<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572</id><updated>2012-02-16T08:40:17.897-08:00</updated><category term='livre estará.'/><category term='religião'/><category term='2009'/><category term='Eu by: Me trying to be artistic'/><category term='Crianças Indigo; crianças; adultos indigo; Crianças Cristal'/><category term='25 de Abril +  fascismo nunca mais'/><category term='My Nazi 9 mm Walther P38.'/><category term='Lewis Carroll -Alice no País das Maravilhas'/><category term='Rui Veloso'/><category term='António Gedeão'/><category term='eles.'/><category term='viagem espiritual'/><category term='Maria do Rosário Pedreira - de A Casa e o Cheiro dos Livros'/><category term='feito por mim'/><category term='exupéry'/><category term='O MENINO DA LÁGRIMA'/><category term='serafim'/><category term='lyrics'/><category term='muito importante para os pais'/><category term='The Strokes'/><category term='will be ok'/><category term='led zeppelin'/><category term='exemplo'/><category term='Aladdin - A Whole New World Disney'/><category term='buda'/><category term='Yummy'/><category term='mhhh'/><category term='pai natal'/><category term='Xutos + Oioai - Pertencer'/><category term='Sabes uma coisa? 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Xavier.'/><category term='I’ll tell ya baby there we’re through  I’m leaving you for the last time baby'/><category term='Primos by: Me trying to be artistic'/><category term='Pai'/><category term='Joan Baez - Farewell Angelina (Live 1966)'/><category term='Pablo Neruda'/><category term='QI de viajante'/><category term='sonhar'/><category term='ética militar'/><category term='&quot;Namoro&quot;'/><category term='Freckles'/><category term='U2 One'/><category term='fantasmas; pastilhas; mecânica; labirinto;Puckman;arcade; Tohru Iwatani; classic'/><category term='Os Lusíadas de Luís de Camões'/><category term='the Devil'/><category term='priit sink'/><category term='individuo'/><category term='film'/><category term='filho pródigo'/><category term='MN  Copyright 2002 by Linda Gregg.'/><category term='Santa Claus is Coming to Town'/><category term='Bob Dylan'/><category term='OH MILLA'/><category term='sida QUE FOI ELE QUE MATOU O MEU SAPO.'/><category term='9 mm Walther P38.'/><category term='ovos moles'/><category term='La haine'/><category term='olha a cais'/><category term='de: A Mensagem'/><category term='jonh coulton'/><category term='youtube mp3'/><category term='Parenting'/><category term='Portugal'/><category term='The﻿ Beatles'/><category term='Arnold Lobel'/><category term='mars'/><category term='tu'/><category term='youtube para mp3'/><category term='E Depois do Adeus Paulo de Carvalho; 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copo de vinho por dia'/><category term='Edgar Allan Poe 1849 /A Dream Within A Dream'/><category term='pixies'/><category term='parabolas'/><category term='Ai Caramba ; Quadrilha; letras;lyrics.'/><title type='text'>Um blog da treta</title><subtitle type='html'>Este é um blog de ficção feito para agradar a todos e a ninguém . Qualquer semelhança com a realidade é pura coincidência...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>248</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1669527535201661180</id><published>2011-12-31T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T10:20:09.608-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2011'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2012'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2010'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ano novo'/><title type='text'>2012</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-evFLG0TWqeQ/Tv9SEnCsm7I/AAAAAAAAAUk/2FGrSMS3814/s1600/473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-evFLG0TWqeQ/Tv9SEnCsm7I/AAAAAAAAAUk/2FGrSMS3814/s320/473.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Quando 2011 começou, ele era todo seu.&lt;br /&gt;Foi colocado em suas mãos...&lt;br /&gt;Você podia fazer dele o que quisesse...&lt;br /&gt;Era como um Livro em Branco, e nele você podia colocar um poema, um pesadelo uma blasfêmia, uma oração. Podia...&lt;br /&gt;Hoje não pode mais; já não é seu.&lt;br /&gt;É um livro já escrito... Concluído.&lt;br /&gt;Como um livro que tivesse sido escrito por você, ele um dia lhe será lido, com todos os detalhes, e você não poderá corrigi-lo.&lt;br /&gt;Estará fora de seu alcance.&lt;br /&gt;Portanto,  antes que 2011 termine, reflita, tome seu velho livro e o folheie com  cuidado. Deixe passar cada uma das páginas pelas mãos e pela  consciência; faça o exercício de ler a você mesmo. Leia tudo...&lt;br /&gt;Aprecie  aquelas páginas de sua vida em que você usou seu melhor estilo. Leia  também as páginas que gostaria de nunca ter escrito. Não, não tente  arrancá-las. Seria inútil. Já estão escritas.&lt;br /&gt;Mas você pode lê-las  enquanto escreve o novo livro que lhe será entregue. Assim, poderá  repetir as boas coisas que escreveu, e evitar repetir as ruins.&lt;br /&gt;Para  escrever o seu novo livro, você contará novamente com o instrumento do  livre arbítrio, e terá, para preencher, toda a imensa superficie do seu  mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Se tiver vontade de beijar seu velho livro, beije-o. Se tiver  vontade de chorar, chore sobre ele e, a seguir, coloque-o nas mãos do  Criador. Não importa como esteja...