When I walk out into my common room at 1:45AM on a Sunday night and the first thing I notice is the distinctly strong smell of what the guys down the hall are smoking (for, indeed, I followed the scent as it grew ever stronger down the hall and to a closed door from which moderately-volumed music seemed to emanate) I have only two thoughts. 1, who the hell smokes that much on a Sunday night? 2, how is it that none of these people ever seem to get caught?
Thus goes it.
And now I will nap. SOOOOOO tired. Bye now.
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