farewell, uncle wayne

March 30th, 2011

Pic. Robert Peet via SMH

I believe that Bennett stands somewhere below Jack Gibson, which is somewhere just above God.

– Roy Masters

Meeeemories, like the corners of my miiiiiiiind ….

Uncle Wayne, did you have to leave so soon? He told the world today that he’s getting his ass out of Kogarah (yes, yes and the Gong! Put down your pens and stop writing complaint emails, Steelers fans) at the end of 2012.

But then … we knew that didn’t we? It was only ever a short-term thing. Wayne was the kind of guy who floats into the Dragons’ life, reminds them that romance still exists, picks them flowers, makes them feel alive, wins them a premiership, then gets back into his dusty old pick-up and drives on.

You know, like in the Bridges of Madison County.

… why do you think the players call him Clint Eastwood?

Y’all know it, bitches!

But we’ve had some good times between us in the last two years, while he was rocking the Red V.

Remember when Kiki showed him her Dragons necklace, then touched his arm and told him it was like touching Jesus?

Remember all the special times he shared in the coaches box with Hot Bitch Cooper?

Not to mention the time they replayed the Wayne Bennett Australian Story on the ABC and I stupidly re-watched it and cried like a bitch. Again. Listen to him talk about his son without weeping like a lost kid in Franklins. DO IT. I DARE YA.

And of course, the time I like to call The Unpleasantness, when he led the Dragons in a crushing grand final win over my gorgeous little trouble-making Chooks. Sigh.

And here’s the deal: “it’s not about money”. Which, if you ask me, is bitch-crazy. If that was me I’d be raking in cash and buying the shit out of the whole of Melrose Avenue.

But reading between those lines, Uncle Wayne’s looking for a new project. He’s on the hunt for his next downtrodden, disillusioned housewife so he can restore her faith in love.

Which means if you are an NRL club that no one – EVER – expects to win a premiership again, you’re in luck. Roll up kids, if you’re a confirmed loser without any kind of hope at all, you could be the winner of a SHINY NEW WAYNE BENNETT.*


Knights fans? Cowboys fans? … Come one, come all! Leave your applications in the comments section, why don’t ya?


footy observations: welcome back, footy!

March 15th, 2011

Mazeltov, kittens! (I can say mazeltov now because I found out last year I’m officially Jewish. Surprise-Jew!)

Mazeltov, congratulations and happy happy days because footy is officially back.

Well, happy days for everyone except John Cartwright. Let’s drag out a picture from 2010 that already sums up the current state of mind of Oh Errol’s reigning sexiest coach in league:

… so, pretty much as normal then. And what about Des Hasler?

Yup, still throwing the semi-regular tanty. So the world is as it should be. Carry on, then.

And just like you know that it’s Christmas when you see the ham shelf at the deli is empty, the department stores start pumping out Kenny G carols, or when drunk girls start roaming the street dressed as slutty santas … there are a few telltale signs that footy is upon us.

For one thing, Freddy Fittler and Joey Johns appear back on your tv like two comical little angels of lolz. Watching them giggle on channel nine is music to our ears, like the laughter of children playing with the Christmas toys. Except it’s unlikely Freddy or Joey will pull anyone’s hair or vomit after drinking part of the mysterious chemical solution that came with their Magic Garden.*

* Unlikely, but not impossible.

note: may not be actual Morris.

You also know it’s that time o’year when a Morris brother (this time it was Josh) streaks away on his long, long bambi legs to score an 80+ metre try. No one catches a Morris! They’re adorable little genetic freaks!

Next thing you know, a player we adore is struck down by injury. This is heartbreaking, and inevitable. Like finding out that the teeny tiny box under the tree you thought was from Cartier is actually tiny because it contains a gift voucher from Katies. Devo.

Little Joshie Morris and Sam ‘Ready Steady Cook‘ Burgess are both out for at least a month, Manu ‘fierce bitch’ Vatuvei is gone for two months, and baby Chase Stanley and Scott Geddes are gone for the season. HEARTBREAK. It’s just Katie’s vouchers and Nickelback CDs all over the place.

These are the times when I’m grateful I have the Daily Telegraph to keep things in perspective.

Forget about players’ emotional health or Johnny Lang and his attempts to figure out his line up for the Bunnies’ next game even though he can’t find his glasses and no one will listen to his old man stories: WON’T SOMEBODY THINK OF OUR FANTASY TEAMS?

In other, less shocking news, Parramatta didn’t suck in round one. Do you know why this isn’t surprising? Cause you totally read my preview over on One HD where I said they wouldn’t suck.