&lt;br /&gt;Ainda que tenha páginas negras, entregue e diga apenas duas palavras: Obrigado e Perdão!!!&lt;br /&gt;E, quando 2012 chegar, lhe será entregue outro livro, novo, limpo, branco todo seu, no qual você irá escrever o que desejar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FELIZ LIVRO NOVO - FELIZ ANO NOVO!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autor: Desconhecido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; border: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clique aqui para ler mais:  &lt;a href="http://www.forumespirita.net/fe/convivio-dos-membros-do-forum/quando-2011-come231ou/#ixzz1i8aU3U6x" style="color: #003399;"&gt;http://www.forumespirita.net/fe/convivio-dos-membros-do-forum/quando-2011-come231ou/#ixzz1i8aU3U6x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1669527535201661180?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1669527535201661180/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1669527535201661180' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1669527535201661180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1669527535201661180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/12/2012.html' title='2012'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-evFLG0TWqeQ/Tv9SEnCsm7I/AAAAAAAAAUk/2FGrSMS3814/s72-c/473.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5943980277183097550</id><published>2011-08-23T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T13:46:19.399-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deus'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>  										 					&lt;div class="entry"&gt; 							 						&lt;a href="http://blog.forumespirita.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/a_230808031108-300x225111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-1299" height="225" src="http://blog.forumespirita.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/a_230808031108-300x225111.jpg" title="a_230808031108-300x22511" width="300" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Você  já percebeu que, às vezes, uma vaga tristeza se apodera dos  nossoscorações e nos leva a considerar amarga a vida? É que nosso  Espírito, aspirando a felicidade e a liberdade, se sente esgotado,  cativo ao corpo que lhe serve de prisão, em vãos esforços para sair  dele. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Reconhecendo inúteis tais esforços, caímos no desânimo e, como o corpo sofre essa influência, toma-nos:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;O cansaço,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;O abatimento,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;• &lt;/strong&gt;Uma espécie de apatia,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;• &lt;/strong&gt;E nos julgamos infelizes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;A  saudade dos amores que já se foram comprime-nos o peito, e a solidão  aproveita para se instalar em nossa alma sofrida. Os dias se sucedem e a  tristeza teima em nos fazer companhia… No entanto, é preciso que  resistamos com energia a essas impressões que nos enfraquecem a vontade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;São  inatas no Espírito de todos os homens as aspirações por uma vida  melhor. O próprio Cristo falou da felicidade que Deus nos reserva, na  vida futura, após vencidas as etapas que nos competem na estrada  evolutiva. Devemos, por nossa vez, aguardar pacientemente o anjo da  libertação, para nos ajudar a romper os liames que nos mantém cativos ao  corpo carnal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Lembremo-nos  de que, durante a nossa estada na Terra, temos de desempenhar uma  missão de que não suspeitamos, quer dedicando-nos à família, quer  cumprindo outras obrigações que Deus nos confiou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;E se, no decorrer desse período, advierem as inquietações:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;As tribulações,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;Os dias amargos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;As noites sem estrelas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;Devemos manter-nos fortes e corajosos para os suportar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Nesses  dias difíceis, é importante que cerremos os olhos e voltemos nossos  sentimentos ao alto, numa oração sincera, buscando forças. E, ainda que  tudo pareça envolto em escura neblina, perceberemos os sons de uma  melodia distante, convidando-nos a dar alguns passos a mais… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;É a voz do suave Pastor que jamais nos deixa sós.