7 

footy observations: a salute to glamour

May 31st, 2011

Some people like the fancy things in life. Bollinger. Cigars. Caviar.

Stuff like Chopard watches, sky-beds and … rugby league. Ah, rugby league. The sport of kings! (The bloodthirsty Medieval kind, anyway). And luckily for all of y’all – we know you must be those kind of people considering you’re reading Errol, right? – today’s post is a wrap-up of one of the most glamorous weeks in league history. You can go ahead and read it on your customised iPad 2s on your yacht. Settle into your Eames chair and let’s get started.

We started it off with a trip to the Triple J studios to talk to the Doctor about State of Origin (national broadcaster! glamour!) and you’ll be extra proud to know that we arrived at the office during the middle of a team meeting taking place in the reception area. We hope all the loyal employees at JJJ enjoyed me walking through the door, mid-conversation, saying “YEAH I HAVE A COCK … I TUCK IT BACK WHEN I’M WEARING A TIGHT SKIRT”.

In context, it totally made sense … sort of.

And if you missed it, lucky you can listen to it online: BEHOLD THE MAGIC OF TECHNOLOGY.

Just head to six minutes in and go nuts. The Doctor’s also pretty lolz if you feel like following him on the Twitter.

But while we were busy basking in the glory of radio stardom (guest appearance! glamour!) up in Queensland things were a little more … unpleasant. The Gold Coast Titans were subjected to eight disallowed tries on Friday night. Eight! It’s a conspiracy!

Do the refs hate them because they’re beautiful?

We actually have confirmation via one of our favourite humans – George Rose – that the Titans are known as the “beautiful people”. According to Tommy Learoyd-Lahrs, soon as you hit the goldy you becaome at least 100% more attractive.


Pic. Getty Images

Would you argue with that? We wouldn’t.

The downside of course, is that you’re the coach of the woeful 2011 Titans, you have to find ways of coping with the endless run of disappointing losses and grim wins. Apparently coach Carty has chosen to cope by eating his feelings.


The beleaguered coach is rarely sighted outside his natural habitat of the coach’s ‘box’ ….


… and as a prey animal, may appear startled if he senses he is being watched. Proceed carefully.


The key sign of a coach under pressure is the loss of fine motor-skills and subsequent sausage roll disasters.

These are dark times indeed for Errol’s reigning sexiest coach in league. As for the reigning Hot Bitch Award for Hottest Bitch in League (aka Hot Bitch Cooper), the curse against the hot people of the world continues. What’s doing? Coops has a busted cheekbone from the weekend’s game:

Pic. via @RealBigdell

All this is doing is confirming our conclusions from the Great Fantasy League experiment of 2009. Hot people are FRAGILE. It’s just science.

As for south of Sydney, the Raiders haven’t named Terry Campese to play this week, which breaks our hearts a little. We love his long-range kicks and his comical Cheshire Cat grin. On the bright side, it leaves him free to continue bringing his special brand of off-field civvies glamour to our nation’s capital:


Pic via
Canberra Raiders

Meanwhile in Sydney’s glorious West, the Parra Eels are bringing the glamour back to coach travel:

via Tim Mannah

Naw, he’s like a sleeping angel!

And if the boys from the lonely island have taught us anything through the magic of song, it’s that nothing is more glamorous than a boat.

Exhibit A:

Just like how Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas taught us that G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S involves flying first class, up in the sky.

This explains why the Queensland Origin team made their own salute to glamour in the form of a special trip in Careflight’s rescue boats and lifty things. See, they’re just like the gondola chairlifts at a ski resort! Except, you know, bright yellow and made of plastic. And in a pool.

Billy heard the lyrics “flossy, flossy” and did his best Flossy Nightingale expression.



Ben Hannant still goes to Taco Bell, Drives through, raw yeah

JT wants to know just who the hell thinks he’s not still real. WHO? HE’S STILL JT FROM THE BLOCK.

Special thanks to the amazing Fall of Reach for bringing us the magic of Carty and the Sausage Roll incident! xx

9 

hot man news : the raiders edition

March 24th, 2010

YOU READ IT RIGHT BITCHES. THE HOT MAN NEWS IS BACK. Why now, you ask? Well it’s occured to me that this blog has become somewhat G-rated of late and I don’t like it.  To quote Gough Whitlam - “It’s Time”. It’s time for for the innate perve in us all to make it’s grand return.