And because I’m heaps good at watching movies and heaps good at writing shit, I believe I compared Stephen Kearney and his rag-tag crew of lifesavers, old men and Daniel Mortimer to Gene Hackman and his team of ringers in the feel-good family classic ‘the Replacements’.

From now on I shall refer to him exclusively as Gene. Gene Kearney. Dan Mortimer can be Keanu Reeves.

Meanwhile I can’t wait till Parra make the top eight and people start wearing Hackman masks on the train. The Gene-Train!

And in the least shocking news of all, Uncle Wayne’s Dragons are still carving up the NRL. Because Uncle Wayne is the ultimate life coach. His book even made Kiki have feelingz and we all know she almost never has those.

The only thing we don’t know is where he’s going next year. It’s like NRL lotto … no matter what your team, you could be the winners! And your prize is a shiny new premiership delivered in the hand of Wayne Bennett.

And you know you’d accept him too. Don’t lie. I mean like Brian Smith and all … he got us to the grand final, and I find it cute and fitting that he coaches the Roosters and kinda looks like a little chicken, also he was super-polite to me when I interviewed him at Ringrose Park. But I’d still trade him in for Uncy Wayne.

It’s like the freebie five for married couples. If you meet anyone on your freebie five, you can shag ’em, and your husband can’t complain. Which makes Wayne Bennett the coaching version of Hot Bitch Cooper.

Or, I dunno, Beyonce if you’re a dude.


Now there’s a game recap coming later this week, but first let’s check in on Erroltips 2011.

We have 113 intrepid tippers on board so far, the tiny vodka bottles are being handed out as we speak, and as of week one, the leader board looks like this:


sassy’s grand final wrap-up: only one errol can win

October 5th, 2010

I won’t lie, there was a point – about 15 minutes into the second half of the grand final – where I cried. Not snotty Marley and Me-type crying. It was more a general Brett Morris-esque welling. I promised Kiki before the game that I wouldn’t weep, and I was determined to keep my promise. I’m nothing if not really petty and really stubborn.


By that point, all was lost and I knew it and it was heartbreaking. More than once I wished I was watching the game at home so at least I’d be able to listen to Rabs Warren commentate. His voice is just really comforting, and boy did I need comfort. Then Flossy Nightingale scored his second try and I got beer all done the back of my 2009 wooden-spoon jersey from over-excited Dragons fans and the sheer cold shock of being covered in mid-strength beer (they were fresh ones) snapped me back from the crying abyss.

So here’s how the game went down from our seats in the stratosphere.

The view from our seats: I should’ve known this was a bad omen.

SO MANY DRAGONS FANS. Those bitches was everywhere! And who was surprised? After last year, they had to Believe. Their team just had to transfer their skills into the finals series. On the other hand, as a Roosters fan, there’s a reason I didn’t have tickets: Because I’m not insane. I’m only that much of an optimist when I’m drunk or take a knock to the head.

I was expecting maybe … seventh or eighth for my boys. Knocked out first or second round of the finals at best. You know, something respectable, but not excessive. Something to inspire them to keep going for next year. Little did I know that Brian Smith – teeny tiny Smithy of the soothing voice and the dry, dry jokes – was a Rooster-whisperer and my team would start pulling Tigers-2005-style wins off as the season went on. It was like coming out of a hellish breakup (also knownas 2009) fat, acne-covered and depressed, and all of a sudden realising you’ve met the most perfect guy EVER. I was shocked and amazed and delighted.

Is it sad that I’m comparing my footy team to a boyfriend? Probably. But considering I spend Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday nights with football, it’s pretty accurate.

In the end, it turned out the 2010 Roosters/my new boyfriend weren’t going to have the whole fairytale package. They lost the grand final/he snores … but whatever. They made me happy, and I’m proud. And here’s why I think my babies couldn’t pull it off and Kiki’s dragons could.

GRAND FINALS NEED GRAND FINAL PERFORMANCES. I’m looking at you, Jason ‘Flossy’ Nightingale. The Dragons left-side is always their go-to attack side (shout out to Brett Morris for making the Kangaroos side again!) but with Gasnier back they started moving the ball to Flossy on the right wing, and the Roosters were too tired/demoralised to keep him out. Flossy you little gun! We always believed in you! It totally helped that he wore his lucky boots: those black ones that make it look like he’s a little kid who forgot his boots and had to play in school shoes. Maybe he could get sponsored by Clarks?

Truthfully, we thought he’d take the Churchill medal, but it turns out Joyce still really loves fullbacks (remember her lolz quotes about Billy Slater?), and I’m pretty sure Flossy doesn’t give a shit anyway cause he’s a grand final-winner.