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;É  a cantiga dos imortais, que superaram com bravura as refregas da vida  física, dizendo-nos que os momentos amargos duram pouco, e nos  conduzirão à companhia dos amigos por quem choramos e que, felizes por  ver-nos de novo entre eles, nos estenderão os braços, a fim de guiar-nos  a uma região inacessível às aflições da Terra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Todos os sofrimentos:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;Misérias,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;Decepções,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;Dores físicas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;Perda de seres amados,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;Encontram consolação na fé,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;•&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;Na confiança em Deus e nos demais ensinos do Cristo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sobre  aquele que, ao contrário, nada espera após esta existência, ou que  simplesmente duvida, as aflições caem com todo o peso e nenhuma  esperança lhe alivia a amargura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Foi isso que levou Jesus a dizer:&lt;br /&gt;Vinde a Mim todos vós que estais fatigados, que Eu vos aliviarei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Com base no cap. V, item 25 e no cap. VI, item 2 do livro&lt;br /&gt;O evangelho segundo o Espiritismo, de Allan Kardec.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Postado por Marianna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;http://blog.forumespirita.net/2011/08/15/uma-vaga-tristeza-2/?utm_source=feedburner&amp;amp;utm_medium=feed&amp;amp;utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogespiritaconduit+%28Blog+Esp&lt;a href="http://blog.forumespirita.net/2011/08/15/uma-vaga-tristeza-2/?utm_source=feedburner&amp;amp;utm_medium=feed&amp;amp;utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogespiritaconduit+%28Blog+Esp%C3%ADrita+conduit%29#"&gt;http://blog.forumespirita.net/2011/08/15/uma-vaga-tristeza-2/?utm_source=feedburner&amp;amp;utm_medium=feed&amp;amp;utm_campaign=Feed%3A+blogespiritaconduit+%28Blog+Esp%C3%ADrita+conduit%29#&lt;/a&gt;%C3%ADrita+conduit%29# &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5943980277183097550?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5943980277183097550/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5943980277183097550' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5943980277183097550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5943980277183097550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/08/voce-ja-percebeu-que-as-vezes-uma-vaga.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7937888646726356627</id><published>2011-08-23T12:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T12:26:28.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>O senhor que estava à porta do metro tinha fome e ninguém o ajudou... Porque é que nós somos assim?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7937888646726356627?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7937888646726356627/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7937888646726356627' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7937888646726356627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7937888646726356627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-senhor-que-estava-porta-do-metro.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1966429982972897695</id><published>2011-08-19T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T11:11:35.467-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='História de um velho arrumador de carros'/><title type='text'>História de um velho arrumador de carros</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Vou-lhe contar uma linda história que se passou em Lisboa muito  recentemente, irei tentar ser o mais fiel possível ao que se passou.&lt;br /&gt;(Baseada em fatos reais).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Era  uma vez um rapaz que ia na rua preocupado com a vida, quando de repente  olha para o chão e vê uma nota de 5 euros apanha-a e pensa: Já tenho  dinheiro para ir comer fora boa que grande sorte ter passado por aqui,  no entanto o rapaz olha em sua volta a tentar perceber se o observavam, e  nesse instante vê um velho a tentar arrumar os carros das pessoas que  passam na rua. O rapaz pensa, aquele senhor precisa mais do que eu,  vou-lhe dar o dinheiro, movido por um ato de inspiração e de vontade,  pois era um rapaz muito tímido e nunca tinha feito nada semelhante na  sua vida, o rapaz interpela o velho e fala com ele, dizendo-lhe o  seguinte: Boa tarde como vai está tudo bem? E o senhor diz-lhe tenho um  sobrinho meu que é deficiente e está no hospital a morrer. Com os olhos  lacrimejantes o rapaz pensa, acho que este senhor precisa é de  desabafar, em vez de escolher a solução mais fácil a de lhe dar o  dinheiro, perguntou-lhe o senhor tem fome? Ao que o velho respondeu  tenho sim, dirigiram-se então a um restaurante próximo, o rapaz  disse-lhe peça o que quiser e então ele lá escolheu um pão com chouriço e  começou a comer e a falar, o meu sobrinho está no hospital, eu gostava  de o ajudar mas não posso, vou visita-lo de vez enquando, mas choro  bastante quando lá vou porque nada posso fazer por ele, sou pobre e ele  precisa de uma operação urgente a um cancro que ele tem na próstata e se  ele não a fizer o mais brevemente possível morrerá é só uma questão de  tempo, eu e a minha família fizemos tudo para reunir o máximo de  dinheiro possível, mas ainda precisamos de mais 1000 Euros e podemos  realizar a operação é por isso que arrumo carros para ajudar o meu  querido sobrinho...O velho arrumador começou a divagar, e narrou a sua  vida: Eu tive uma vida dificil, tive muitos empregos passei  inclusivamente pelo exército, podia ter poupado muito, mas na altura  gastava tudo aquilo que ganhava com mulheres e em vinho, hoje tenho  muito pouco e sujeito-me a arrumar carros para sobreviver e para tentar  ajudar o meu sobrinho, sou um arrumador honesto, certa vez até cheguei a  guardar um mercedes de um homem de negócios, pois esqueceu-se das  portas destrancadas com coisas importantes lá dentro. Fiquei lá bastante  tempo à espera quando estava para desistir e ir embora, o dono chegou  ao carro&amp;nbsp; e vendo que eu estava perto do carro perguntou-me rudemente o  que é que o senhor está ai a fazer? Eu expliquei-lhe a situação e o  homem sensibilizado pela minha acção, deu-me 50 euros, como vê sou uma  pessoa honesta.