But before we get to that, let’s briefly take a moment to appreciate the genius above. It’s literal, juvenile and crappily constructed. It’s Oh Errol.

(Note – I googled ‘man on fire’ and got a varied selection of things. Including a disturbing amount of photos of self immolation including one entitled “Romanian Gypsy on fire”.  Well that’s not very cheery now, is it?)

Anyway! On with the hot! So obviously the Dragons are my beloved and I adore them like my own children (especially B.Moz, I actually think I Love Him Like A Son). But I do kinda-sorta-adore another team. And that team is…….THE RAIDERS. Do you feel special Green Machine?

Oh I’ll give you the hottest ride in town.

I just like watching them play. I have a soft spot for them. And if I was a guy, I would also have a hard spot. GET IT. COZ OF BONERS. Now despite his infamous hair iss-u-eewwes, we are totally T.Camps mad here at Errol HQ. We just think he’s lovely. He is very old school handsome. Very traditionally masculine and all that. We also like how he feels the need to check that his junk is still attached while at training.

Hell YES Tez, work it out bitch. If there’s anything sexier than a man grabbing his dick while slathered in zinc and wearing a bucket hat, I am yet to see it. Am I being sarcastic? I don’t even know any more.

Now let’s talk about Joel Thompson. I will admit I had absolutely no idea who this bloke was until I spied him looking all sweaty and spunky at the first Indigenous All Stars training we went to. Errrr… I mean, I was admiring his athletic ability….and stuff. Anyway, he’s got cute monotremey type hair and a certain swagger about him.  And Sassy agrees he’s the sex in a kind of “I may or may not steal your car after our dates over” kind of way.

After some more intensive research on my part (I am a committed journalist if nothing else), I have discovered why we felt an immediate kinship with him. It’s because, how do I put this gently….he is kind of retarded. And we say this with much love, because anyone who has a) read Errol or b) been around us for more than 30 seconds soon realises we are challenged in many many ways. If we were footy players, we would totally end up doing the following -

Suddenly realising our nip nips are a bit sore after a busy day of training.

Further discovering that we may in fact have a serious nipple injury on our hands. And end up being snapped looking super bloated in the process.

Being obviously mortified after having a trainer tape up said nipple injury in front of our teammates.

Now despite both looking ethnically mysterious, Sassy and I are actually both from Irish peasant backgrounds so needless to say we have had more than a few suncare issues over the years.

Once such incident occured whilst on holiday in Fiji. We were so hungover on the second last day we spent 9 hours in the water to keep cool so we didn’t vom all over the pretty white sand. Unfortunately the fact that water is transparent and sunlight can get to you while you’re floating about didn’t occur to us. Until we woke up the next morning and literally couldn’t walk straight because we were so sunburnt. Subsequently we had to fly home braless and wearing nothing but sarongs as regular clothes hurt too much. Apologies to Air Pacific and Australian Customs.

This is why, once again, we totally feel you Joel.

” Slippity, sloppity…SLAP! Nothing will penetrate this zinc forcefield of mine!”

“……………..shit.”

Oh, Joel. Drop by the office one day, will ya? You will be with your own kind.

Now onto Josh Dugan. In a completely unexpected turn of events:  Dimples Dugan is hot now. Not cute or adorable or nawww ain’t he sweet like he used to be. Nope. He’s removed the headgear and has morphed into one of Errol’s fave things. A HOT BOGAN. The plethora of tattoos, nasal vowels when speaking, the earrings, the semi- douchey- haircut-that-somehow-works-for him = hot bogan.

Now this is not an insult by any means. Because you know who else is a Hot Bogan? HOT BITCH COOPER. That’s right HB, you have an heir to the throne. Behold readers, I present to you, Junior Hot Bitch.

La la laaaa….

One of these things is not like the others,

One of these things just doesn’t belong,

Can you tell which thing is not like the others

By the time I finish my song? …………la la laaaaaaaa!

And with that, I’m out. Stay tuned cupcakes because there’s plenty more Raiders hot to come. I haven’t even got to Tom ‘is that a brother or what’ Learoyd-Lahrs.

Pics from The Canberra Times and FMF Forums. Thanks boys, we love ya!

