Boring story time: last week I was straight-up exhausted and generally feeling sorry for myself. So we went to see Harry Potter (seriously! so good!) and my friend Eddie brought me two separate home-made snack bags. One of barbecue shapes, and one of pick-n-mix lollies. PICK N MIX. IT’S EVEN BETTER THAN I REMEMBERED. HOW HAVE I NOT HAD THIS FOR SO LONG?

And in an attempt to ease the pain of the off-season here’s a little online pick’n'mix of footy goodness for you to enjoy. A little sweet, a little savoury.

It’s been a week since Greg Inglis settled in at Redfern and apparently while we were all busy talking about whether his skin tone suits red and green (June Dally-Watkins is yet to call me back), things got complicated. Our Errol-idol Russell Crowe went on Jay Leno to tell the world how awesome he thinks GI is, then the Storm got cold feet about granting his release, AND GI got a massive write up in Danny Weidler’s column on the weekend right next to a piece about Paul Gallen taking off his shorts. No one wants to open the paper and see their name next to a pantsless forward, do they?

End result is that Channel 9 news says Souths are worried about GI’s mental and emotional health. The uncertainty is making him upset n that. Well, they say uncertainty. I say moving is a bitch and almost drove me to a nervous breakdown too, so no judgment if he’s had a little cry lately. At some point you just open a cupboard you thought was empty, see a giant pile of clothes and want to die a little.

I guess now we all know why he’s looking so bulky lately. IT’S CAUSE HE’S FULL OF FEELINGS.

And that bit just under his sternum? Pretty sure if you look closely you’ll see that particular bit of feeling is what they call ‘remorse for a late-night service station pie’. I have that too.

Meanwhile the kids at Ad Sense have updated the newest Broncos NRMA ad, which, weirdly, we love.

When did this happen? All of a sudden seeing men in maroon schill NRMA insurance brings joy to our hearts. We can’t pinpoint exactly when we started finding the Broncos endearing, but it may have been the moment we saw Sam Thaiday shaking down a vending machine and Ben Te’o in an apron. Benny and his cake-trolley are welcome at Errol HQ any time.

You heard it here first: NRMA is now responsible for one of the first ever instances of anything good coming out of Queensland.

The only other non-hateful thing they have north of the border that I can think of right now is, of course, the Indigenous All-Stars game in February on the Gold Coast (based on an idea by Preston Campbell, not from Queensland).

They’ve announced the team list and – as expected- the Indigenous squad is a festival of awesome.

It includes fearless leader Preston Campbell, newbie Ryan James (not from Queensland) and his gorgeous silky mane of curls, Tom ‘the Hugh Jackman of rugby league’ Learoyd-Lahrs (not from Queensland), as well as Jamie Soward (not from Queensland), who seems to have grown a truly delightful moustache this Movember.

Sadly, we have at least another two months until All-Stars 2011 comes around. All we can think of to tide ourselves over is the prospect of a really good Ashes series, complete with Warnie’s new tv show, the new range of sweet retro green and gold cricket merchandise at Rebel Sport, and the vague possibility that Stuart Broad and Mitchell Johnson might bitch each other out again. REMEMBER WHEN THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED? AND WE MADE FUNNY JOKES ABOUT IT? Those were some good times.

Michael Clarke agrees.

Pics. Getty Images

Well someone from the Melbourne Storm’s just become the most popular girl in school!

But first, let’s cover the breaking news stories of the day: Firstly, the Cronulla Sharks continue to win at life. Secondly, FACEBOOK IS EVIL. Apparently the police have warned the footy community that people might steal their identitiez on the interwebs, and Penrith have even banned Facebook and Twitter. Can I just say if they want anyone to travel around with Nigel Vagana and teach the boys how to be safe on the net (BE SAFE KIDS!), they should just send us. We’ll just slap them on the hands with rulers and yell MAKE YOUR FACEBOOK PRIVATE AND DON’T ADD RANDOMS. Done and done.

Now back to the breaking up of the Melbourne Big Four.

Now it’s a given in most people’s minds that, after the whole salary cap debacle, at least one of the Melbourne Storm’s Big Four will have to leave the loving embrace of Globo Gym. It’s just maths … right?

And no, I won’t call them the ‘Fab Four’. When did we start using that phrase? It makes Cooper Cronk, Cam Smith, Billy Slater and GI sound like a reincarnation of the Fab Five on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. This is patently ridiculous, because Cam Smith can’t cut hair, and even Carson Kressley is nowhere near as fierce as Fierce Bitch Cooper Cronk.

I rest my case.

I much prefer calling them the ‘Big Four’. It makes it sound like other clubs are hunting them down for sport, like big game hunters in Africa trying to bag the big five of African animals.

What was my point? I got distracted imagining Greg Inglis with a rhinoceros horn.

Oh right, competition is heating up between the NRL clubs to sort out who gets to take Greg Inglis home. Melbourne don’t want to let him go, plus the Broncos and the Titans both want him. But bitches better watch out, because someone new has stepped into the ring.

…. me? Really? He wants me?
pic. Getty Images

Oh yes, Russell Crowe wants GI for the Souths’ backline.

“He wants him bad,” a source close to Inglis said. “I’m not sure if it will happen but Russell will do what he can to get him there.”

