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.

Welcome back, babies!  Have you missed our footy recaps in the off-season? My guess is yes.  Because we are funny bitches.  Actually, that’s a lie.  More like football is a funny bitch.  How did we live without it for so many months?

I’ve already cracked up once today at the news that Denis Fitzgerald wants to ban the Parramatta players from the booze.  Now you know we don’t take league dramas lightly … but really, Denis?  Really?  This is the plan?  If this is the best they got, then dammmmmn league is in trouble.  In the brilliant words of Nathan Hindmarsh: “good luck policing that”.

Best of all: the news crews asked the boys what they thought as they arrived back at the airport from New Zealand … and Joel Reddy was carrying a bag full of duty free booze.  Um … it’s for my girlfriend? Oh yeah, this is gonna work a treat.  I’m sure the urine tests will also do wonders for player-admin relations.

Meanwhile I’m recapping the Eels-Warriors game, if you’re wondering, because there is not a chance of me recapping my boys playing the Rabbitohs. That shit was brutal.  Once I peeled myself off the ground and stopped trying to gnaw off my own leg, then lost interest and ate a biscuit instead, I repressed all the memories for my own mental health.  So this is what you get.  Now onto the footy.

The boys are playing down in New Zealand, which means that the Warriors have to run onto the field through that really terrifying dripping, dark sewer tunnel that leads from the change room out onto Mt. Smart Stadium. Considering that the Warriors also wear black, and are being led out by a phalanx of little kids, the whole thing is very Law & Order: SVU. Dun-dun.

To the tunnel! Emergency in the tunnel!

They are still not running out to Patti Smith ‘The Warrior’, which I feel is a total travesty.  It’s as if the staff down there don’t even read Errol.

Because the game is at Mount Smart, we also get the Kiwi Sky commentary team. I know they have names, but I don’t know them.  Let’s just call them Tum and Phul.

The Kiwi boys are super emotional tonight, and to be honest, so am I.  The incredible, ageless Steve Price is about to play his 300th game of Rugby League.  But also, everyone is still in mourning for Sonny Fai, after his loss in the off-season.  The sadness on all the team and friends’ faces during a minute of silence is almost too much to bear.  RIP, Sonny.

Gordon Tallis pops his head up on my TV to congratulate Pricey, and tell us all “I dunno how you can be that pretty and play in the front row”.  HE IS PRETTY.  I’m so glad somebody else noticed.  And even more glad it was Gordie. I totally have a dirty old man crush on Steve Price.

Steve Price is also pretty much a miracle man because:

a) he is a Dirty Queenslander, and;

b) we somehow love him nonetheless.

SEE?

How can you not love that? It’s so … tender. Steve Price and Scotty Prince should be studied for science.

The game starts with the Warriors all over possession like me all over a scruffy-haired boy at the Brighton Bar … but less pervy.  One of our Errol favourites Manu Vatuvei almost dives through on the left hand wing for a try.  THE BEAST.  He’s cut off his fro, but that bitch still looks fierce.

I should admit that I tipped the Kiwis in our ErrolTips competition, so I almost spill my drink in joy when Joel Moon slip’n'slides under a defender for a Warriors try.

Joel Moon has just moved down from Queensland to play for the Warriors, and I’ll admit I’m not a Moon afficionado, but I’ll take a wild guess that this guy:

… not a big fan of cold New Zealand weather. He definitely doesn’t look happy that he has to wear pants on the field.  The clothes!  They burn!

Ropati, Moon and Henderson are lurking around the tryline, and the Warriors look kinda scary today.  After teasing me for minutes, they send in Russell Packer for a try. I have never heard of this Russell Packer, which may be because I generally show little to no interest in anything that involves New Zealand.  Nonetheless, that is a cracker of a name.  I would enjoy more men named Russell in general life.

Disclaimer: May not be actual Russell Packer.

Apparently Denan Kemp is the new Kiwi kicker, which reminds me that Michael Witt has been unceremoniously booted from the team and has flounced off to … play union or something. Traitor. 12-0.

