8:38 PM, Sunday, June 28, 2009
The whole house smells like oil.
Marco's friend came over and fried dumplings and now Kenn is on the brink of popping a blood vessel.
He's right I suppose. This is a home. You don't walk into someone's home at 9pm and cook stuff in their kitchen and stink up their house.
I guess if Marco were here it'd be okay, but he's not.
I feel tired even though it's only 10.30 and I don't know why that is.
Sigh. It's going to be a long night...
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