HOW ARE THE OTHER TEAM OWNERS MEANT TO COMPETE WITH AN OSCAR WINNER? Not only does he have blue eyes like a husky and a voice as majestic as the Snowy Mountains, he also has a country estate AND he’s friends with Snoop Dogg. And according to the Tele, Rusty is ready to ‘wine and dine’ Greg, make some conversation about books and movies, order the second most expensive wine on the menu, and order the lobster for him in a chivalrous fashion until GI gives in and signs with the Rabbitohs. And by ‘signs with the Rabbitohs’, clearly I mean ‘takes his pants off’.

GI has since denied the whole story, but …. he would, wouldn’t he? This is Russell Crowe, after all. For all we know his phone calls have caveats of silence on them, like the CIA.

And our advice to GI is to play hard to get. That way hopefully he gets more play dates with Rusty. Genius, right? That’s what we’d do, anyway. Remember Rusty’s gladiator thumb (at the game where his Rabbitohs crushed my Roosters)? That was AWESOME. Russell is pretty much our favourite human ever, which is why we always defend him vehemently against the Fire Up! boys and hope to one day be loaded enough to follow his example and own our own footy teams. If Greg plays his cards right he could live our dream of being Russell’s bestie.

And if Sam Burgess is reading – who am I kidding, he totally is – don’t worry babe! We’re sure he still cares about you, too! When he took you to that movie set last year and told you Souths needed you, and only you, he totally meant it. He really does think your accent is adorable, and that you have a great tan and a beautiful smile. He just wants the freedom to see other people as well, you know?

And on the topic of pantslessness: remember last year when the Tigers had some kind of club-wide reading group going? The one where you could totally tell that Tim Moltzen was reading Sophie Kinsella’s ‘Confessions of a Shopaholic’? Good times.

Well this year, it seems like the Tigers have moved on from encouraging kids to read good, and moved onto spreading the gospel of pantslessness. Now THIS is something everyone at Errol HQ can get behind. Heh, behind. We totally support the Tigers’ efforts to end the tyranny of pants!

Nips Farah tries to start a locker-room pants off revolution ….

… and Chris Lawrence takes it to the set of the Footy Show.

We love the Tigers’ Crusade against Pants almost as much as we love the news that JAMAL HAS HIS FIRST ACTING JOB. Not only is he gonna be on the Footy Show, he’ll have a guest spot on ‘Cops’ with Gary Sweet. Congratulations, Jamal baby! Our dream of seeing Jamal remake ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ is getting closer and closer every day.

Now why don’t you take off your pants and tell us where you think GI will end up?

Thanks to the awesome Cronkster and Smithyman for the caps!

WHAT UP ERROL FANZ!

We are absolutely bloody exhausted right now. We spent the entire day at the Easter Show, most of that time was spent on the cattle lawn with NRL players and really cute kids. And wow, that lawn provided a powerful stench. It also provided Kiki with Embarassing Life Moment #567

Servo dude – “Busy day today?”

Kiki – “Yeh, I was working at the Easter Show. I had to go home and have a shower coz I smelt like poo.”

Servo dude – “…..”

Kiki – “I MEAN COW POO. NOT HUMAN POO. GOD.”

We’re also pretty proud, cause today is a big day bitches. Today is the WORLD PREMIERE OF ERROL TV. We have been talking about it for ages, creating videos just for Errol. But because we are us, it’s taken about 6 months to turn ideas into reality. But finally, we did it! Hoorah!

We are dedicated to our Errol readers. We will even spend a day in a tent that smells of shit.  Behold, the debut of Errol Tv! Featuring us and our double chins, Kiki’s unbelievably bad hair, Rhys Wesser, Luke Priddis, Trent Waterhouse, Roosters cuddles and a Tiger who really really loves hot dogs. Please know that when Sassy says ‘fans’, she does it with irony. And please watch out for the ARL dude running a training drill while smashing an entire ear of corn on a stick. Legend.

Apologies from Kiki re – the whole ‘I can’t be bothered doing my makeup so I’m gonna wear giant Top Gun sunnies that look terrible on camera’. It won’t happen again. Live and learn people.

Other highlights of the day, sadly not all of them caught on film, included:

* Mario Fenech burning Sassy: “you’re a funny girl, but not intentionally”.

* Mario telling us we were the best looking media there. Considering everyone else was a dude, this isn’t much of a compliment. BUT THANKS MUZ! We love ya.

* Sassy pretending to kick Andy from the NRL, only for him to literally flinch in fear. Awesome.

* We found ourselves needing a break from the poo smell. We soon discovered a place that served margaritas. Kiki asked “can we have one? is it 12pm yet?”. Sassy responded “11.40am, close enough. It’s tequila time.” Mmmm … frozen daytime alcohol.

* Kiki being so upset by Luke Priddis telling her she is too old for a Disney Princess showbag, she ended up buying a Tinkerbell stationery one instead.

She does love her new Tink pencil tin and matching Tink crayons (and created Sassy a truly spectacular artwork for her fridge) but deep down she really wanted a plastic tiara. DAMN YOU LUKE PRIDDIS.

And look how happy Sassy looks. Kiki missed out like WOAH.

* Luke Priddis redeeming himself by telling Kiki her Dragons necklace was ‘beautiful’ during their interview. Well spotted L.Pridd.