Instead, we got to see Darius Boyd give one of the most unintentionally nerdy speeches ever when he accepted the Clive Churchill. It started with him standing around awkwardly and yelling ‘WOOO!’ and ended with him saying “now let’s go party!” like an American frat boy. Oh, Darius. It was an appropriate speech to hear when the Whitest Team in the NRL had just won a grand final.

Darius bringin cool back to the locker room whut whut

(For the record, not saying they’re white supremacists n stuff, just that they’re literally WHITE. B.Moz, Hornbag, Benny Creagh, you see where I’m going. There’s a lot of milk in the Dragons fridge and not much coffee).

WHAT’S THAT WAYNE BENNETT QUOTE ABOUT A CHAMPION TEAM NOT A TEAM OF CHAMPIONS? Cause yeah … that. I thought Floss was the best on the field and the most improved on the field but I wouldn’t fault any of the others, bar a few rain-related mistakes. Dean Young killed it. Jeremy Smith killed it, while looking like even more of a complete babe than usual.

Exhibit A. Dean Young congratulates Jeremy Smith on winning a non-tainted premiership and being a dirty spunk.

Weyman killed it, while he was on the field. Which reminds me, I refuse to believe Daniel Conn came in with a swinging arm until I see it. I also plan to never watch the replay, so Daniel Conn is innocent. The end. QED.

And lastly, TWO HOOKERS ARE BETTER THAN ONE. At least that’s what Charlie Sheen says. Boom tish! With the beauty of hindsight, 80 minutes of Jake Friend was no match for Dean Young and Nathan Fien. They were too sharp and speedy and his defence got too soft. Sad but true. I wouldn’t say any of my boys had shockers. They just didn’t bring the spark: they were a six when – at times this year – they’ve been a nine. Two words: next year.


Wanna know WHAT WE DID?

The UDL really brings out Yassy’s classy side.

Through a massive stroke of luck, we had tickets to the game, and the always fabulous Yasmin came with us, even though her two favourite players Moonie Vanoodie and Jarrod Yee-Hah weren’t playing. It probably helped that she has dirty crushes on Todd Carney and Ben Creagh, though. She sat between us, and even let me lay my head on her shoulder in despair in the second half. Usually she doesn’t much care for being touched, so thank you Yas!

After the game, while the Indian Roosters fan in front of us openly wept and was consoled by his girlfriend, we decided the best way to celebrate Kiki’s win, drown my sorrows and avoid train queues was to head to the Olympic Park pub and drink UDLs and dance to a covers band. Nothing cures sadness like dancing to Footloose and some comforting hugs from random Roosters fans and kindly Dragons while Kiki can-can dances around the pub. The general theme of the night from Drags fans was: BUT YOU GUYS DID SO WELL THIS YEAR! CONGRATULATIONS!

Kiki’s Grand Final headpiece (she made it herself!) both entertained and confused drunk people.

Next stop: The Beach Road Hotel for Kiki to gloat at Roosters fans. The only problem was that everyone there was so pissed they thought she was wearing Roosters colours.

And lastly: a drink and a pizza with our mate Shorto from the Jacksonville Axemen. Love you Shorto! Say hi to your dad for us!

I can’t express how much I adore every single Rooster for rebuilding us back into a team to be proud of this year. They finished second but it’s not enough of a reward for everything they did. All I can say is that seeing this broke my heart. It hurt even more than seeing Fitzy leave for the English Super League with a wooden spoon and a 16-point loss to the Cowboys, urgh.

And just as I was about to fume about Mark Gasnier sailing back in to get a Premiership ring, he stepped in to comfort Frank-Paul the Wrecking Ball:

Two words: NEXT YEAR. Next year, my darlings.

All pics: Getty Images


all stars, all time

February 16th, 2010


How can we put into words just how freaking insanely AWESOME this game was? Admittedly, when it comes to footy, it doesn’t take us much to get excited. It doesn’t even have to be an actual game. We get footy thrills from just watching training, reading lolz articles, seeing photos of players we like in the paper (OMG GUYS PRESTON IS ON THE FRONT PAGE!!!), discussing fantasty football at length during plane rides, listening to Wes Carr’s ‘Woah’ on iTunes…..you get the idea.

As the above photo accurately portrays, when it comes to footy we are pretty much cats with a ball of yarn. EXCITING! FASCINATING! OCCUPIED FOR HOURS! But even our tragic league brains can recognise when something is universally amazing. And the All Stars game was. When non-footy people make a point of saying to us ‘wasn’t that game brilliant?’ you know it’s hit a nerve.

Shout out to our gorgeous friend Eddie, who is a recent footy convert….she watched it alone at home back in Sydney and sent us endless text messages like “Ummmm I keep tearing up. What is wrong with me??” and “Ooooh Sam Burgess is hot!“. Considering she doesn’t even like guys, that’s a pretty big compliment for Sam.