&lt;br /&gt;O rapaz lá o ia aconselhando da melhor forma que  podia e que sabia, perguntou-lhe entretanto: Quer beber alguma coisa? O  velho responde: Não o queria incomodar mas se puder ser, gostaria sim,  uma tacinha de vinho por favor, as pessoas que ali estavam olhavam para  os dois com um olhar suspeito pois conheciam o velho arrumador e  olhavam-os com desconfiança pensando provavelmente o que estaria a fazer  um rapaz tão apresentável com um velho de tão mau aspeto. O homem  depois de contar a sua vida ao rapaz, despediu-se a dizer que tinha que  ir para casa, entretanto o rapaz pagou a despesa e diz tome estas moedas  Senhor (troco dos 5euros que achou na rua) que lhe fazem mais jeito a  si do que a mim e é o que tenho disponível para o ajudar, neste momento o  dono do restaurante que os servira e que ouvira também a história do  velho, comovido disse ao rapaz permitam-me que faça uma coisa para  ajudar o senhor, o rapaz logo lhe disse com certeza faça o que entender,  neste momento o dono do restaurante dirige-se às pessoas do restaurante  pareciam ser de bastantes posses, e diz-lhes o seguinte: Meus caros  clientes provavelmente terão ouvido a história deste velho arrumador de  carros que toda a gente conhece, mas nunca ninguém lhe dirigiu uma  palavra amiga até este jovem aparecer e nos dar a todos uma grande lição  de moral, o dono do restaurante voltou a repetir a história que o velho  tinha contado a toda a gente presente e disse finalmente este homem  merece que o ajudem pois o seu neto está a morrer no Hospital de cancro e  caso não reúna 1000 euros o mais brevemente possível o seu sobrinho com  certeza morrerá, aqui dentro deste cesto vou colocar 200 euros, conto  com a vossa colaboração e boa vontade. Os clientes sensibilizados e  muito deles a chorar com a história do velho, levantaram-se e cada um  depositava o que podia no cesto. No fim conseguiram o dinheiro que se  pretendia, o velho agradeceu a todos pessoalmente a chorar como uma  criança, depois de se despedir eloquentemente de todos especialmente do  dono do restaurante prometendo trazer o seu sobrinho ao restaurante  quando este tivesse melhor, dirigiram-se os dois para a saída e uma vez  lá fora, após o venerando senhor muito agradecer ao rapaz, os dois dão  um cumprimento de mão e em seguida um forte abraço. O rapaz após a  despedida do arrumador que acabava de conhecer, segue o seu caminho  feliz analisando aquele momento que para ele demorou eternamente e não  demorou mais do que uma hora e que passou a recordar como um dos  melhores dias da sua vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qual é que acham que é a moral desta História?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um abraço do Ricardo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: transparent; border: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1966429982972897695?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1966429982972897695/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1966429982972897695' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1966429982972897695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1966429982972897695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/08/historia-de-um-velho-arrumador-de.html' title='História de um velho arrumador de carros'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-239162254294260013</id><published>2011-08-19T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T09:43:40.110-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='altruismo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='história de vida'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; &lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: tahoma;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT" style="color: #1f497d; font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;Vou-te contar uma historia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: tahoma;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT" style="color: #1f497d; font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;Era  uma vez um rapaz que ia na rua preocupado com a vida, quando de repente  olha para o chão e vê uma nota de 5 euros apanha-a e pensa: Já tenho  dinheiro para ir comer fora boa que grande sorte ter passado por aqui,  no entanto o rapaz olha em sua volta a tentar perceber se o observavam, e  nesse instante vê um velho a tentar arrumar os carros das pessoas que  passam na rua.O rapaz pensa, aquele Senhor precisa mais do que eu,  vou-lhe dar o dinheiro, movido por um ato de inspiração e de vontade,  pois era um rapaz muito tímido e nunca tinha feito nada semelhante na  sua vida, o rapaz