* Seeing Isaac Luke exiting the Milking Barn. Apparently he is really into dairy.

Make sure you comment and tell us what you think x

Hello Errol friends. I would like to introduce you to Yasmin. She enjoys dark beer (see above), is my roomie, and most importantly…is footy’s newest fan.

One of my hobbies is pressuring/harassing/manipulating people into liking things I’m into. It just makes life easier for me, you know? Sassy and I did this to Lozzy in 2008, and this time around it was Yasmin’s turn. When we moved in together 6 months ago I informed her she was lucky it was the off season, so she didn’t have to sit through endless hours of footy on the TV. She was glad.

Flash forward to current day and I have on my hands an obsessed little Bunnies fan who is a ferocious and committed competitor in both footy tipping AND fantasy league competitions. I happily take most of the credit for this amazing turnaround, but I have to give props to footy for being so innately awesome and hilarious. Really all I was doing for Yasmin was pointing out the spectacularly amusing points and letting it go from there. Let’s hear from Yassy herself, shall we?

I’ve never been a big Footy fan, I mean sure, of course I celebrated the Knights Grand Final wins in 97 & 2001 but I really had no choice, I didn’t want to be cut. Have you ever been to Newie? It’s like Beyond Thunderdome there.

So after moving in with Kiki in Maroubra last year, I decided it was time to take the plunge & pick a team, after all I think that was part of the problem, I mean the Knights really aren’t all that lovable.

Once I got to Maroubra I had an epiphany & settled on the Bunnies, after all I was now living in major Bunnies territory, I once had a pet bunny (Kurt Cobain RIP). I’m a winter so I look good in red & green, then of course there was the Rusty factor. It was fate, even as I complained last year there weren’t enough attractive players in the team, Rusty got Sam Burgess all the way from England just for me.

I never do anything by halves, can tend to focus on something/someone until it becomes an obsession & being a footy fan has proved to be no exception. I will even admit to looking at the Rabbitohs website daily & watching Rusty’s Christmas message whenever I feel sad (do yourself a favour and go watch it, you won’t regret it and will find yourself quoting it).

So now I am now fully addicted to Fantasy League & am a tough supercoach. My need to win outweighs my loyalty (my future husband included, shhh don’t tell him) & if they don’t perform to Coach Yasbean’s expectations, then off with their heads.

Don’t mess with the supercoaches.

But hold on a minute, I am also a multi-tasker. Not only am I a Supercoach, I also like to coach the Bunnies in real life. So next week when the Bunnies finally win, you can thank me & the ‘Ball Control, Bunnies!’ sign I erected on our front lawn that the team had to pass on the way to recovery after the game against the Titans.

As she says, she really doesn’t do anything by halves. I woke up on a Sunday a few weeks ago to be accosted in our living room with her yelling “KIKI. THANK GOD YOU’RE AWAKE. I’VE MADE A FANTASY TEAM AND U NEED TO TELL ME HOW GOOD IT IS.”

She later admitted that not only did she make a fantasy team, but after she had used up all the players she knew previously (the big names) she then visited every team’s website to find the best looking player that cost the least on the salary cap. That is dedication people.

By far the best thing about introducing someone to footy, is seeing the game through new eyes. Yasmin has provided me with some epic lolz so far. I would like to share these quotes with you.

“Oooh! This is so fun! Everyone at the footy is so FRIENDLY!” – at the Charity Shield after a man asked me to hold his hot dog while he bought a beer

“Who is the guy in the….the…the head hat?” – asked while pointing at Preston Campbell at the All Stars game

“Oooh! I want that black guy in my fantasy team!” – excitedly yelled while watching Rhys Wesser return the ball

“Is it wrong that I find Robbie Farah attractive?” – while watching a Tigers game

“I have Jarrod Yeeha in my fantasy team.” – Yasmin on Jharal Yow-Yeh

“FUCKING BUNNIES. Less tweeting about banana bread, more training Burgess!” – after suffering her first loss as a Rabbitohs fan

“Omigod. The Mozzies were on the footy show and B.Moz was wearing a BACKPACK and he looks like a giant 5 year old. I taped it for you. If you get in the shower and get ready on time, I’ll let you watch it.” – her greeting as soon as I woke up yesterday

“They were warming up in front of me and I was looking at their leg muscles and I thought…THIS IS A GREAT GAME THIS IS” – at Leichardt Oval, after watching the Balmain Tigers warm up

” How does Dave Taylor manage to play this game? There are so many bloody rules!” – after me attempting to explain how the in goal/restart rules work

To say I am proud of how she’s embraced footy fandom is an understatement. Not only has she enthusiastically embraced everything NRL, but she is also loving the joy that is the NSW Cup. The fact she finds Tigers captain Lee Bennett super spunky may have something to do with it. I think the 4 dollar beers help too. She is also planning a range of footy coloured girls pyjamas (she’s a talented designer, for reals) for us to sell on Errol. AND she even made me awesome Dragons themed nail art.

Keep an eye out for Yasmin’s weekly appearance in Fantasy League Fridays. I can safely say she is extremely committed to being a fantasy coach, as she talks about it at home at least 3.5 times a day.