All this excitement, AND  we got to hang out at the NRL’s One Community stand before the game and people…WE MET HEALTHY HAROLD. Yes, the giraffe that came to our primary schools and taught us about healfy fings. In a caravan. Everyone knows any message spread inside a caravan is one worth spreading. Together with Harold and Mario Fenech we challenged kids to making funny faces with fruit, vegies and wholegrain tortillas. Yes, you read that right.

After spending the week in the Goldy and meeting so many Indigenous people involved in the game, players, management and fans, watching the game took on a whole new significance for us. Not to get all political or anything, but when the amazing dancers were performing, we marvelled at the fact Indigenous culture is still so strong and so proud, after White Australia has had more than a few cracks at destroying it.


The feeling in the stadium was something we’ve never experienced before. It made Origin look understated and passionless. We will straight up admit : shit got emotional. There was definitely goosebumps and we had to literally choke back tears a few times during the night. Please don’t point out that we are weird or creepily and suddenly attached to a people and culture that are not our own, WE KNOW, WE KNOW. You just can’t help how ya feel, okay?

We won’t go through the game play by play, because we know you all watched it for yourselves, but our highlights include – Wendell’s beautiful try and his hysterical didgeredoo routine afterwards, youngin Blake Ferguson chasing down Izzy Folau to save a try, Corey Patterson’s MASSIVE hit on Kurt Gidley (we swear you could hear that oooooof noise up the other end of the field) and best of all, Errol fave Tiny Dancer Soward scoring that absolute ripper of a try to win the game. SO.FREAKING.GOOD.

Oh, also? Matt Cooper in an entirely white uniform was pretty sweet too.

Much fun was had post game too. Including –

– the fact that we were so proud that we were in the same room Wayne Bennett for hours without accosting him … until Kiki’s liquid courage kicked in and she trotted over to introduce herself. The result? UNCLE WAYNE SMILED. For realz. She also showed him her beloved Dragons necklace (that she never takes off) and he said it was … wait for it … “adorable”. Yes people, Uncle Wayne used the word adorable. We are still speechless.

(She also may or may not have put her back out while performing her OMGZ I JUST MET GOD dance for a group of people. It’s still sore.)

– Sassy finding herself in a Serious Discussion about what would be the best approach to coaching a forward like Sam Burgess with Brad Fittler and Telegraph journo Andrew Webster. All she could offer was ‘ummmmmm … did you know I once coached a fantasy team?’

– a rugby league legend helpfully telling us if we wanna be on TV, we have to ‘tone the hair down … you have TOO MUCH HAIR’. Also ‘you have beautiful faces! The hair is a distraction!’. Easily the weirdest and loliest moment of our week, possibly our lives. Kiki had to talk down Sassy from marching over and telling him it’s Queensland, mate! You try keeping your curls under control in this kind of humidity. GOD.

(He had clearly been to one of those management courses where they teach you how to give advice without offending people by MAKING SURE YOU THROW IN A COMPLIMENT. “Girls! You have too much hair … um, but you’re beautiful too. Please don’t hit me” – Sass)

– Kiki finally fulfilling her aim of the week, and getting her hug from Jamal Idris.  And by ‘getting’, we mean she stormed up to him purposefully, yelled JAMAL I AM YOUR BIGGEST FAN I HAVE TO HUG YOU and launched herself at him. Thankfully he didn’t seem to be too bothered by her creepiness.

– Kiki then asking Jamal if his acting ambitions are for real, or were they a media beat up. His answer? He really, truly wants to be an actor. We could not love him more.

And with that, the best week ever was over and we were relegated to being sad pandas. The countdown to All Stars II has begun. Bring it on!

We want to say big BIG thankyous to the NRL, especially Trish, Janelle, Jodie and Nish. And much love to DG, DT and John B, thanks for for the encouragement and support boys! Also thanks to Jason from the Titans, Phil, Chris and the boys from the NSW U16’s Indigenous team. And of course to all the players who were very generous and gracious all week.


footy observations: new careers and new love

August 4th, 2009

Darlings, have you missed us? I know, I know, it’s been ages. I’M SORRY. It turns out that staying up all night watching the Ashes so we can blog for Cricket Australia, and spending your Saturdays whipping up columns for NSWRL really takes up a girl’s time.

But Sassy’s back now so you can stop biting your nails and weeping and just relax. Yes, yes, I promise I will never leave you again. Seriously, let go of my leg … except you Kevin Gordon. You can stay right there. As you were mister!