If I haven’t mentioned Parramatta much, it’s because they haven’t done much. Krisnan Inu proves me wrong by taking a lovely catch from a high ball.  Luke Burt joins in and pops a ball to Ben Smith for an Eric Grothe, Jr try.

Did anyone else forget about Eric Grothe? I’ll admit it, I did.  Which is sad, because he is kind of a hot bitch.  Things are always more emotional when they involve hot people.  Tum and Phul enjoy rubbing in the fact that back in 2005 he was playing tests, while in 2008 he was playing reserve grade with boys ten years younger than he is. It’s super mean and I enjoy it.

I seriously thought he was still in reserve grade, but apparently he’s been moved out of remedial and back into the big boys’ class.  Good for you, mister.

In the process of crossing the line, Eric Jr also becomes the first man to flash his arse in 2009. FIRST CRACK OF THE YEAR!  His family must be so proud.  Burt converts for 12-6.

Vatuvei makes another fabulous break, and Michael Luck in his awesome retro headband comes up against Nathan Hindmarsh.  I am so completely overjoyed … Hindy’s seventies hair is BACK.  *high kick*

Russell Hammond we love your work!

I like to think he found out about the 2008 Errol Awards and was so devastated not to win ‘Best Hair‘ that he grew it back just for us.  Between this and Joel Reddy’s seventies mop my pants are really enjoying this game.  What can I say?  I love a man with long hair.

Fien sets up a Hohaia try and Tum and Phul use the phrase “in the thick of things”.  I shudder. [I'd like to point out that we were all chatting on msn when this happened, which meant Kiki and Sassy both e-yelled 'THUCK OF THUNGS!!' at the same time. This is the kind of behind the scenes gold you guys miss out on - lozzy] Parra’s Jarryd Hayne gives away a penalty and Tum and Phul scream ‘JARRYD HAYNE YOU ARE DEADSET KIDDING YOURSELF”.  I love an unbiased commentary team. Can I also say that Hayne is playing in the number sux jersey and I am really uncertain that he can pull this off. It unnerves me. Anyway, carry on.

Fui Fui Moi Moi smashes the ball from Brent Tate and it’s halftime. 18-6, Warriors.   Cut up the oranges!

We come back onto the field and Eric Grothe starts doing his best to be sent back to remedial class.  He is deadset Fumbles McGee.

Try to Hohaia, try to Hayne, OHMYGODIMISSEDYOUSOMUCHFOOTBALL! NEVEREVERLEAVEMEAGAIN!

Meanwhile I totally take back everything I said about Tum and Phul, because Fierce Manu Vatuvei smashes into Jarryd-with-a-Y Hayne and they carol: “that was SPECTACULAR! … if not illegal”.

They have their priorities straight.

Eric Grothe knocks on and cracks it. He is thisclose to lying down and banging his fists on the ground. Someone doesn’t want to have to go back to using paper scissors, am I right?

Josh Cordoba is pulled up for a penalty, which is clearly a penalty of LIES. A Warrior quite clearly popped the ball out with a knee in the tackle.  I will say that in general I lovvve the two ref system though. So fast! No video ref! It makes me happy in my pants. Sure we have an awkward moment where one ref calls knock on, and one calls play on, but I figure they can just resolve any problems like that in the same way we resolve problems in the Errol office. By mixing cocktails, watching movies and braiding each other’s hair.

And much as we finished off the first half, Fui Fui Moi Moi farewells the game by absolutely smashing a Warrior, braids a-flying. Michael Luck gets carted off, and … curtain. 26-18.

Football, I’m so glad you’re back.

So yeh, it’s Wednesday and I am only just now writing my weekend recap. People have been hassling my ass since Saturday night to write about the Dragons. CALM DOWN BITCHES! I know Errol is your crack but Aunty Kiki has got Things To Do. Like spending 20 minutes in the deli section at Woolworths trying to decide what sort of cheese to get (I went with Jarlsberg if you’re wondering) and watching Law and Order SVU repeats while I organise my nailpolish by season. Everyone knows you can’t rock black nails past August and I like to be prepared. OKAY?

