My friend Cacoy

From a sports news item: "Gibo had tried his hands at football." When he becomes President, Gibo should try his hands at kicking out the corrupt. OK?

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I was limping as I moved around Sir Dodong Gullas' Halad Museum during its inauguration when I saw arnis topgun Cacoy Cañete also moving around with a walking cane. Tsk-tsk, I said.

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The sight of an eskrima kingpin walking with the help of a walking stick (which us oldsters call sungkod) gave me renewed strength. I said to myself: "Sir Jab, you're not alone."

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Cacoy and I did not shake hands. We hugged each other. We're long-time-no-see friends. Yes, I call him just Cacoy — not Noy Cacoy — to make him feel younger and stronger.

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I told Cacoy to always assert his masculinity as an eskrimador worth his salt. If possible not just to assert but also to insert his masculinity. Ha! Ha! Ha! We both laughed.

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The news says CAFGU militants are exempted from the total gun ban order. Come again? I'm totally confused.

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I could not sleep easily one night recently. My spinal injury was bothering me. I finally got drowsy by around 2 a.m. dawn. I had just started to fall asleep when my celfone sounded.

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I got up and opened my fone. The message said: "Free advisory. Pwede na ulit mag-ASTIGUNLI100: Unli call and text ... P100 for 3 days. To register, text ... etc., etc."

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I tried to get back to sleep again but couldn't ... Until it was time to pick up the BN and TF tossed by our newsboy on the garage ground. The papers come to me very early, just after the crowing of the cock.

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So Manny Pacquiao would be fighting a certain Clottey instead of one Mayweather. I look forward to another jab well done, Manny.

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