interpela o Velho e fala com ele, dizendo-lhe o  seguinte: Boa tarde como vai está tudo bem? E o senhor diz-lhe tenho um  sobrinho meu que é deficiente e está no hospital a morrer com os olhos  lacrimejantes, o rapaz pensa, acho que este senhor precisa é de  desabafar, em vez de escolher a solução mais fácil a de lhe dar o  dinheiro, perguntou-lhe o senhor tem fome? Ao que o velho respondeu  tenho sim, dirigiram-se então a um restaurante próximo, o &amp;nbsp;rapaz  disse-lhe peça o que quiser e então ele lá escolheu um pão com chouriço e  começou a comer e a falar, o meu sobrinho está no hospital, eu gostava  de o ajudar mas não posso vou visita-lo de vez enquando, mas choro  bastante quando lá vou porque nada posso fazer por ele, sou pobre, tive  uma vida dificil, tive muitos empregos passei inclusivamente pelo  exercito, podia ter poupado muito, mas na altura gastava tudo aquilo que  ganhava com mulheres e em vinho, hoje tenho muito pouco e sujeito-me a  arrumar carros para sobreviver, sou um arrumador honesto, certa vez até  cheguei a guardar um mercedes de um homem de negocios pois este se  esqueceu das portas abertas com coisas importantes lá dentro fiquei lá  bastante tempo à espera quando estava para desistir e ir embora, o dono  chegou ao carro &amp;nbsp;e vendo que &amp;nbsp;eu estava perto do carro perguntou-me  rudemente o que é que o senhor está ai a fazer? Eu expliquei-lhe a  situação e o homem sensibilizado pela minha acção, deu-me 50 euros, como  vê sou uma pessoa honesta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ecxMsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: tahoma;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT" style="color: #1f497d; font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;"&gt;O  rapaz lá o ia aconselhando da melhor forma que podia e que sabia,  perguntou-lhe quer beber alguma coisa? O velho responde não o queria  incomodar mas se puder ser gostaria sim, uma tacinha de vinho, as  pessoas que ali estavam olhavam para os dois com um olhar suspeito pois  conheciam o velho arrumador e olhavam-os com desconfiança pensando  provavelmente o que estaria a fazer um rapaz tão apresentável com um  velho de tão mau aspeto. O homem depois de contar a sua vida ao rapaz,  despediu-se a dizer que tinha que ir para casa, entretanto o rapaz pagou  a despesa, dirigiram-se os dois para a saída e uma vez lá fora, após o  venerando senhor agradecer ao rapaz, este lhe diz tome estas moedas  (troco dos 5euros que achou na rua) que lhe fazem mais jeito a si do que  a mim. O homem começa a chorar, os dois dão um cumprimento de mão e em  seguida um abraço. O rapaz após a despedida do arrumador que acabava de  conhecer, segue o seu caminho feliz analisando aquele momento, que  passou a recordar como um dos melhores da sua vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-239162254294260013?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/239162254294260013/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=239162254294260013' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/239162254294260013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/239162254294260013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/08/vou-te-contar-uma-historia-era-uma-vez.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-4012507773148345166</id><published>2011-08-18T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T14:12:43.455-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muito importante para os pais'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psicografia de Francisco C. Xavier.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='divorcio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='- Emmanuel -  Livro: Vida em Vida'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"&gt;Teus filhos frente ao divórcio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"&gt;Se  conflitos inquietantes te envenenam a alma, obstando-te a harmonia  conjugal, as leis da vida não te impedem a separação do companheiro ou  da companheira, com quem a convivência se te fez impraticável, embora,  com isso, estejas debitando ao futuro a solução de graves compromissos  em tua vida de espírito... Entretanto, pensa nos filhos. Almas queridas  que viajaram das estâncias do passado, pelas vias da reencarnação, &lt;br /&gt;desembarcaram no presente, através dos teus braços, suplicando-te auxílio e renovação. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem  são eles? Habitualmente, são aqueles mesmos companheiros de alegria e  sofrimento, culpa e resgate, nas existências passadas, em cujo clima  resvalaste em problemas difíceis de resolver. Ontem, associados de  trabalho e ideal, são hoje os continuadores de tua ação ou intérpretes  de tuas obras.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"&gt;Quase  sempre, renascemos na Terra à maneira das vergônteas de uma raiz, e, em  nosso caso, a raiz é o conjunto de débitos e aspirações em que se nos  desdobram os dias terrestres, objetivando nossa ascensão espiritual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os  filhos não te pedem apenas dinheiro ou reconforto no plano físico.  Solicitam-te igualmente assistência e rumo, apoio e orientação. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se  te uniste com alguém no tálamo doméstico, semelhante comunhão encerra  também todos aqueles que acolhes na condição de herdeiros do teu nome, a  te rogarem proteção e entendimento, a fim de que não lhes faleçam o dom  de servir e a alegria de viver. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"&gt;Em  verdade, repetimos, as leis da vida não te impedem o divórcio, porque  situações calamitosas existem no mundo nas quais a alma encarnada se vê  sob a ameaça de naufrágio nas pesadas correntes do suicídio ou da  criminalidade e o Senhor não faz a apologia da violência. Apesar disso,  considera a extensão dos teus compromissos, porquanto não te reunirias  com alguém no âmago do recinto caseiro para a criação da família ou para  a sustentação de tarefas específicas, sem razões justas nos princípios &lt;br /&gt;de causa e efeito, evolução e aperfeiçoamento. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sejam,  pois, quais forem as circunstâncias constrangedoras que te afligem o  lar, reflete, acima de tudo, em teus filhos, que precisam de ti. A tua  união inclui particularmente cada um deles; e eles, que necessitam hoje  de tua bênção, se buscas esquecer-te a fim de abençoá-los, amanhã também  te abençoarão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="" class="bbc_img" src="http://www.ger.org.br/mensagens2005_files/somedayani.gif" /&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"&gt;- Emmanuel -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Livro: Vida em Vida, psicografia de Francisco C. Xavier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: transparent; border: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clique aqui para ler mais:  &lt;a href="http://www.forumespirita.net/fe/meditacao-diaria/teus-filhos-frente-ao-divorcio/#ixzz1VPvSmqK7" style="color: #003399;"&gt;http://www.forumespirita.net/fe/meditacao-diaria/teus-filhos-frente-ao-divorcio/#ixzz1VPvSmqK7&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-4012507773148345166?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/4012507773148345166/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=4012507773148345166' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4012507773148345166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4012507773148345166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/08/teus-filhos-frente-ao-divorcio.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3965986481470060839</id><published>2011-06-01T16:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T17:00:21.360-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='youtube video download'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='youtube para video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='youtube para mp3'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='youtube mp3'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='youtube to mp3'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Olá amigos, segundo a velha máxima "Dê a um homem um peixe, ele comerá por um dia. Ensine um homem a pescar, ele vai comer para a vida" e assim todos vão ter conhecimento. &lt;br /&gt;Caso os moderadores me permitam dar esta explicação no fórum vou tomar a liberdade de tentar ajudar com o pouco que sei.&lt;br /&gt;Vou então tentar explicar sucintamente quais os procedimentos para fazer estas conversões do youtube para vídeo ou para mp3, que posteriormente pode guardar no seu computador ou pen drive sem ser necessário estar conectado à Internet é realmente bastante fácil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1ºpasso- Retirar o link do vídeo que desejar do youtube, depois é necessário acessar ao seguinte site &lt;a href="http://www.getvideomp3.com/"&gt;http://www.getvideomp3.com/&lt;/a&gt;, colocar o link do vídeo que quer converter no espaço em branco clicar em download now, e selecione a qualidade desejada depois é só gravar no seu pc, note que para poder ver o vídeo é imprescindível baixar o Download free FLV player (PC) que está situado na parte inferior do website, onde pode descarrega-lo gratuitamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2ºpasso- para fazer Download de um vídeo do youtube e converte-lo em mp3, siga os procedimentos referidos acima. Retire o link que desejar do youtube, clique neste endereço &lt;a href="http://www.getvideomp3.com/youtubetomp3/"&gt;http://www.getvideomp3.com/youtubetomp3/&lt;/a&gt;, cole o seu link no espaço em branco,clique Download Now, escolha a qualidade desejada e finalmente grave o mp3 no seu computador depois é só esperar até ele terminar de baixar.&lt;br /&gt;Espero que tenha ajudado a Internet é realmente uma fonte de informação imensa é necessário como tudo na vida filtrar e aprender a tirar as coisas boas e deixar de lado as coisas que não interessam, de qualquer forma eu vou continuar postando novas palestras para download se assim o desejarem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ricardo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3965986481470060839?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3965986481470060839/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3965986481470060839' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3965986481470060839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3965986481470060839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/06/ola-amigos-segundo-velha-maxima-de-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8120397514720308071</id><published>2011-05-23T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T14:12:15.