13 

women in league: magenta adventures

June 18th, 2009

 l

 

After the success of the Harvey Norman Women in League round, and before the next Origin match, the lovely folks at the NRL and One Community threw the last Women in League dinner for 2009. And, somehow, the Country Rugby League were kind enough to ask us along as their guests. I know, right? How nice are they? It makes no sense. Maybe they saw us in some of our Mary Kate Olsen-ish hobo outfits and thought we were probably in need of some free food and drink, and maybe a roof over our heads. 

The event was up at Magenta Shores, where the Blues boys are staying for their Origin camp. If nothing else this should end those annoying ‘NSW are pampered princesses’ comments cause … well I’m pretty sure pampered princesses don’t stay in resorts that smell like swamp. THERE. WE SAID IT. The resort is lovely, but still, it’s unnerving.

We want to say a big HI BOYS to the high priests of rugby league, David Gallop and Geoff Carr. Thankyou so much for the chats and the encouragement, let’s be best friends, call us every day.

First of all we have a huge complaint: why did no one mention on the invite that there might be tears? There should be a little WATERPROOF MASCARA warning right under where it says ‘Dress code: smart casual”. Between mains and dessert Mario Fenech interviewed the irrepressible Daisy, a league volunteer of 57 years. FIFTY-SEVEN YEARS. When he asked her what inspired her to support kids’ footy, her answer was ‘just seeing their effort to get those little legs all the way down the field”. We knowww, Daisy. Nothing cuter than little kids playing footy … remember how much we fell in love with Jacko in Orange? Her passion was enough to get us teared up, and we think Mario was choking back a few too.

We also really enjoyed that she turned Mario’s thank you kiss into a mouth-on-mouth moment. To be honest he’s not really our type (we know you won’t be offended, Fenech) but what a minx. Call us, Daisy. We’ll go out on the town.

To turn the night into a WiL-Origin extravaganza, the organisers sent one lucky Origin player to each table … except ours. Discrimination! Either discrimination, or somehow the players got wind of this and bribed someone to make sure they didn’t have to eat with the Errol girls. Instead we sat with ErrolSuperStaaah Bert. Sure he’s great company but if he’s given us Swine Flu we will be pissed.

If you’re wondering who gets the most love in the Blues team, it’s a tie between Robbie Farah and Craig Wing. When those two were sent to their tables, the crowd damn near lost their minds. Bitches are hits! One table even called over Dave Williams and his rapidly fading fairy floss beard to take their pics with Wingy. Um, this is a Kangaroo winger. Not a photo monkey! Can’t they rope in the Daily Telegraph photog for this shit? Poor Dave.

In other news now that the pink dye is fading, Dave isn’t so much fairy floss as coconut ice. Under the pink is a big ol layer of white beard. We couldn’t figure out if the beard is a fashion crime or a tasty delicious snack. Sadly we have no updates from Dave’s life for you because to be quite honest we couldn’t look at him without laughing, let alone carry on a conversation.

So let’s talk about the rest of the Blues.

Obviously Kiki is overwhelmed with joy at her Dragons boys representing NSW, and was even more joyous when Justin Poore strolled in, smiled and said hi … all of his own volition! We didn’t even force him to be nice! It’s always comforting to know someone has read Errol but still isn’t terrified of us.


Put down your flippers Monas! You’re playing Origin!

We were also delighted to see Joel Monaghan in the squad as a shadow player. As he walked in we spontaneously yelled MONAS WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? and rushed in for the sort of big emotional hug that you usually see at the Arrivals terminal in Sydney aiport. Not only is he the funniest man in the NRL, he also looks ever so dapper in a suit. It’s not his fault he forgot to bring shoes to match. Maybe he just doesn’t like wearing them, like me? I DON’T LIKE TO BE CONFINED! I’M A FREE SPIRIT! LOZZY SAYS SO!

Incidentally I somehow overlooked the fact that he would be there. Why? I don’t know. I am an idiot. But my subconscious somehow knew, because on Wednesday morning I went to stay ‘Origin’ and accidentally said ‘Monagin’ instead. IT’S LIKE I’M PSYCHIC. I HAVE A FIFTH SENSE.

Trent Barrett’s selection was quite the suprise, and truthfully we have been fairly ambivalent about it. There were tears and arguments in the Errol office, till eventually work experience boy Lachie used his one good arm and shoulder to get out the butcher’s paper and got us to brainstorm our way back to love and understanding.


Flirty, thirty and thriving!