One last thing.  The NRL are constantly trying to improve the game for women, and now they have a spiffy little survey for us to fill out to help them achieve their goals. We have all filled it out, so you should too. You can find it here. Go now, it finishes on March 30th. THANKS GUYZ LOVE YA.

OH HAY BITCHES!

It’s no secret that Errol is a gay-friendly zone. If there were a blog-equivalent of PFLAG, then we’d be in it. If we weren’t technologically retarded we would put a happy little rainbow flag on the site to show you.

So keep your Mardi-hate away from the comments section, please. It’s one night! If you care not for parades and rainbows and glitter and topless ladies on bikes, you can stay home and work on your cross-stitch. If you need a break, maybe google all the great things the gays have given you, like Elton John songs, Olympic gold medals, and the Pauline Hanson Mardi Gras float where her huge creepy head was chasnig ‘ethnic’ fish n chips down Oxford St. Remember that? Shit was incredible. Incredible, and eerily lifelike.

Sadly this year – because we’re heading to Homebush for the Charity Shield Bunnies vs Dragons game tomorrow – we can’t watch the parade or put on fake eyelashes and join in the insanity afterwards. Tragedy. Now we’ll never find out what ridiculous shenanigans we would’ve pulled off during the course of the night. Would Kiki have ended up with a torn tulle fairy skirt and chewing gum in her hair again? Would I wear something ridiculously inappropriate again like a skintight leather skirt and be unable to sit or stand without a burly gay lifting me? Would we meet a Karl Lagerfeld drag king again and start a fight by pulling his ponytail? (Sorry about that, btw). WOULD ANYONE PASH A GAY MAN? So many unanswered questions.

We probably would’ve headed for Charlotte Dawson’s Arena party, so maybe she can fill us in later. Get onto it pls Daws.

So instead, we have to celebrate Mardi Gras Eve. I plan to spend it at home doing what everyone should be doing pre-Mardi Gras: fake tanning. You know it’s true.

That way I’ll also look golden brown when I try and defuse fights between Dragons fan Kiki and our friend Yassy (new and devoted Bunnies fan).

What I like to think Wendell will be wearing on the night.

Personally, I’m kind of undecided. On one hand, I have a weird love for St George. Partly, that’s because I find their halves combination of Tiny Dancer and Hornbag completely adorable, and would kinda love to ask them over for afternoon tea to explain in depth that I totally believe in their skills even though they occasionally have flat games where they seem to shut down run out of attacking options.

Also partly because I think Uncle Wayne might be some kind of superhuman. He is the only person so far in my life to render me speechless. Even after two champagnes I couldn’t talk to him. I was muted by Benny. And I am never mute. I’m also overly invested in Jason ‘Flossy’ Nightingale and his success: a) because he looks like a labrador when he plays, and b) because following in Wendell Sailor’s footsteps is tough.

On the other hand, I have a massive platonic crush on Peter Holmes a Court. He’s seriously up there with Lee Furlong now on my list of non-sexual crushes. He’s just so clever! And so nice! And so pretty! On the Goldy – because I am a tool who does embarassing things – I announced to a group of rugby league bigwigs that “Peter Holmes a Court is a DREAMBOAT”. God I’m a winner. Which of course means if I cheer against the Bunnies it will have to be in secret in case the Dreamboat finds out.

And as a warm up to footy tipping for this year (have you joined our comp yet? GO DO IT NOW) I’ll even tip the game for ya – Dragons will win it but not by much. Matt Cooper will remain ridiculously hot, Beau Champion will play almost as well as he did at All-Stars, and Tiny Dancer will dance again (hopefully in a Mardi Gras-themed headgear).

Happy Mardi Gras babies!

The important news is that Errol HQ will be pretty empty for the next week or so. You see, Intern John John’s busy with pre-season training up in FNQ, work experience boy Lachie is spending the weekend out in Penrith at the Panther’s members day …. And us? We have a busy week ahead of BEING AWESOME.

Tomorrow Kiki and I are hitting up the Return to South Sydney game at Redfern Oval, and entertaining some lucky peeps at a pre-game party. Then we’re flying up to the Gold Coast to bring you live bloggy-updates about all the All-Stars vs Indigenous preparations.  Lozzy’s volunteered to mind the nest/water the plants/make sure no neighbourhood hooligans break in and steal our booze, then she’s coming up on Friday so the whole Errol crew can watch the game together.

Okay, so maybe not so much “BEING awesome” as “BEING three losers … around awesome people”. Potato, Potahto.

And if 2009 was the year of rugby league scandal (aren’t they all?) …. Then 2010 marks the Return to League. Every Lote, Timana and his dog is coming back to the loving arms of rugby league.

We knew you’d come back, babies!

Timana Tahu has come from the dark side of the force, aka rugby union, to play with the Eels. Lote’s come from the Telegraph’s back page to sign with the Tigers … even Greg Bird has come back from his busy schedule of court appearances to sign with the Titans.

It’s just like that Peter Allen song: all of the shiiiiiiips come back to the shoooorrrrre. He wrote that about rugby league, right? Yep I thought so. He totally did.

Just quietly, he would also totally approve of Greg Bird’s choice of team: the Titans have by far the prettiest uniforms in the league. I know this because my fierce gay friend Rick tells me so. Also, because Prince Scotty the Caramel plays for the Titans, and whichever uniform he wears is by default the prettiest.