And now I’ve got my creepy quota in for the day, let’s talk footy. Everyone’s lost their damn minds talking about Karmichael Hunt switching to AFL. Which, to be completely honest, confuses me. Confuses me in the sense that …. I just don’t care. I feel like I’m missing something. I’m not shocked, cause didn’t he already switch to Union. Or did I make that up? Whatever. Let’s just say Karmichael is a straight-up code whore. And I’m not even angry! I kinda understand why someone would switch to AFL. They do have those adorable little sleeveless tops, plus from what I hear, spring rolls at the ground. Sounds pretty sweet to me. Mmmmm …. spring roll. All you have to give up is the joy of playing the greatest code in existence (for explanation, please see replay of Monday’s Tigers vs Sea Eagles game).

Pic. Glen McCurtayne

Best of all: HE’S A QUEENSLANDER. Buh-bye K.Hunt! Take the rest of the maroons with ya, why don’t ya? In fact the only downside of K.Hunt jumping ship is that, when Channel 9 broadcast Broncos games, we now no longer have the delightful possibility that Ray Warren will accidentally call him ‘Kunt’ again. Man, that was sweet.

But this week we realised he might’ve inspired some other league boys to start looking at their options. For one thing, Robbie Farah has a brand new career as a Hot Bitch. When did this happen? Seriously, when? We always adored Robbie for his Serious Thoughtful Comments at press conferences. Now we also adore him for his awesome new beard, and the fact that when he breathes in you can see his six pack through his jersey.

Apparently Robbie does not often indulge in a Robbie Farah kebab.

Terry Campese is in intense training for the T.Camps Michael Jackson tribute hour, hitting the road in the off-season 2009.

Not to mention that every time we turn on the tv we see another NRL player out there pimping out their skillset and trying new things. After his awesome performance on the weekend against the Knights I almost choked on my healthy healthy dinner when I saw Shaun Kenny-Dowall on Sports Tonight rocking out in the pool at swim school.


The way the Roosters season is going right now, if SKD leaves me to join the New Zealand Silver Waterfern swim team or whatever the fuck they’re called for the Commonwealth games in 2010, I will actually end up rocking in the corner in the foetal position. One win does not make a summer, or whatever that expression is. Although a few more losses from the Sharkies should keep us away from the wooden spoon, and, oh, how I cling to that.

Although I do think it would be pretty sweet if Beau Ryan passes his anatomy course and takes up a new career as an Osteopath. I find him oddly …. comforting. I would totally trust him with my spinal health. Although maybe not so much if he decides to become a plastic surgeon or something, because bitch is having troubles with some of the basic concepts of the torsal region.

So, the rib bones connected to the …. boob bone.

The boob bone’s connected to the … ?

… arm? Really? Are you sure?

Oh yeah, that looks right. Boobs, then arms. Lookin hot, anatomy diagram.

Oh no that’s not part of the course! I just thought she looked like someone who’d like swimming. SKD told me he finds it soothing, hey.

He seems to be enjoying the anatomy stuff a lot more than he enjoyed his film course, anyway.

Beau cares not for Peter Jackson fantasy epics. AND THAT ARAGORN IS A DOUCHEBAG.

As for Scotty Prince, I have absolutely no fucking idea what he is doing in an underwater plastic capsule, with BEN ROSS of all people, looking at crocodiles. But here ya go, just because Prince Scotty the Caramel is the reigning Oh Errol snuggliest man in league, and that deserves a run:

Meanwhile before my proud and noble Chooks beat them over the weekend, the Knights were already down a few superstars. I was nestled in the couch last week watching them have their asses handed to them by Manly when all of a sudden the camera flashed to Jarrod Mullen and Chris Houston on the sideline, looking … HOLD ON A SECOND. WHY SO HAPPY BOYS?

More importantly, why is Jarrod Mullen making the EXACT FACE I make when I fancy someone and am busy trying to look cute while I laugh at their jokes, instead of cackling and slapping my knee like I normally do when I find something hilarious. J.Mull, you are TOTALLY FLIRTING. Next thing you know he’ll be sitting sideways on his chair and leaning in close to talk to Houston in preparation for a pash.

(Just by the way, hi Ben Cross in the background! Sorry about that time at State of Origin when I thought you were Danny Nutley).

You know what this means, right? Well, for one thing, Kiki is more jealous than words can express. She loves a bit of Chris Houston’s action. She always tells me so. I think it’s the ye olde blacksmith vibe that gets her. But more importantly, Danny Wicks is gonna be PISSED. He is so not gonna stand for someone making the moves on his mans. Not when they’re so involved: those two share a team, a changeroom, a home, AND a vespa. They are committed.

Oh man, just quietly that video never EVER gets old. Who would have thought two forwards riding a scooter together would be so lolz-inducing?