Sure we were disappointed that the NSW selectors didn’t stick with their ‘new blood’ selection policy, and heartbroken that Errol retro fave T.Camps isn’t in Origin II, but there are pluses.


Universal truth: it’s not easy to pull off anger while holding flippers.

Pluses like since Barrett is in the team, we now have an Origin rep who is OLDER THAN US. But four years. Hurrah! Finally! We’re sick of those baby blue bastards rubbing their youth in our faces.


The intimacy helps me cope with the disappointment.

And the bright side of Hot Bitch Cooper missing out on selection is that we didn’t pass out from lust over the entree at the Women in League dinner. God I am so glass-half-full today. I almost make myself sick.

Instead we decided to chat up Craig Bellamy and see if he really is White Goodman. Remember that post? … good times). To our incredible disappointment he’s … likeable. GOD. How inconvenient. Likeable and charming in a well-fitting suit. I would even say he’s rather … dapper. DAMN YOU BELLAMY. Doesn’t he realise we’re trying to hate the Storm? Selfish bastard.

We also discovered Glenn Stewart looks pretty sharp with his new blonde hair (keep it Glenn! We like it) and that Anthony Watmough is an awesome and supportive cheerleader for women in league and in the media (and especially us, bless his heart).

And in true Errol fashion we managed to embarass ourselves. As the boys left for their villas, Kiki gripped Justin Poore by the shoulder and fervently announced in a stage whisper: “I’m so proud of you, Justin“. She really is invested in her Dragons boys. And the only think she could manage to say to Robbie Farah was to yell HI ROBBIIIEEEE in his face.

Worst of all: we got burned by Mario Fenech. No shit, kids. As we were chatting to him he told us “well you two are .. characters”. And when we protested that was ambiguous and kinda mean he followed it up with “…. well I was trying to be nice”.

THAT WAS NICE? MARIO FENECH TOTALLY DISSED US. SEE IF WE PLUG YOUR SOON-TO-BE-LAUNCHED WEBSITE THEFALCON.COM NOW.

Pics thanks to the gorgeous BS and his blog, Kiki’s iPhone and the Sydney Morning Herald (David Williams).

11 

erroltips winners board – round seven

April 28th, 2009

I had a revelation this week. By which I mean ‘Kiki told me something’: I am a really shit tipper. It’s true. I really am. Just godawful.

Kiki always mentions on here how she isn’t much for having emotions, except when it comes to football and ANZAC day. I have the opposite problem. I JUST HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS. When I was ten, I read the Incredible Jumbo (if you are considering it, don’t) and cried for literally two days at the tragedy of the elephant dying. I cried the first time I saw my friend in her wedding dress. Also during my speech at the wedding (sorry about that). I was inconsolable when Laurie ended up with Amy in Little Women, for reasons I don’t really understand.

I cried when I turned up to Caesar’s Palace in Vegas all eager to see Elton John and found out his show was cancelled. ARE YOU KIDDING ME, ELTON? I get unnaturally outraged about things like tinted windows. I also get unnaturally happy when I see things like puppies and President Obama and really pretty clothes, and I squeal when I watch High School Musical. If feeling heaps of stuff was a super-power I could totes be in X-Men.

So basically every single week I sit down to enter my tips and my brain feebly tries to convince me that I should pick, you know, the better team … but is met by a resounding but I don’t WANT to.

This kind of disregard for logic is why you will find me sitting comfortably on the Errol tipping ladder at … 23. Out of 36.

Like this week, I just couldn’t tip against T.Camps after he cracked me up blushing at the mention of bras and talking about Rogaine on the footy show. You know?

(By the way the Footy Show should look into having T.Camps and Robbie Farah on every week. I haven’t watched that show for about two years, because Thursday is the day I usually put my hair in curlers and do cross-stitch, so those two got them at least 1 extra viewer last week).

Anyway. The tipping. Our friend/tipping nemesis Vitlin and ‘the beers’ managed a perfect round … and even though one of those points was a footytips pitypoint because the Warriors and the Storm had a draw (WIN OF LIES!), that meant he won the whole round.

Lozzy has now dropped out of the top five (which is also why she refused to write this post) and our leaderboard looks like this:

1. Bec the guest-blogger / kitten-saver / lesbian
2. Vitlin and his demon tips
3. Miss Bree
4. Baz
5. SouthSydneyRussellCrowes (hi Rusty!)

17 

footy observations: fishies in water

April 7th, 2009

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.