More importantly, how many potential halves do the Titans have now? Mat? Scott? Preston? Greg? Is Carty running a full two-string team now, like NFL? Shit is ridiculous. And by ‘ridiculous’, clearly I mean ‘I’m shitty they don’t play for my team’.

I also, apparently, have the mind of a small child. Because anytime anyone mentions Lote’s new job, they seem to use the phrase ‘Lote the tiger’, which causes my brain to produce this image of Tony the Tiger:

LOTE THE TIGER I LOVE YOUR WORK! AND YOUR TASTY SUGARY CEREAL!

I like to think Lote picked the Tiges purely for this reason. Mark my words within six months he’ll be wearing a jaunty red neckerchief with his Tigers uniform and spruiking Frosties breakfast cereal in the ad breaks of the Channel 7 evening news. Mark. My. Words.

Kiki thinks the powers that be at the Tigers needed to hire Lote to keep up their dreadlock quote. After losing Daine Laurie to the Panthers they were in serious deficit.

It’s also possible he just wanted to be close to Blake Ayshford. After all, the man has eyes.

And while other teams have been busy bringing ex-league players back to the fold, my boys the Roosters have been busy signing up … Steggles.

That’s right kids, Steggles chickens are the new major sponsors of the Sydney Roosters, and it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever heard. If there’s one thing Errol loves, it’s Really Literal Thinking.

Remember that time Kiki posted about going to Orange AND USED A PICTURE OF AN ORANGE?

Yep, we are all over this chicken-to-chicken connection. Sure, as Brett Oaten kindly pointed out, it might not be the best fit for a team of Roosters to be sponsored by a company whose primary business is the wholesale slaughter of chickens.

The chicken formerly known as Brent Grose.

And as twitterer and generally hilarious human Jen Bennett suggested:

… now we know what they do with underperforming players. Wait, has anyone seen Fittler recently?

LIES! They told me they sent Freddy to a farm!

I like to think Daniel Conn was being serious when he told facebook now they get paid in chicken. Mmmmm, chicken. What footy player doesn’t love food, hmmmm? More importantly, what self-respecting footy player doesn’t love chicken?

We know for sure that Stanley Waqa does, because he told us so the first time we ever met him, back when he was playing for the Newtown Jets. I believe his exact words were – as he looked up from eating a chicken schnitzel: “… I love chicken”.

I rest my case.

All they need now is to convince the Steggles sister brand – Bartter Eggs – to sponsor the Roosters Under 20s side. It’s called Brand Synergy. Get onto it, Nick Politis.

[Personally I think the Chooks should print all position numbers on jerseys this year as Nugget 1, Nugget 2 etc etc - lozzy]

But back to the Return to South Sydney match tomorrow: the Bunnies will be playing the Manly Sea Eagles, and there’s one man we’re especially excited to see.

Michael Robertson … come on down!

The reason? We really, really need to check out his backside.

I’m serious. According to the Cumberland Courier, back in the day when Robbo was signed to the Sea Eagles, he was a legs-and-arse charity case. The generally accepted wisdom was that a footy player needed strong legs and a lot of junk in the trunk (this certainly explains Wendell’s success), but Robbo:

“… failed miserably on the sight test. His legs wouldn’t have been out of place on an anorexic chicken while his backside was non-existent.”

Poor Robbo, with his chicken legs and sad, unpadded pelvis.

And poor Robbo for having it revealed in the newspaper. Why does the media constantly print and broadcast embarrassing things about Robbo and his crotchal region? Remember the wang dance?

But rest assured, because we are committed journalists and confirmed perves, we will use our time tomorrow at Redfern Oval wisely, and make sure that we suss out the current state of Robbo’s union, so to speak.

Till next time, make sure you check our twitter account for all the vital Errol hapz. See you on the Goldy!

Talk about some slack blogging, kittens. How long has it been since we wrote anything? More importantly, how long has it been since there was football on? We are not coping well with the lack of footy in our lives.

The only thing that’s keeping me from weeping uncontrollably about the whole thing is that I am currently too exhausted/dehydrated/generally beat down by the festive season to muster up tears. I’m dessicated Sassy right now. With the amount of Christmas parties with open bars and ‘OMG WE NEED TO CATCH UP BEFORE CHRISTMAS’ pub-trips and beers while we’re watching Danny Green fight and Fleetwood Mac concerts I seriously do not have that much moisture in me.

I also haven’t cleaned my house, or managed to face the grocery store in about two weeks, so I am basically living on things in tins I find in the pantry, and amongst several gigantic piles of clothes that look a lot like some kind of hurricane relief drive. HEEEELP! See what happens when there is no footy? I lose my damn mind and need to be rescued by either my mother or the Red Cross.

But do you know what made me feel better? Someone helpfully pointed out this week that Lowes have their new season ad images up on their website. We all know what that means …. FOOTY PLAYERS IN NORMAL PEOPLE CLOTHES. It’s my favourite thing! It’s like when you see Venus Williams in an evening dress. It’s strange and unusual and special like an eclipse, or a unicorn.

And my favourite new picture of all is of Scotty Prince being a dapper and amazing business man:

Scotty auditions for the Wall Street sequel.