Dad and I decided it was worth the trek to the Cavernous Shithole (aka ANZ Stadium) to watch our Dragons in action. Turned out to be totally worth it. What a cracker of a game! More a thrashing than a cracker but whatevs. My babies breathed fire and burnt those Eels to a crisp. Oh yeh!

Let’s break things down shall we?

1) I spent the entire game yelling things like GO HOT BITCH! And GOOD BOY FLOSSY! EXCELLENT WORK! People kept shooting me glares of death and confusion. It had me perplexed. Until I realised not everyone in the world reads Errol. Poor unfortunate souls, living their whole lives without Knowing our genius. I will not rest until I hear Rabs saying things like “and that’s a beautiful try from Hot Bitch Cooper”. Then Gus chimes in with “set up by a maaaagical offload from Flossy Nightingale”. WILL.NOT.REST.

2) The dackings. Oh, the dackings. Obviously my eyes are always a) on the ball and b) on the ass. I’m a woman, I can multitask. Theres alot of subtle arse crack flashing in league, but Saturday night was a deadset Assathon. ASSATHON O8! I said out loud OH THE GAYS ARE GONNA LOVE THIS, much to the distaste of the old men sitting next to me. There were four separate dackings. It must be a record. FOUR! Three to Josh Morris, one to Jarryd Hayne.

Dedicated journalists posess a great attention to detail. They go to painstaking efforts to bring you all the facts. No half assed (heheh assed) reporting for me. So with no further ado I bring to you, in an Errol exclusive, not one..not even three…but ALL FOUR dackings!

ONE

TWO

 THREE

 FOUR

Oh yeh, I’m gonna win a Walkley for this shit.

3) Now lets move from gratutious nudity to heart warming fuzziness. Kiddies, I shed an actual tear the other night. Let me make this clear, I am not a particularly emotional person. Well not for a girl. Everyone I know thinks I’m a man trapped in a womans body. Or as my best mate so eloquently put it “I love you because you’re like a guy….but with tits!”. Nice.

I have an aversion to public weeping but oh my god those Dragons bastards, they killed me. KILLED ME! First of all they bring out groups of tiny kids to sit on tiny tiny chairs while giant Dragons players read them books. Apparently the Dragons are involved in some sort of reading program. The sight of a hulking forward perched on a teeny little chair whilst animatedly reading a childrens book got me right in the ovaries.

THEN, in my softened up state, the bastards play a farewell montage dedicated to Brownie, Gaz, Ryles and McGregor. I’m talking slow-mo footage, sad music, the whole works. AND I CRIED. In public! I AM SO EMBARRASSED.

4) I’m not gonna lie, watching Big Dell score a hat trick was one of my Best Footy Moments to date. Another was when Michael Devere had a giant gash in his head put back together with a staple gun on the sideline during State of Origin. AMAZING. Everytime Dell even looked like getting the ball the crowd just lost their minds. Only Dell could create actual atmosphere inside that stadium.

abcnet.au

When he grabbed that intercept and scored in the middle of the posts I may or may not stood up and yelled GO YOU GOOD THING, pumped my fist and then knocked over my entire drink. It really is a mystery why I’m single. Such grace, such elegance.

Meanwhile my Dad has a total mancrush on Dell. He talked about him literally the entire game. Yeh yeh, I get it Dad…the man is an amazing athlete.

5) Speaking of mancrushes, I am sensing the formation of some serious Man Love within the Dragons. For years Hot Bitch Cooper and Gaz were the faux couple of the red and white. But things have changed. Gaz is leaving. Leaving his love behind. Since his announcement I’ve been truly worried about Hot Bitch and his obviously broken heart. Well I can worry no more!

In the middle of the game I get a text from Sassy saying “I think Hot Bitch is moving on. Look at the way he’s smiling at Dell. It’s LOVE Kiki!”.

And she’s right. It was a beautiful sight. I haven’t seen Hot Bitch smile like that in MONTHS. Coops doesn’t need you any more Gaz! All he needs is the Big Dell. Together they are side by side on the piano keyboard, living together in perfect haaaaarmony.

And oh the joys that Dell has ahead of him. Like a romantical evening on the harbour with an underweared Hot Bitch.

