  p stands for the holy grill went to play football with isaiah, khairul, daryl and the crazy nut who just runs on and on by his own before khairul cuts him down with more grace than a swan. and oks is just... mugging and mugging and mugging away. if isaiah can run until the cows return home for the sixtieth time at a go, oks can mug twice as much.
and exams. argh. i hate exams. kenn just makes me so effing jealous cos he just studies so much you could smell his studiousness lingering in the air like a very long, very loud, and above all very disgusting fart. bonus points for a "squisssshhhhh-brapppppp" accompanying band. if you are into queer and sometimes lazy brit music, try stereolab. it's not anything as brilliant as their '94 work, but it's more electronic goodness and more queerness and so forth. cy says it's the soundtrack of my life: it sizzles, it fuzzes and pulses, it is naughty and playful, and buzzes with "blatant transgress of the immaculateness of pre-puberty".
and yes, that's why i am sometimes filled with a tremendous envy and respect for cy's command of my favourite language, and sometimes filled with a certain desire to choke her with a nylon cord because she can sometimes sound like she is one of those people who flip through a thick thesaurus just to get a sophisticated word to use. when she is, to the best of my understanding, nothing of the kind. and yes: run-on sentences (because i cannot remember what the actual term is) and bad grammar is... good. or bad. 