Considering that I am currently living in my own festive season filth and have about eight baskets full of dirty laundry, I am considering taking his advice and heading down to just buy myself a whole new wardrobe. I think we all know that living out of my remaining clean clothes just isn’t working. Yesterday I had to dress as some kind of 1970s housewife because all I had left that was vaguely wearable was a selection of rainbow-coloured sundresses.

And while I’ve been living in a state of permanent hot chip and free beer hangover, the NRL boys have also been busy. In Todd Carney and Jason Ryles’ cases, busy freaking me out. Sure I knew they were coming to my team the Chooks, but actually seeing them in Roosters merchandise is unnerving like woah. I felt equally weird the first time I saw Anthony Tupou as a shark. IT’S WEIRD AND WRONG AND I DON’T LIKE IT, ONE BIT.

I’m not even kidding you when I say I find this picture of Jason Ryles:

Jason and Stuart use their pocket flashlight to search for their missing dignity.

MORE normal than this:

He actually makes a kinda reliable looking security guard, don’t you think? And Todd Carney, for his part, makes a really really good pattycake partner. Mitchell Pearce told me so.

Up in Queensland, whenever they manage to find time out from their hectic schedule of electoral scandal and debating whether daylight savings fades curtains, the Broncos have been busy busting their guts to get super-fit for the 2010 NRL season.

They do this by staging some kind of …. Broncos Olympics? That’s totally Denan Kemp and Peter Wallace practising long jump, right? Whatever. All I know is that I really love Peter Wallace’s zinc nose. It’s very Michael Hussey. It’s also an excellent example to young rangas everywhere … SUN SAFETY IS COOL, KIDS!

Some of the boys struggle with the concept of ‘hurdles’

I also like to think that Israel Folau has really settled in with the Brisbane team. Like maybe in the early days he had a few teething problems. He’s sort of a baby still as footy players go, maybe he played up a little, ran off at training when he saw something shiny or a dog passing by, had trouble concentrating. But since they put him on a lead, little Izzy has really stepped back into line.

If you can keep him in the one place long enough, Izzy’s quite the good listener.

.. he just needs a hand-holding partner when the team walks anywhere or crosses roads. His road safety still needs some work.

And in a lil round up of the rest of the NRL teams, the Tigers boys are being cheeseballs over on Tigers TV (I don’t know that Steve Folkes would approve of this break from training, just quietly):

Justin Poore now has HAIR! Must be because he’s at Parramatta now, far far away from Ben Hornby and his Hornbag Clippers of Doom:

And, possibly inspired by Todd Carney, John Sutton spent Rabbitohs training week in Coffs Harbour playing pattycake with dolphins:

Pic. Frank Wedward

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go eat a tin of corn kernels. Till next time, darlings.

All other pics via the awesome BS and his blog, and Getty Images.

Ok first of all: tell me you watched Monday night football. Right? If you didn’t, it means you missed two of the greatest television moments so far in 2009.

1) being the boys cracking my shit up presenting this week’s Monday Night Retro, and;
2) being Joel Monaghan cracking the shits when Melbourne scored, lying on his tummy on the grass and banging his feet on the ground like an angry kid in a supermarket. The Storm make me feel exactly the same way, Monas.

I’m not gonna talk about that game though, because Canberra are kind of my second team and it’s just too depressing. Let’s talk Tigers instead.

So if you’re following us on twitter (you should be) you’ll know I went to the Tigers vs Rabbitohs game on Sunday at the SCG. God knows you wouldn’t have found out about it on Facebook, because those fascist bastards shut us down. This fills me with rage because they said we weren’t ‘an individual’ when quite clearly we are a collection of individuals and if those couples who have joint ‘MARRIAGE IS ALL ABOUT SHARING’ Facebooks get to stay then so should we.  FIGHT THE POWER!

Until they can prove to me there is an actual individual named JonAndMelinda Clarke with 8 albums of wedding pictures then I will continue to be pissed about this.

What was my point? Oh yes, sunday afternoon footy. God the SCG is glorious on a Sunday afternoon. Even in the shitty seats on the east side with the advertising banners in front of you and the pretty Sydney sun in your eyes. STILL LOVELY. I do enjoy a good example of historical architecture.

We could almost telepathically hear the voice of Phil Gould sitting in the Channel 9 commentary room stroking some kind of cat (and/or Ray Warren) and purring I lovvvvvve Sunday afternoon football, don’t you Rabbits?

Instead of our fave fake married couple Gus and Rabs, though, Kiki and I and our Errol BFF Suchy got the commentary of some poor man’s Errols behind us. By which I mean they call David Kidwell ‘Kiddy’, and Fetuli Talanoa ‘Tally’. Let’s be honest … as nicknames go, they’re no Tiny Dancer or Hot Bitch, are they, boys?

Even though we were squished on one side looking into the sun, the SCG was amaaaazing. So so beautiful, and such a fantastic enthusiastic crowd. The little kids in footy jerseys were cute enough to touch even my cold, black heart. It is also one of the top ten best things in life when little kids yell out criticism at the field. Like, ‘way to drop the ball, dickhead!’ and ‘that pass was FORWARD!’

Their snarkiness is to me like babies’ laugher is to normal people.