Cosmopolitan Magazine

I hope they don’t mind if I join them. And by ‘join them’ I mean putter along behind their cruiser in a tinny, looking through binoculars and yelling HOT BITCH PLEASE LIVE IN MY PANTS. It’s gonna be great.

(Assathon pics from the lovely Artie at FM forums and our fave blog)

I am shocked, boys. Shocked and appalled! I turn my back for a week to watch a little bit of Olympics and you all start turning all Lord of the Flies on me.

This week has been yet more dramaz and violence ahoy in the NRL.  As if we didn’t have enough.

Anyway, as we go back through the violent tendencies from this week, I’m going to give you my observations in point form. We can pretend each one is a ninja star.

* My Roosters. I am so, so unbelievably glad I was out downing voddies and dancing to the Misshapes instead of watching this. We were crushed 30-6.  Let’s just say if this really were Lord of the Flies, the Storm were the choir boys. That’s all I have to say about that.

* Ben Roberts has escaped his assault charge with a $2,500 fine. By my caluclations this means there must now be TWO Bulldogs still in possession of their liberty, not on the run from the law, and fit enough to be able to play for team this week. HALLELUJAH!  That’s the most they’ve had in weeks!  Jessica and that guy who wears the wooden spoon hat to doggies games will be overjoyed.

* There was enough passive-aggression on the field between the Tigers and Parramatta Eels on Monday to outdo even Benny Roberts and his assaults. I don’t know if it was because Brett Hodgson finally found Oh Errol and was offended by my Starlight Hodgson comments, but bitch was pissed. I know this because he complained even more than Brett Finch.

And I don’t know if it’s due to a new end of season Atkins diet but the Fattamatta Eels are back in some kind of form. Running! Scoring tries! Not puffing so much!

I’m thisclose to joining Big Blog just so I can comment on Nathan Hindmarsh’s blog and ask for their secret. It’s low carb, isn’t it?

I think the wild weather sent the boys from the west a little Lord of the Flies too, because Bryce Gibbs took out Krisnan Inu with a high arm in a tackle and Corey Payne went for Jarryd ‘Baby’ Hayne’s face in a retro facial massage.

Or is it jealousy? Are Corey and Bryce just pissed that they didn’t get nominated in the Errol awards this year? ENVY IS SO UNBECOMING, BOYS. If you have broken Krisnan’s adorable sunshiney smile or Baby Hayne’s snuggly little face I will get all Ben Roberts on your ass. Trust.

Feleti Mateo didn’t need any help though. They say he injured a knee, we know better. In his few weeks off he got a taste for Ranch Dressing and daytime tv and bitch doesn’t wanna give it up.

Now that’s a ranch-dressing belly if ever I saw one.

Do you think it’s a coincidence it happened just as he was seeing what it’s like to play a full game back in the first grade side? More like he started to feel tingles down his left arm and realised what we all firmly believe: that intense exercise is tres unpleasant. He’s totally faking this. WE SEE THROUGH YOU FELETI.

(Pssst – come over next week if you want to watch Oprah together, bb)

* Souths fans are clearly going crazy on the island too, because as South Sydney were unexpectedly demolishing Manly on the weekend, one crazy Rabbitohs fan decided the best way to express his joy was by throwing a metal socket at Steve Matai. A metal socket? Does anyone even know what that is? Like … a light socket? God I am so confused.

Confused in so many ways. You’re winning. How does that translate to a socket to Steve Matai’s head? I already explained last time that Matai’s cornrows do not amount to head protection. Yes, he may have a cornrow fringe now – which, by the way Steve, I really enjoy.  V flattering - but bitch is still human and this primal socket-throwing stuff is really quite dangerous.  (Well, it’s dangerous assuming a metal socket is what I think it is.  It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye!)

What’s next, the pig on a stick?

I also wanna give a shout out to Anthony Watmough who had a shocker of a game against the Rabbitohs. It wasn’t your fault, Tony. You may not know it, but the universe was Not Happy with you on Sunday. So it wasn’t that you lost the plot, so much as the planets gave you a massive kick in the face. Here’s a little excerpt from your Sunday horoscope:

You are so distracted at the moment and need to understand which activities and people are of value or of prime importance.

