be Kenicki.

and the happy-clappy Roosters having superfuntimes rolling around on the grass at Moore Park:

How happy is Shaun Kenny-Dowall?  He just REALLY LOVES ROLLING.  I tried so so hard to stay pissed off at the Roosters after their loss to the Tigers, then I saw this and … I can’t stay mad at you babies.  Especially you Shaun Kenny-Dowall.  I adore him.  I have no idea why, I JUST DO.  

We even have a special Errol nickname for him that I’m only allowed to yell from the sideline and not allowed to say on Errol.  The girls have forbidden me, because … well because it sounds kind of offensive.  But I swear I SAY IT WITH LOVE.

And the point is this: when the miserable pool-going Parra came up against the We!Love!Rolling! Roosters at the SFS, the Roosters took those bitches down.  A happy team is a winning team. It’s just Fact. You can’t argue with science!

So I’m going to save you, oh, about 2 seconds indecision, and tell you not to waste your money on the Sharks this weekend. Bitches are miserable. Just look at them:

Toops looks like he really regrets not being able to stick with the Roosters and roll his cares away. He is so going home to eat an entire cheesecake and pass out in a food coma in his boxers. Ben Pomeroy also probably has several bruises.

The Pom has difficulty walking with flippers. Even though the flippers aren’t on his feet.

And I’m gonna put my money on the Dragons too. For one thing because Jamie ‘Tiny Dancer’ Soward and Baby Chase Stanley look like happy little kids out there on their surfboards. But also because Lozzy might cut me if I don’t.

You see Jamie Soward has worked his mojo on Lozzy. He won her over with his cheeky grin and the little dance he does before he kicks for goal.  You know the one: the chicken dance in a circle, followed by the march, the pause, and the little prance as he kicks.  The one Phil Gould describes as ‘like my cat about to do a shit’. Why do you think we call him Tiny Dancer?

Well it seems Tiny Dancer is rapidly catching up to T Camps as her favourite footy player, and I always have to support the girls’ teams. I’m a good friend like that.