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Pedido de uma criança a seus Pais”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não tenham medo de ser firmes comigo. Prefiro assim.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Isto faz com que me sinta mais segura.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Não me estraguem. Sei que não devo ter tudo que quero. Só estou a experimentar-vos. &lt;br /&gt;Não deixem que eu adquira maus hábitos. &lt;br /&gt;Não me corrijam com raiva, nem na presença de estranhos. Aprenderei muito mais se falarem com calma e em particular.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Não me protejam da consequência de meus erros. &lt;br /&gt;Não levem muito a sério minhas pequenas dores. Necessito delas para obter a atenção que desejo. &lt;br /&gt;Não sejam irritantes quando me corrigem. Se assim fizerem, poderei fazer o contrário do que me pedem.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Não me façam promessas que não poderão cumprir depois. &lt;br /&gt;Lembrem-se que isto me deixará profundamente desapontada! &lt;br /&gt;Não ponham à prova minha honestidade. Sou facilmente tentado a dizer mentiras. &lt;br /&gt;Não me mostrem um Deus carrancudo e vingativo. Isso afastar-me-á dele.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Não desconversem quando faço perguntas, senão eu procurarei nas ruas as respostas que não obtiver em casa! &lt;br /&gt;Não se mostrem para mim como pessoas perfeitas e infalíveis. Ficarei extremamente chocado quando descobrir algum erro Vosso. &lt;br /&gt;Não  digam que meus temores são tontos, mas, sim, ajudem-me a  compreendê-los. Não digam que não me conseguem controlar. Eu julgarei  que sou mais forte que vocês!. &lt;br /&gt;Não me tratem como uma pessoa sem personalidade. Lembrem-se que tenho o meu próprio modo de ser. &lt;br /&gt;Não vivam a&amp;nbsp; apontar os defeitos das pessoas que me rodeiam. Isto criará em mim desde cedo um espírito intolerante. &lt;br /&gt;Não se esqueçam que gosto de experimentar as coisas por mim mesma. Não queiram ensinar-me tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Não  desistam de me ensinar o bem, mesmo que pareça que não estou a  aprender. No futuro, vocês verão em mim o fruto que plantaram!!!!!!  -AMEM-ME,&amp;nbsp; eu AMO-VOS….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8120397514720308071?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8120397514720308071/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8120397514720308071' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8120397514720308071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8120397514720308071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/05/pedido-de-uma-crianca-seus-pais-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5403778625733557376</id><published>2011-05-23T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T11:39:07.776-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheap bottles of wine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Script - For The First Time Lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='script'/><title type='text'>The Script - For The First Time Lyrics</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;he's all laid up in bed with a broken heart&lt;br /&gt;While i'm drinking jack all alone in my local bar&lt;br /&gt;And we don't know how we got into this mad situation&lt;br /&gt;Only doing things out of frustration&lt;br /&gt;Trying to make it work but man these times are hard&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Drinking old cheap bottles of wine&lt;br /&gt;Saying things we haven't for a while, a while yeah&lt;br /&gt;We're smiling but we're close to tears&lt;br /&gt;Even after all these years&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h2YgrTy48tg/TdqpxHro7DI/AAAAAAAAAUc/RsN5G77qK40/s1600/girl-crying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h2YgrTy48tg/TdqpxHro7DI/AAAAAAAAAUc/RsN5G77qK40/s320/girl-crying.jpg" width="257" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;We just now got the feeling that we're meeting&lt;br /&gt;For the first timeFor the first time&lt;br /&gt;Oh, for the first time&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, for the first time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5403778625733557376?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5403778625733557376/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5403778625733557376' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5403778625733557376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5403778625733557376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/05/script-for-first-time-lyrics.html' title='The Script - For The First Time Lyrics'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h2YgrTy48tg/TdqpxHro7DI/AAAAAAAAAUc/RsN5G77qK40/s72-c/girl-crying.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3230076334374420733</id><published>2011-05-20T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T05:56:17.846-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='all'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='star'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black all stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='converse all star'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='all stars'/><title type='text'>A caminhar num caminho trilhado por Deus...