Numero uno

I've been living in Denver for almost a year now (Dec 09). I think that 'life' is finally on vacation now. Since my divorce (1yr), I have been going through a surreal, disoriented state of thought until recently. (During the past year) As life seemed to ease up a bit... all of a sudden it would punk-bitch slap me into the 18th century. And I know that wherever I was, the people who lived there sure didn't like black people. How else should I explain the numerous occasions of being dumped on? Not getting into specifics about my ordeals during my time in Denver (I'll save those stories for later). Anyhow.. 
This gets me thinking:
Why are people so callous towards to people whom they're supposed to love?
Why should liars be given the right to sleep at night? 
Why in the world do Denverites wear knitted, wool hats in 80+ deg weather?
And..
What does a penis look like again?  


ugh.. it's 1am. Night cap time. Lots of cramming to do in a few hours. Gnight.

I believe in the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

May He caress you with His noodly appendages.

RAmen.