In other news, I have realised that when you’re not a fan of either team, a messy game is an entertaining game. It’s not like when I watch the Roosters and almost have a stroke every time they have no-no times.

I was seriously so relaxed, just chillin in my seat, looking for my Lucas Paw Paw ointment that I totally brushed the Rabbitohs mascot. Apparently he was standing there for aaaages waiting for me to shake his hand or hug him so he could keep going and I just studiously ignored him. Sorry bunny! Please don’t badmouth me to Rusty! 

You can bet I wouldn’t have missed it if the Tigers mascot came by, because from what I can tell the actual Tiger has retired and just been replaced by the Ali Baba Kebab man. I’m assuming he gives out kebabs, in which case I think this is a brilliant development. Mmmm …. food.

Normal jersey …

… Robbie Farah spray-on jersey. How does he lift his arms?

After last week’s Country vs City I thought Robbie Farah was all over the blue number 9 jersey for State of Origin. He played the shit out of Wade Park. And he didn’t change my mind on Sunday. He distracted me slightly with his super super tight sprayed on Heritage jersey (do they have to cut him out of it, like a swimmer?) and his new beard (it looks hot, keep it up Robbie) … but I’m still team Robbie for Origin.

Especially after he ran smack-bang into lil Issac Luke in the second half and scared the hell out of me. I swear I heard the collision. I thought we were in for another Anthony Quinn convulsions incident and I was all set to cover my eyes like a Delicate Lady. I mean … what? I am a Delicate Lady! Ask anyone!

*cough*

But Robbie soldiered on, and apparently puked like crazy as soon as he got off the field. Which is why I can’t be disappointed he missed the field goal when Souths evened it up at 22 all. He was concussed, people. That’s the kinda spirit that you need for State of Origin. The spirit to take a violent knock to the brain, then continue playing a game in which it’s likely your already fragile brain will be knocked once again.

It’s actually a bit weird to see a player get hit in the head and have it not be Mick Crocker. Yes, Mick is back. And in case you didn’t realise, he decided to try and start some tensionz on the field within the first five minutes … just to get your attention. Either that, or someone mocked his spray-on hair.

Meanwhile even I wasn’t expecting Nathan Merritt to pop out of nowhere and kick a field goal with one second to go. And no, I’m not exaggerating … literally one second. NATHAN MERRITT. Really? In the end we had to take Tigers fan Suchy out on the field for some post-game frolicking on the SCG to ease his pain at his boys losing by 1 point. ONE POINT. 

It’s times like these (when you aren’t a fan of the losing team) that rugby league is amaaaaaazing.

teeny tiny tiger!

Getting to run onto the field is heartwarming for at least five reasons (plus possibly a few more that I don’t remember cause I was a bit tipsy). It involves seeing boys try to create a kicking tee from a white loafer, a plastic schooner glass, and a mate’s hand. It involves adults momentarily losing control and tacking little kids for footballs. Also, people kicking balls into other people’s heads. Everyone loves a falcon!

There’s also the boyfriend running away from his girlfriend with a footy in his hand; when she falls over on the grass, he looks back … then just keeps running. That boy has a field goal to kick, after all.

Plus the awesome sight of a policeman pretending to arrest someone just so his friends could take photos. This is why I love Australia.

The only vague downer was the man kicking a Sherrin around on the ground … and when we booed him for bringing his dirty AFL ball onto the grass he answered ‘um, it’s the SCG’.

So … what? If the name of the ground matters, then you should be playing cricket, DICKHEAD. I hope he got hit in the brain with that Sherrin.

And on that cheerful note, special thanks to the Rabbitohs supporter who got taken out of the SCG by police. He was so cheery! Even the potentially incarcerated had a great day! That’s the magic of Heritage Round.

Thanks to the fierce Cronkster and Kiki’s swish new iPhone for the pics.

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.

I know, I know, this is a bit unexpected. Usually I never write about the Storm or the Rabbitohs very often. 

This is because as an avowed Roosters fan, the Rooster Code tells me I should mock and ignore Souths as often as possible.  And as a New South Welshlady and, you know, someone with a soul, the universe tells me to hate the Storm.

But since I am a massive trashbag and slept through almost every other game this weekend, this is what you get bitches.

We open with Andy Raymond doing his usual wander-round-the-field talking to camera schtick.  I seriously can’t believe he still does it, actually.  Especially since the last time I saw him do it he was coming down the tunnel at Brookvale Oval and accidentally walked face-first into the back of a giant piece of bunting.  JUST STAND STILL ANDY. 

The Bunnies run on and are still wearing black shorts.  The gays will not be pleased.  Melbourne are running onto the field tonight through a huge purple FAREWELL BOOFA sign.  Fireworks explode everywhere, Geyer kinda headbutts his way through the crepe paper and we’re in business.

If you’re wondering, I am firmly Team Russell Crowe today. 

After we gave our tips on Nova on Friday arvo I was devastated to see that my prediction of a miracle win for Parramatta didn’t come true.  I Really Hate Being Wrong.  But tonight I would be more than happy if you little Bunnies could pull off a win and prove me wrong.  GO TEAM RUSTY!

And for all the Storm fans who read this and get upset when I say disapproving things or make fun of neckless Billy Slater and Mick Crocker’s hair, I will try and explain. 

