"Ladzies and geantlemaan,

A verhy good afehnoon.

Today, we shall zalk about zee potfolio and zits clari-teh-istics."

Flipping through my notes, i twirled my pen and frown upon his flashy purple shirt, Afro hairdo, LV bag, and of course, his excellent plonouncia-cion.

OMG. That's freakin Pascal from the CF revision class?

Man. He rocks. I mean, he zocks.

I always have the impression that lecturers from LSE are bald, grumpy, wearing those uncle shirts with a clip pen in his shirt pocket, and having killer impatient stares. Yes, that's Amos. But surprise surprise, Pascal is not what i expected. Although i must admit, zhis wordings zis a trauma, and it just seems as if he might scream french vulgarities anytime because zhis simply cannot stand speaking zenglish!

But ok ok, i know what is happening here. You are straining your eyes and cursing under your breath that i'm destroying the rate your pupils have to dilate and constrict so forcefully within 2 inches from the screen. Zai cannot help it! Pascal Zocks!

And speaking of pronounciation, language barrier may not be that bad for most of the foreign students studying here, but seriously, some of them Really need to work on their articulation a lil bit.

Once, i was in MSM class, and zhis guy, i presume from vietnam (cos i can kinda tell from the entire bunch sitting along the row rattling some pho), needed to squeeze by my seat from behind to join zhis friends.

So any normal person will say "excuse me" right?

Well, he did. At least i Think he did. Cos when he said it, it sounded like KISS ME.

Naturally, i snapped my crampy neck and look at him shocked. Like wha?

Honey, i'm passionate, but let's tryy to take things one step at a time yeah. Wink.


And omg!

I freakin booked my drivin test already!


Zso, Who's ready for hell of a ride??