UNCANNY, right?  No wonder you kept knocking on and missing tackles.  You were astrologically distracted.

If you want to start consulting the stars before next week’s match to see if your performance will improve, I highly recommend Astro Barry.

* Tim Sheens doesn’t want to be left out either, so he’s decided to call back some Tigers greats to relive the seventies, maybe slap each other around a little bit, and promote their next game during the week. Really Tim Sheens.  Selling football with violence?  I expected more of you.

Sigh.  I just hope things are a little more sunshine and rainbows this weekend in the league.  All this injury and drama is so exhausting.  I had to have two tumblers of voddie and dry just watching the football on Monday night.

So in the interest of my mental health, and not getting cirrhosis of the liver, all Reni and I are asking you, babies, is:

Give peace a chance.

Hello children! Aunty Kiki has her right arm back! TOOT TOOT! It’s still hurty but at least I can type and cut my own food up again. It’s pretty exciting I’m not gonna lie. Also due to only being able to do my makeup with my left hand, I’ve spent the last 4 weeks looking like Marge when Homer set the makeup gun to whore. Not pretty.

I know I usually do the Dragons recaps, but Sassy has banned me from doing so this week. For some reason she thinks I am ruled by my emotions (BULLSHIIIIT!! I AM TOTALLY IMPARTIAL!) and can’t be subjective enough to write about Gaz this close to his defection. So! I chose Manly v Parra because I quite like both teams. Okay who am I kidding, I just wanted an excuse to watch the Hot Pioneer (aka David Williams) in action. And photoshop him.

I was planning on doing the usual play-by-play recap but honestly apart from a few flashes of brilliance, this game was boring as shit. So let us just review the 5 most important points of the evening. Important to me anyway, and that’s what matters.

1) Parramatta is fat…FAT FAT FAT!

The commentators have been alluding to this glaringly obvious fact for the past few weeks. But they are more polite than I. They say things like ‘Parramatta have problems with their fitness’ and ‘the Eels all seem to be a similar body shape’. Guys, its okay…you can say it. The boys from the west have turned into fatty mcfat fats. The mayors of Fat-town. The fattest bastards in allllll the land.

Perhaps our favourite perennial fattie Piggy Riddell has been sharing nutrition tips with his team mates. Its been well publicised that Piggy shed a few kilos at the start of the season. But the diet was clearly too restrictive. Facist diet! It’s not his fault he has a healthy appetite.
Now he thinks some people are too obsessed with his skinfolds and eating habits..

But the hunger is still there. Yesterday at the launch of Parramatta’s new sponsorship deal, Riddell was famished.

Yes! People are obsessed! FIGHT THE POWER PIGGY! And he has. Leagues answer to Carl Williams has bravely stood up to the facists by steadily gaining weight over the season. He has clearly fallen off the wagon. And taken the rest of the Eels with him.

This week Parramatta’s Fat Issue has reached a critical level. Their brilliant-on-paper backline has been dealt a severe blow with the sudden withdrawl of Feleti Mateo. The official story is injury, but dear readers…..I know what really happened. That fat bitch drowned in a vat of ranch dressing on Thursday night. ERROL SPEAKS THE TRUTH PEOPLE.

Look at that gut. Seriously….look at it. I’ve never seen a gut like that on a man before, let alone a footy player. It’s kind of amazing. Feleti my darling, it’s okay. I too struggle with flat stomachness. Lets hang out! Sizzler next Wednesday night?

2) Brett Stewart continues to make me feel bad about myself

Seriously Brett, stop it. Stop being a full blown diabetic and being an elite athlete at the same time. I think it’s a huge accomplishment when I drag my alcohol soaked carcass to pilates a few times a year, and here you are being all excellent and high achieving while suffering a serious chronic illness. Rubbing it in my face every single week. Bastard.

3) Matt Ballin should live in my pants

Not only is his form brilliant of late, he is also a very very attractive man. He makes our ladytarts* smile. I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it until now. Okay thats a lie…Sassy noticed it. And sent a helpful text message that read something like OMG REVELATION KIKI…MATT BALLIN IS A HOT HOOKER!!! Yes, yes he is.

