shit what does it mean?

why am I laying here in bed typing on the computer at 8:04 am on a saturday morning in July. I should be watching cartoons.

It doesn't seem like July. None of the months seem any different anymore. I guess that's San Francisco. Foggy and cold even, especially, in the middle of summer. Genius, pure genius.

Downstairs is getting his bump bump on already. Who plays that shit at this hour? His housemate said his music has a lot of *ounce* to it. And yep, it does. And she lives in the same apartment. haha he's starting to boom. weird. I guess he just doesn't think about other people. it sounds like some crap rave music from the nineties. fucking toad.