For Mar Roxas

Your current campaign add is a no nonsense, straightforward statement, a promise every Filipino can sleep soundly to for the next six years.

To Grace Poe, this candidate is not acting. He is a natural.
To Nognog, this candidate is rich. He is honest, too. He does not steal.
To Miriam, this candidate is brilliant. He mutters his thoughts in a language people understand.
To Duterte, this man is not a killer. In fact, he has a death wish. He wants to be President.

Mar Roxas, you have my vote.
Relax a little. My educated friends, most of whom are not as expressive as I am, will cast their votes for you, too. And here’s what’s more important, even the lowly folks can now see and understand your sincerity. I talk to them. They like you.

Okay, go on with the campaign. Leave no stone unturned. Go to the barrios. To Batanes. The farmer folks and the fisher folks would love to meet the man who would be their president. You would bring a smile on their faces. Clasp their hands. That would make them happy.

And about time you bring along Korina. And your son. We need to see a beautiful Filipino family.

With Prancer, my favorite reindeer.

On the eighth day of Christmas, a rant.

Dear backdoor neighbor who blasted all his fireworks towards my house. You must be sleeping soundly right now after all the irresponsible revelry you made last night, and I know, after all these years, that that comes with the thought that I’d pick on your mess by morning, which, I surmise, that you must be getting triply rich, judging from the number of sticks I have to bend over and collect. That’s all right. Vengeance is yours after I reminded you not to put barbed wires on your fence, because it is against the city ordinance. And the two times I asked baranggay to tell you to tone down the noise, because it was already midnight, and my children were studying for exams. Exams is a serious matter for us. After that, I was like that guy in the tv ad, I just have to endure your out-of-tune singing, and hoped you would treat me to a burger. Last night though was terrifying. I woke up like my house was on fire. But what can I do? I cannot curtail your merriment by shouting out the window to beg you to blow your bombs in your front yard. Just kept a prayer my house sustain your bombardment, And this morning, after a gasp at the state of my garden, I have to breathe in and condition my mind for some peace. It is New Year’s Day, after all. I am leaving fate to karma. Telling you though that one person you deprived sleep with is on duty today at the ER. And that couldn’t possibly be good karma. So, I checked my cp for a good image that would bring serenity to us all. And this blue tree popped. Christmas Season ends today, the eighth day of Christmas. Here’s to a blessed 2016. May neighbors be kind and congenial.