I feel like either one of Kiki and Danny Wicks might jump out of the bushes and try and ambush J.Mull at any time. My advice to him is to carry a bacon sandwich with him wherever he goes. That would distract either of them. Just chuck it and run like a robber trying to get past a Rottweiler.

J.Mull and Houston have nothing on the greatest love story of the 09 league season though, which everyone knows is a little something called Uncle Wayne and Hot Bitch.

Remember them?

How could you forget? He can hardly wait to hold him, feel his arms around him. What was my point?

Oh yeah, check out who popped up in the box (heh, box) at the Dragons vs Storm extravaganza at Kogarah.

FLOSSY NIGHTINGALE IS THAT YOU? Look at him all up in the coaches box, makin eyes at Uncle Wayne, not even looking at the big flashing talkie box that shows you the game. It’s some First Wives’ Club shit happening up in there … leaving one man for a younger model. Hot Bitch Cooper will not be pleased.

Luckily, I bet he looks fierce in some white pants.


Thanks as always to the gorgeous Cronkster and everyone’s favourite blog, Hot Aussie Footy Players Shirtless for the caps.


dragons vs roosters: the anzac day that wasn't

April 28th, 2009




Well I was sick. Last week. BIG TIMES. Something weird is going on. Either Greg Inglis is still working that Kiki voodoo doll or I seriously fucked someone over in a previous life. I’m gonna blame GI. Why? Because I can.

(Yes … that is me in a Dragons sleeping bag photoshopped into a hospital bed, well spotted readers.Well spotted.)

So last Tuesday night I felt a bit icky but powered on with Important Errol Business. Then I started vomming and didn’t stop for 7 hours. I ended up being rushed to the Emergency Room so I didn’t like, die from dehydration, or whatever it is that happens when you vom for 7 hours straight. I had an IV and about 25.7 litres of fluids and lots of drugs I can’t pronounce.

It was very Hollywood dramz. I was tres shitty I forgot to take my phone so I could be all Solange Knowles and update Twitter on my sicky adventures. Needless to say it was scary and upsetting and really gross. The most horrific thing about the whole experience was when the nurse WEIGHED ME. As if I wasn’t traumatised enough now I have climb on the bloody scales. Bastards.


I left with a truly disgusting bruise on my hand from the IV needle thingy and that’s it. They didn’t even hook me up with some sweet painkillers. I swear, what is the point of private health care if I don’t get mind altering drugs? Outrage! Joke! FARCE!

ANYWAY I struggled through the rest of the week (thank god I work from home in my PJ’s, oh the life of a professional blogger) hoping to get better for the Most Important Day of the Year aka ANZAC Day. In all seriousness, I hold ANZAC Day really close to my heart. It’s one of the only things I take seriously. It is a beautiful beautiful day and it makes me so incredibly proud to be Australian.

I love the solemn reflective mornings and the raucous two-up fuelled afternoons. As if that wasn’t brilliant enough, my beloved Dragons play the Chookies. I had an awesome day lined up. But my body said NO WAY KIKIPANTS. So I spent the day at home instead. BOOOOO. Thankfully Sassy came to visit me. I even put on actual pants for her. Okay, thats a lie. But I did put on a bra. Damnit….that’s a lie too.


Soooooo … THE DRAGONS WON! HOORAY! Obviously they heard I was rather poorly and decided to put on a winning performance for me. Right? Do it for the little girl in hospital, boys! Well at least Tiny Dancer Soward did, and thank god for that because that teeny package of awesome won us the game. Really, he did. 21 points all by himselfs! SOWIE KAPOWIE!

As the above picture clearly portrays, the Dragons were scarily awesome, Benny was at the helm creating fire with his bare hands and I was happy happy happy. I considered not labelling the pathetic corpsey bones as the Roosters to spare Sassy’s feelings … for about 2 seconds. HAH!

The game started off in the best way possible. One minute in and our beloved B.Moz pumps those impossibly long legs and goes over for a try! I leapt from the lounge and found myself upright for the first time all week. B.Moz cured me! He should start blessing water and shit. Get on that champ.


I deeply enjoy starting the game with a nice lil try. You know, despite what you read in Cosmo, sometimes a girl likes a bit of satisfication within the one minute mark. Just sayin.

Meanwhile I look over and Sassy was hiding under my dogs blanket. She knew it was gonna be a looooong afternoon. I kept reminding her although they may suck, at least her boys looked resplendent in their special ANZAC edition baby blue jerseys. Really, they look so pretty!