(Note – Lozzy, the former Hater of Footy and newly minted Manly fan found the second photo on her OWN. She has definitely drunk the football Koolaid.)

You know what else Matt Ballin can do? Increase our physical fitness…personally. I’m not being creepy, he is an actual personal trainer. Of course it would involve us having to travel all the way to Narrabeen to be trained, but I think it’s worth it to have our hammies stretched like this -

Oooh, its a deep burn.

4) Gus and Rabs further descend into madness

AND HILARITY! God, I love these two. Rab’s mild dementia and Gus’s blind rage…they are great. Matty asks them if they have ever seen a fatter 5/8 than Piggy on Friday night. Rabs replies something like -

“Nothing wrong with being fat…..though you make a good point. Why are you and Gus so obsessed with physique anyway?’

Gus announces “well when I next to such a physical specimen as yourself every Friday night, its hard not to be Rabbits”.

AMAZING.

5) The Hot Pioneer can do everything

When I say ‘do’ everything I mean ‘attempt’. His goal kicking wasn’t exactly El Masri-esque but I was impressed he gave it a go. Partcipation award baby! I mean who knew he could kick too? I guess when you’re on the run from the law on horseback you gotta be multiskilled. I also enjoyed the close ups of him talking to himself before every kick. Ned Kelly beard + self talking = hot crazy man.

If it wasn’t already blindingly obvious, we at Errol are completely obsessed with this man. Most people say he would be hot if he shaved the beard of, but we disagree. We say, unequivocally…KEEP THE BEARD BABY.

And one extra point. Can someone please explain to me the point of the video ref using ‘Refs Call’?? It is RIDICULOUS. If the ref can make a call, why doesn’t he? What in the hell is the point of sending it to the VR and then making it yourself anyway? It makes no sense and its a bloody outrage. I’m writing an strongly worded letter to Robert Finch as we speak.

*Copyright Lozzy

HQ photos of Hot Pioneer and our new personal trainer from the Manly Fan Gallery. Genius photoshopping by me.

I’ve decided I will recap one game per week. Chosen at my discretion. This week we will be examining the clash between my beloved St George Dragons and the Parramatta Eels. There is a palpable tension between these two clubs. I’m not quite sure why, but I think it might have something to do with the time Trent Barrett (ex Dragon) punched PJ Marsh (Ex Eel) in the head….from behind. It was special.

We start the game with a minutes silence for the late Jack Gibson. RIP old mate. Thanks to some ridiculous game sharing scheme it’s being played at the cavernous shithole that is ANZ Stadium. A stadium built for 80,000 at only a quarter full does not an atmosphere make. It has all the ambience of a Medicare office.

As the players line up it strikes me just how Caucasian the Dragons are. So many whities! This is becoming a rarity. With the recent influx of Polynesians into the NRL most games are starting to look like Poly Day at Gumnut Cottage.

Speaking of Polynesians, god I love Fui Fui Moi Moi. Yes, that is his real name. Not only does he have the greatest name in rugby league (and possibly the world), he also looks and plays somewhat like a bouncer that wandered off his door, found a Parra jersey and ran onto the field. Any man that makes his living as a professional athlete yet still sports a sizeable gut deserves my adulation. That includes you Mark Riddell and Shane Warne. LOVE!

Hot Bitch Cooper (also known as Matt) has thankfully made his return for the Dragons. Just as I was deciding that he is the only man alive that can carry off a rats tail I notice baby Chase Stanley is also sporting one. THEY ARE CONTAGIOUS! What is going on here boys?? I hate to admit it but Chase’s rattie doesn’t look altogether heinous. Still infinitely better than anything AFL players are sporting. Oh yeh, I went there.

7 minutes in and Eric Grothe steamrolls over Nighthingale to score a brilliant try. His tattoos are questionable and he plays in a cover band called Three Day Grothe (yes really) but damn that boy is attractive and I would like him to live in my pants. Burt converts and Parramatta are up 6-0. The genius that is Ray Warren discusses Joel Reddy’s hair with much consideration – “I like the mop of hair Reddy is wearing, it reminds of the old fashion of Nathan Hindmarsh”. Only Rabs could discuss ‘wearing’ hair like it was a hat. Heart heart.

