Aussie, Aussie, Aussie? no, no, no.

WARNING: The following post may contain material that will shock, scare or just plain confuse americans.

You've been warned.


Bad aussie, rotten aussie, crappy aussie-I don't deserve to celebrate australia day on monday because I'm probably the WORST AUSTRALIAN OF ALL TIME. I don't do anything that proper, decent australians do, like eat pavlova. I cant stand pavlova-it's like biting into a polystyrene cup filled with shaving cream. its the most nauseatingly sweet thing ever invented; it's just an enormous sugar crystal stuffed with sugar then covered with more sugar, then topped with fresh fruit so everyone thinks it's healthy. the last time I ate a slice of pavlova, I got two cavities, eight pimples and my blood sugar levels were so high, I couldn't blink for two weeks.
No, I don't deserve to celebrate australia day on monday. I can't even light a barbecue. I know, I know, thats supposed to be an instinctive Australian skill-like being able to eat a chiko roll or opening a twist top with your eye socket. I've seen little newborn Aussie babies, sleeping in their mothers arms, with one hand reaching towards the Weber, the other hand holding a lit match.
but I haven't got that instinctive barbecue-lighting thing. I load the barbecue with wood, kindling and newspaper, then I try lighting it, but it goes out. A friend comes along and says, "Hey what are you doing?" And I say, "I'm trying to light the barbecue." And he says, "It's gas, just turn the bloody knob."
I don't deserve to celebrate australia day on monday and I'll tell you why-I've never watched blue heelers. I NEVER WATCHED A SINGLE EPISODE THE WHOLE TIME IT WAS ON TV. I's a disgrace, it's an outrage. I don't even know who john wood is. He sounds like a porn star. In fact, I have a deep, dark secret and I'm going to reveal it right now... For many years... I used to pronounce "Lisa McCune" as "Lisa McCLUNE". Yes, thats the sad, shocking truth and i have to live with it for the rest of my days - along with not knowing which one of the Daddo boys is Lochie.
I don't like watching cricket, either. Proper, patriotic Australians love watching cricket. They love sitting in front of the television for the best part of the day yelling WAAARRRNEEEEYYYYY every now and then for no particular reason. But not me. I can't get into the game - it's too slow and the rules are confusing. And I don't understand any game where you've got a bunch of elite, world class sportsmen playing at the highest levels of competition and right in the middle of the match they break for tea. Tea! this is not a sport - it's a tupperware party. Every time I watch cricket, I expect someone to come out with a tray of scones and jam.

No, I really don't deserve to celebrate australia day on monday. but I've decided to take the day off anyway. So I guess that makes me Australian enough.

From the VERY PATRIOTIC desk of helio.

weekly updates.

from now on, I will only be updating my blog on weekends, when I have nothing better to do.

this gives me time to think up phresh! new ideas for my blog and also reflect on the week that once was...

from the computer-hogged desk of helio.

exercise.

waaaaah. lemme just say this first:

exercise is the fifth horse of the Apocalypse.

now, being a "night gamer" my natural habitat is my basement. where I spend my days between playing "0ld sk00l" atari and SNES games, and teasing people on whirled.

I am NOT a morning person.

so you can guess, that when my mother gave me a gym club membership, I freaked out.

Thanks, mother.

now let me just say something about gyms: they are just big, bulging ego trains.

you get big, buff ANGRY people in there every day, shouting at each other, "can YOU f33l THE PA1N!!!!!!!!1" or "a'hm pumping mah guns!!!#@436".

what the hell does that even mean?

and THEN you've got to endure watching guys working out or hopping around like bunnies to "oldies".

and THEN they go and pump their "guns", which are already full to bursting point,

and THEN they go and have one of those disgusting so-called "health smoothies" which looks like the love child of sultana bran and horse crap.

tastes like it too.

so now you see why I declined the gym membership.

after the first day.

at the time of writing, I am sitting in my cold basement, trying to pwn nubs, make crappy flash videos and tease people in whirled.

and you know, I couldn't be happier.

from the cheezel stained desk of helio.

texts. why?!

you know what really gets up my alley?

texts.

yes texts. you know, the little text messages that you send from your phone.

why? well, lets see...

first, texts are confusing to read. go on, open up your messages and read any in there.

confuzzling isn't it?

even my mother, who is the epitome of fanciness, texts like this:

R U @ scll?

granted, texts do have some good uses. they are easier to send than letters, and arrive a helluva lot quicker.

but i'm still not done...

second, texts are tedious to compose. 

you sit there for a long time, trying to tap away at the ever smaller keys of your phone, trying desperately to send your mate a message before the end of the lunch break and then have to endure the torture of decoding his reply.

I don't text.

I just ring people.

a lot easier.

Hi there!

This is my first post for this blog.

hopefully, this will turn out as a good Idea.

whether or not it will, well, we'll just have to find out, wont we? ;3

helio.