I'm now into driving

I got a car but I don't drive. But right now I'm into driving. I drive a brand new vehicle - a wheelchair.

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The first day I drove my car-chair, er, wheelchair I rammed a flowerpot. Buak! Pusgay! The owner called the Citom. The Citom came. And arrested the complainant!

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Everytime I celebrate Christmas, everytime my birthday comes around, and Valentine's Day too, there's a private telecom office here that sends me gifts. This office is manned by smart guys.

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I have temporarily stopped reading Raffy Uytiepo's column on running. It makes me cry, the column. Reason: Can't run anymore. Not even if a pit bull wants to tear me apart.

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One of the Christmas cards I got from friends in the US came from a certain Dick (gave no family name). There's a handwritten note on the left side of the card. It says: "Dear Nito. Am sure you don't know me from Adam but I've long known you through The Freeman my, favorite paper when I was still back home (Lahug). Heard you're sick so our Charismatic community here in New York, many members of which know you, has been holding prayer meetings for your fast recovery"

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With letters like that, no matter how short, can you stop a tear from dropping? I would like to thank Dick for his Christmas card, his handwritten note, and for the heartwarming sentiments expressed. Thank you, thank you and Merry Christmas!