Only the human heart’s capable of breaking over and over again, yet continue beating.

Originally, four wise men were supposed to visit baby Jesus, but Abel was sent home after the others learned he planned to give a fruit cake.

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”

When King Herod heard this, it disturbed him and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born.

“In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written: “‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.’”

Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”

But before they could leaved, they had to buy gifts for baby Jesus. Melchior secured some gold, Balthazar bought Myrrh, but Gaspar had difficulty with his gift.

Upon seeing Gaspar’s gift, a panicked Balthazar asked, “What’s that thing?”

“It’s my gift,” a puzzled Gaspar answered.

“Frankincense! Not Frankenstein!” Melchior shook his head, “Now take him back from where you got him – and hurry, you’re gonna make us late!”

Poor Thomas’ Almanac for December 25: In 1776, George Washington broke New Jersey law by crossing the Delaware River from Pennsylvania to the Garden State with unregistered guns.

Spreading love by way of Facebook is like spreading herpes the old fashioned way.

A friend posted a picture of a bunch folks on Facebook with the title: ‘Richest People on Earth.’ Note to self — I was not in the photograph.

Bill Gates is paying off Nigeria’s 76-million dollar debt to Japan and it all began with an email from a ‘Nigerian prince.’

The four of us sat and chatted for another hour, Mandi without her top, until the coffee was gone and our tongues tired. I excused myself after offering to help clean up and being refused, and returned to my little spot in the sand.

After dozing on and off for a couple of hours, I grabbed up my soap and waded into the lake to wash up. As I came back to camp, I noticed on one of the nearby bushes an orange life-preserver with a note duct-taped to it, reading: “You shouldn’t be on the water without one. Be safe. Beth and Neil.”

Had I missed it earlier or had they come back to leave this for me? Either way, I thought at the time that it was one of the sweetest things I ever been given – someone wanted me to live.

Hot dogs and hamburgers, that’s what Trig and Andi served for dinner that evening. Mandi came over and invited me. Surprisingly, she had a full tee-shirt and hiking shorts on.

It took me a bit, but I finally opened up about myself, telling the trio about my recent troubles, then making them laugh as I described my even more recent exploits. I also told them that I would probably be gone by the time the sun woke up. None of them seemed surprised at the announcement.

A couple of hours later, I retired to my sleeping bag and slept well on a full-stomach and a full-heart as I tucked my newly acquired life-preserver under my head and used it as a pillow. Unfortunately, morning came far too quickly and it was time after two days, to put out into the lake and head for the opening of the Colorado River.

If it hadn’t been for my debilitated straw hat, the merciless sun would have burned my brains from between my ears. I had pulled my tee-shirt off earlier in the day, keeping the preserver on, and because of this I’d developed a harsh burn on my back.

“That’s what the fuck you get for not thinking,” I chided, as I guided the canoe towards the embankment.

The sun was low in the sky to my right and I decided it was time to set up camp. I found a small alcove of sand and beached the canoe. I dragged it up behind a gathering of large rocks and set up a quick camp.

After a bowl of rice and beans, washed down with weak coffee, I headed up the rocky hillside to do some exploring. After a half-hour walk further down river, I found an obstacle that I had no idea existed; the Parker Dam. I had to decide at that moment whether I should attempt to portage the dam immediately or wait until morning.

“No time like the present,” I told myself as I located a place to put in once I made it around the dam.

It was well after dark when I finally finished my move. I rolled out my sleeping bag, laid down, falling asleep the moment my head ‘hit the pillow.’

It was long after the sun had set that I awakened to a heavy rainfall. Being along the river bank, I knew I could be in potential danger, so I grabbed everything and stuffed it in the canoe, and dragged the mass up the rocky hillside.

Once there, soaking wet and a somewhat perturbed at ‘Mother Nature,’ I climbed under the overturned canoe, which I had propped up against a wall of rocks meant as a boundary, and pulled my sleeping bag over me. I dosed on and off until the shower subsided, then I slept solidly for a couple of hours.

With my sunburned back, my rib-cage still sore from all the paddling, and everything I owned soaked, I concluded that my best bet was to let my gear dry out before putting back out into the river. It was while laying my stuff out to dry that I realized my boots were missing. All I had were a pair of ratted-out tennis shoes and a pair of shower sandals.

“Probably clear down Mexico way,” I moaned as I wandered up and down the river bank, hoping to see them. I thought that by tying the laces to an empty plastic jug I found, they’d remain afloat and easier to find if gone overboard. I was quick to surrender them to ‘the whatever’ that had them now.

Poor Thomas’ Almanac for December 24: Today is International Gristle Day. I know it’s a tough one to chew and even tougher to swallow.

My neighbor likes his cars like he likes his women — old and leaking.