I could detail all the awes things the Dragons did (although there was still a few silly mistakes I’m not happy with, I’m sure Wayne is on that though) but let’s cut to the chase. The best thing about this game by far was the fully fledged return of Flossy Nightingale.YAAAAAY! Not only did he score a try, the adorable bitch busted out his best puppy dog cuteness on a scale not seen since 2008.


We here at Errol call him ‘the labrador of rugby league’. He just REALLY.LOVES.PLAYING.FOOTY. Obviously alot of players emote when they score tries, but what other player smiles whilst just … on the field? When Tiny Dancer busted through the line and scored that sweet sweet try Flossy just ran alongside him. Smiling, cheering and being a lovable little cheerleader. He just loves life. Life and footy and fun times! And we reckon he’s thought about licking people’s faces more than once. For the record Floss-Floss, you can lick my face anytime. WHO’S A GOOD BOYYYY?


Sup? Nothin…just warmin up my tongue.

Another highlight of the game was the way Sowie Kapowie popped over that cheeky field goal just before half time. No particular reason, just because he could. You know, the way I technically don’t have to write blogs for Errol but I do. Me and Tiny Dancer showin off our mad skillz just coz we caaaaan. WHAT WHAAAAT.

I kept waiting for the Chookies to score a try. Obviously I didn’t want them to win, but I wanted to see some semblance of a smile from Sassy. Truth be told she is kind of completely terrifying when the Roosters suck, I still haven’t recovered from the way she let loose after the Tigers game a few weeks back. We both looked expectantly at the TV … surely they must? Soon … it’s coming … almost … nope. Oh dears.

They finished the game at zip. Zero, nada, nothin … donut.


Mmmm….donut. If only the Chookies were covered in pink icing and sprinkles, I might like them a bit more. Just a suggestion.

pic – Anthony Johnson, LeagueHQ


dragons vs broncos – the shambles recap

April 10th, 2009


Okay it’s official, I am a crap person.

All week I’ve been planning to do the Most Awesome Post Ever on the amazingness that was Dragons v Broncos last Friday. And well, I just haven’t got round to it. I’m sure you are all terribly upset (“I’m not even mad, just disappointed…”) but you’re just gonna have to make do with this shambles of a post.

So now you are just getting the vitally important bits. And by vitally important I mean ‘stuff I find amazing and lolz’.


Despite his assertions that this game was no different from any other, you just know Benny was freaking out during the lead up. Well as much as he can freak out, which probably entails a slightly raised eyebrow and maybe an extra sip of his scotch and dry during happy hour at the leagues club.

[… or his lemon lime and bitters? I think I remember from the Uncy Wayne Australian Story that he is a teetotaller, although to be honest I was crying like a bitch about 5 minutes into it, so I could be wrong. IT WAS JUST REALLY EMOTIONAL. I LOVE YOU UNCLE WAYNE – Sassy]

And well, he kicked ass. And even more importantly – he emoted. I know you Broncos fans will go to your graves thinking his blood runs maroon and gold, but kids let me ask you this … did Uncy Wayne ever smile this way when coaching your team?


Yep, didn’t think so. Not only is he smiling, but the notoriously media shy Benny is well…well he’s posing for a glamour shot. I like to think donning the red and white has infused him with a new sense of self confidence. Bitch thinks he’s a sexy motherfucker! You just know he’s strutting around his bedroom, practicing poses and belting out Destinys Child lyrics.

Yes Wayne, I think we ARE ready for this jelly


Okay, I’m prepared to admit it. I was a complete and utter MESS this game. I know I’ve said it a million times but I am not a particularly emotional person. I don’t get stressed all that easily and I think most people would describe me as at least moderately laid back. But not when the Dragons play.

I become a whole other person. To be honest, shit is scary.

This game was extra special. The Broncs have been playing some awesome football, and even though they are totally our bitches and we had beat them in the last 7 games (and now it’s 8/8! yessss!) I was still really goddamn nervous. I guess I wanted Benny and the boys to prove they are true premiership contenders. My Red V clad heart was literally beating out of my chest the entire time. I was pretty much a Warner Bros cartoon come to life.


Consequently, I spent the entire game in two positions. A) lying on the lounge in the fetal position covering my eyes, shuddering in fear and B) leaping off the lounge and performing my patented ‘we just scored a try’ routine. Which involves a victory dance that resembles a mutated irish jig, thrusting excitedly into thin air, and yelling SUCK IT BRONCOOOOS while giving the double rudey finger to the TV. God, I wish I was joking.

I am ashamed to admit this, but when Brisbane made that mini comeback just outside the 70th minute, I totally lost my nerve and developed a sudden urge to go and return a DVD. Yes kids, I literally left the house, got into my car and drove away. I hate myself.