Every team in the NRL has a soul, you know?  A group mojo.  A general team vibe.   Well, every team except Melbourne, that is.  They give me no vibes at all. They are just so … functional.  Everything they do just Works.  It’s like they are an unstoppable all-powerful heartless fighting force.  Every time someone refers to their home ground as ‘the graveyard’, I hear ‘THE DEATH STAR’.

It’s all too slick and reliable.  Like a perfectly-trained dog. 

Even tonight when they ran on field, their fireworks exploded at the perfect time in perfect unison. 

(As opposed to on Friday night when I watched my Roosters at the SFS.  Our fireworks exploded in perfect unsion … as the DRAGONS ran on-field, leaving the Chooks to blindly grope their way on field through an all-encompassing fog.  GOOD WORK GUYS.)

Look, I just kinda hate them, ok?   I even hate how their stupid name is a singular noun instead of a plural.  How can a group of men equate to ONE STORM?  HMMMM? 

Anyway. From now on I shall just refer to them as the Globo Gym dodgeball team and Craig Bellamy as White Goodman.  I know I already mentioned the Death Star, but I enjoy mixing metaphors, so SHOOSH.  THEY ARE GLOBO GYM DODGEBALLERS AND STORMTROOPERS.  ALL AT ONCE, K?

That’s totally what Bellamy’s office looks like, isn’t it?  I thought so.

In a clash of soap opera names, Beau Champion and Dallas Johnson hit up in a tackle and Champion hits the turf.  You may have won this round, Dallas, but you haven’t won the war!  I will still get my hands on Denver-Carrington Oil, you rogue, just you wait.

In other news, Dallas Johnson appears to have lost his razor and is looking very Gary-from-team-America.  I think bearded isn’t really a good look for you, honey.  Stick to the Dynasty clean-shave.

Unstoppable Israel Folau fends off two Bunnies with an amazing break and whips up a Melbourne penalty.  Greg Inglis manages a freakish Inglis offload while being tackled and sends Geyer in for a try on the left hand side.  Ooh, this will not be pretty.  The Average Joes are in for a beating.

I gasp when Billy Slater is sent off for a professional foul by slowing down the play the ball near the try line.  Amazing!  Billy Slater in the sin bin!  All of a sudden I like this game a lot more.  Bring down the Death Star, boys!  You can do it! 

The referees call a kick hitting Chris Sandow ‘playing at the ball’ and give Melbourne another set of tackles.  I am OUTRAGED.  The commentary team and I are OUTRAGED.  It turns into a Melbourne try via Anthony Quinn and I am so outraged I open a beer. 10 points to nil and thanks for ruining my low-carb diet Quinny.  GOD.

pic: Getty Images

Billy Slater comes back from the clear plastic sin bin tube and someone calls Chris Sandow a terrier as he makes a tackle. I feel he looks more like Sonic the Hedgehog.

Cameron Smith slides through for an easy try and this is what troubles me about you Cam. According to www.leaguehq.com this is “celebrating”:

pic: Penny Stephens

DON’T LOOK SO HAPPY CAMERON. IT’S TACKY.

Matthew Perry Jason Taylor looks about as joyful as Cam Smith right now.

The referee makes a ridiculous call about Cooper Cronk not playing at the ball when it looked identical to Sandow’s penalty. Apparently life just isn’t fair on the Death Star. But a glimpse of Average Joe salvation comes over the horizon when fiesty little Sandow and his Bee Boots kicks along the left side. It bounces as if pre-ordained to mini-hot bitch Luke Capewell, who sends the ball from the side of his boot in-field for Merritt to ground.

Capewell, you adorable cheeky bastard! Bitch is multi-talented and he has dimples. Swoon!

One more Globo Gym try sends us into halftime at 20-4.

Billy Slater opens the second half score with a 100m try and … hey don’t the Rabbitohs love a yellow shoe?  These Melbourne tries are getting so common it’s like I don’t even notice anymore.  (No, Billy doesn’t smile, if you’re wondering).

Another try to Slater thanks to prodigy Folau, and one to Brett Anderson who, despite scoring an awesome try, kinda looks like he’s crying.  I am seriously worried about these boys and their emotional health.  Another to Jeremy Smith and we’re at 42-4.  Game over, babies.

The Melbourne Storm look … well I suppose they look relatively happy.  They’re not really smiling but they never smile.  Do they?  I guess they are hugging and whatnot.  Mick Crocker is asked about Craig Bellamy and says “it’s just nice to see him … not cranky”. 

Oh my god those poor kittens. Is that why you’re so efficient and restrained boys?  Does mean daddy Craig not care for happiness? HAS WHITE GOODMAN OUTLAWED SMILING?  That bastard!

I sort of just want to give them all a hug right now.  Except maybe Anthony Quinn.  He’s in the book of feuds for damaging Errol Patron Saint Dave Williams last time Melbourne played Manly.  DON’T MESS WITH ERROL, BITCHES.

And, as predicted, this means Globo Gym have also won the minor premiership.  Let that be a lesson to us all: you don’t mess with the Death Star.

[Feel free to leave all your praise for Kiki's AMAZING photoshop of Bellamy as White Goodman in the comments.  AMAZING.]

And look out for a Roosters vs Dragons recap this week too.