Baby Chase looks sure to score a try in the corner but Hayne busts out some brilliant cover defence and denies him. Hayne HAS to play on the wing for NSW this year. Hear that selectors? Sure his form took a slide after some bitches shot at him from the street, but bullets flying past your ears tends to make one a tad nervous. Not everyone has the constitution of Jason Moran. Luckily for league fans everywhere, it looks like his confidence is back. Welcome back Jarryd- with- a- Y, we missed you baby!

Nightingale pulls off the perfect offload. Perfect except for the fact he passed it to the opposition. Nice work Jase! He soon redeems himself by bravely rushing off the line to land a huge tackle on Wagon….only to collect a pointy shoulder in the throat, which momentarily crushes his windpipe. BREAAATHE JASE! BREAAATHE! He’s a fairly small winger by todays standards, but what he lacks in size he makes up for in doggedness. Plus he has dimples. What’s not to like?

31 minutes, Grothe coughs up the ball and the Dragons go in for a try. Hooray! Oh wait, the ref does the dreaded rectange mime. Nooooo! He’s going to the video ref. Shit shit shit. Inexplicably the video ref rules that Hot Bitch Cooper stripped the ball, thus ruling a No Try. It is obvious to anyone with a set of working eyes that the ball simply came loose in the force of the tackle. All the commentators blow up, as do I. THE DRAGONS WERE ROBBED! ROOBBBED! THE VIDEO REF IS RUINING THE GAME!! 2 minutes later Hindmarsh puts Burt in for another Parra try. Burt converts his own try.

34 minutes and Mark ‘Chesty Bond’ Gasnier creates magic out of nothing and unselfishly puts Baby Chase in for try in the corner. This bitch is pure class. Phil Gould announces he is the best centre in the game, and the best he’s ever seen. The ethnically mysterious Jamie Soward sends in a cracker of a kick and converts. We go to half time with Parra leading 12-6.

I endure endless ads for Jim Beam, Bunnings and Brut and wonder why the advertisers haven’t cottoned onto the fact that women watch footy too. How about an ad for us once in awhile fellas??

The second half kicks off. 45 minute and Soward intercepts a Parra ball and takes off down the field, momentarily losing his footing on the ice rink that as ANZ Stadium. Grothe puts his foot down, steams up the sideline out of nowhere and shuts down Soward. A penalty follows and we get another chance in excellent field position. Soward makes another bust but the Dragons bomb another try in a way that only they can. Nice boys. And by nice I mean frustrating as hell and want to slap you all. Really hard.

51 minutes and Jarryd-with-a-Y goes in for a try. He plays for the opposition but I can’t help but be glad for him. He’s just so damn lovable. Again Burt converts with little effort. Hot Bitch Cooper answers with steaming through the defence and putting Nightingale in for his second try. BRILLIANT! Soward converts and its 18-12. AND WE’RE BAAACK IN THE GAAAAME! Maybe. Come on boys! We can do this!

The Dragons try their 87th charge down of the game and it ends in diaster with them being soundly bundled into touch. Someone called Matt Keating punts a brilliant 40/20 kick for Parramatta putting the Eels in perfect field positon. Brett ‘British Teeth ‘Finch wisely kicks a field goal. I suffer a minor stroke. Apparently the aforementioned tension between the teams has dissipated as we witness Eels Piggy and Hindy having a nice little chat to Dragons forward Jason Ryles…..whilst packing the scrum. There are grins and affectionate head pats for everyone. Back in the day scrums were pits of macho posturing, now they provide a convenient chat break. Excellent.

79 minutes , the boys in red try ANOTHER charge down (i think we know what point Brownie has been hammering in this past week). Hot Bitch Cooper streaks away and scores a magnificent try. Its the rats tail, its aerodynamic i tells ya! Soward converts. But it’s too little, too late. My heart lies in pieces on the floor.

Is it 2009 yet??