Oh my, I don’t think I’ve ever been this proud of my boys. Sure we have won games before, but this one was different. Even Gus Gould announced it felt like an Origin match. That’s exactly how it felt. So tense, so full on, so fucking satisfying.


Let’s do a roll call, shall we?

BEN CREAGH – Look, we are just totally enamoured with this man. He embodies toughness. He never talks himself up, never plays dirty, he is just always THERE. Ready for the hit up, ready to make the big tackle and ready to roll over the defence and score a sweet sweet try. Not to mention he did all that on Friday night with a BROKEN NOSE. Bitch could only breathe through his mouth but did he ask to come off? Nope. It’s all the way with Benny Creagh!

[I think that slogan is some of my best work … thanks to ‘All the way with’ Stephanie Kaye from Degrassi for giving me the idea. Am seriously considering making an all the way with Benny Creagh sign for the next Drags game – S]

MICHAEL WEYMAN – Shit has this guy been a great buy or what? Used to love watching him punch on whilst at the Raiders. Obvs Wayne doesn’t put up with that silly bizness so now he’s just channelling his rage into making speedhumps out of the opposition. I cannot believe the man is only 24. To quote Michael K from Dlisted “That is some Benjamin Buttons shit!”.

JAMIE SOWARD – A long time Errol favourite, Tiny Dancer’s awesomness is finally coming to the attention of others. We couldn’t be happier for him! Scored a cracker of a try, had a brilliant kicking game and generally lead the team around like the little general he is. Well deserved Man of The Match. Extra points for leaving his head gear on during the interview. Heart.

BEAU SCOTT – I’ve always had a soft spot for Beau. His unexpected work in the centres in the past few weeks has been a revelation. Best moments on Fri night? Setting up that try for Dell, and sledging his heart out at any opportunity. He’s such a little shit and I love it.

BRETT MORRIS – Yaaaaaaaaay! Do we really need to say anything here? You people have eyes right? B.Moz had a cracker. That try was just….wow. Yet more proof that as soon as we write about someone, their awesomness increases exponentially. Science, just is etc etc


WENDELL SAILOR – Just when I think Big Dell couldn’t possibly get more amazing, he proves me wrong. He is one of the most marvelous humans to ever exist and no one will ever convince me any different. The Broncos crowd booed him every time he got the ball. What was Dell’s response? To score an awe inspiring try and kick the ball into the crowd. The exact crowd that were booing him. HE IS SO FUCKING INCREDIBLE.

Also, his constant sledging of the oppositon is something to behold. I think Antonio Winterstein actually shit his pants. Awesome.

PS – Did you know his middle name is JERMAINE? Wendell Jermaine. Holy shit that is great.



Okay I’ve been watching footy for a bloody long time but I can honestly never remember seeing a player hanging in the coaches box the way Hot Bitch Cooper was. You know, just chillin with rugby league’s greatest coach. As you do. I literally got text messages from about 8 different people like ‘omg! kiki! hot bitch in the coaches box!’. OH I KNOW KIDS, I KNOOOOOW.

Sadly my man Coops is out with a dodgy hammy until Anzac Day, so I had resigned myself to weeks without his hotness gracing my TV. Obviously he could sense my despair so he rocked out some patented Hot Bitch intensity to cheer me up.


Channel 9 ….you better be getting this shit. Kiki says it’s my best side.


Oooooh hello…. I look pretty good from this angle too. Sweet.

Watching the interaction between UW and HB made me realise Coops could totally be assistant coach when (if?) he retires from footy. Actually judging from his perfect physique, he should actually be a conditioning coach. YESSS! After he’s finished with the boys, the Dragons will be an entire team of Hot Bitches. Oooooh mercy.

A particularly pervy Dragons fan on League Unlimited announced ‘Kiki, now all you have to do is make it into the top 17 and Cooper can condition you….up and dooooown’.

This is literally the best idea I have ever heard. I reckon I can carry it off too. I will be like Amanda Bynes in She’s The Man! Strap my boosies down, whack on an awes boys wig and rock up to training. OH HAI I’M TOTES UR NEW WINGER!


I can’t believe I’m going to admit to this (publicly), but one time I actually got mistaken for a boy.Yup.

Cracked out homeless dude – “Excuse me sir, do you have some spare change?”

Me – “………………….”

In my defence I was wearing no make up, ripped boys jeans, an old baggy vintage t shirt and newsboy cap. BUT STILL. GODDAMNIT.

Errrr anyway back to HB + UW. Did you see them….touching? Cynics will tell you it was a handshake, I say it’s the touch of two men about to invest in a Best Friends Forever necklace.


You heard it here first.

(Screencaps thanks to the lovely BS, he always gets us the good stuff. We love him. Go check his blog pls)