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zae52d3m_Qg/TdbiNF-dzmI/AAAAAAAAAUY/EEE6GwPGzIg/s1600/woman%252Call%252Cstars%252Cconverse%252Chere%252Cthere%252Cphotography%252Crain-2cbd7ef55b4ecee27ae076960fdc6461_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zae52d3m_Qg/TdbiNF-dzmI/AAAAAAAAAUY/EEE6GwPGzIg/s320/woman%252Call%252Cstars%252Cconverse%252Chere%252Cthere%252Cphotography%252Crain-2cbd7ef55b4ecee27ae076960fdc6461_h.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3230076334374420733?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3230076334374420733/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3230076334374420733' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3230076334374420733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3230076334374420733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/05/caminhar-num-caminho-trilhado-por-deus.html' title='A caminhar num caminho trilhado por Deus...'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zae52d3m_Qg/TdbiNF-dzmI/AAAAAAAAAUY/EEE6GwPGzIg/s72-c/woman%252Call%252Cstars%252Cconverse%252Chere%252Cthere%252Cphotography%252Crain-2cbd7ef55b4ecee27ae076960fdc6461_h.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5129391883823758961</id><published>2011-03-28T12:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T14:40:43.476-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O essencial é invisível aos olhos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='principezinho'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='felicidade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exupéry'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0R9TZTG-h34/TCHqodEjYnI/AAAAAAAAAgI/V2AIhx6ssxU/s1600/petitprince.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0R9TZTG-h34/TCHqodEjYnI/AAAAAAAAAgI/V2AIhx6ssxU/s320/petitprince.jpg" width="304" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Desde há algum tempo pensava como é que algumas pessoas diziam que se sentiam extremamente felizes quando vêem uma paisagem bonita, um pôr do sol, quando contemplam uma simples flor... Nunca percebi porquê, como é que essas pessoas se sentiam realizadas por tão pouco.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas desde há algum tempo atrás, eu próprio comecei a ver as coisas de maneira diferente, cada vez que olho para horizonte, para as nuvens, para as estrelas para as árvores, para a chuva a cair, como é que eu me posso sentir triste com tanta beleza no mundo?. Se soubermos procurar em coisas pequenas&amp;nbsp; um sorriso, sentimo-nos felizes e ganhamos forças nos momentos em que a vida nos dá tristezas, este meus amigos é o primeiro passo para uma vida feliz, contemplando e dando graças por Deus nos ter dado um planeta tão bonito para vivermos, pois a felicidade está nas pequenas coisas e não nas grandes como muita gente pensa. Um dia é composto por muitos e incontáveis instantes só temos que perder um pouco de tempo para os identificar e contemplar...Faz-me lembrar o livro, O Principezinho de Exupéry, fala de um menino que vivia num planeta: o Asteróide B612, há lá uma frase que diz: "O essencial é invisível aos olhos. Só se vê bem com o coração."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5129391883823758961?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5129391883823758961/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5129391883823758961' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5129391883823758961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5129391883823758961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/03/desde-ha-algum-tempo-pensava-como-e-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0R9TZTG-h34/TCHqodEjYnI/AAAAAAAAAgI/V2AIhx6ssxU/s72-c/petitprince.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1083567126528068616</id><published>2011-02-04T12:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T12:16:52.493-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1-16'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='senhor da vinha; últimos serão os primeiros'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mateus 20'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='biblía'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;    &lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #003366; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"&gt;Pois o reino dos céus é semelhante    a um homem, Senhor da Vinha, que saiu desde a madrugada para contratar    trabalhadores para sua vinha.&lt;br /&gt;E tendo contratado com os trabalhadores um denário por dia, enviou-os para    sua vinha.&lt;br /&gt;E tendo saído cerca da hora terceira, viu outros que estavam ociosos em pé    na praça,&lt;br /&gt;e disse-lhes: "Ide também vós também para a vinha, e vos darei o que    for justo". E eles foram.&lt;br /&gt;Novamente saiu cerca da hora sexta e da nona, e agiu da mesma forma.&lt;br /&gt;E saiu cerca da undécima hora, e achou outros que lá estavam, e disse-lhes:    "Por que estacionais aqui desocupados o dia todo?"&lt;br /&gt;Disseram-lhe: "Porque ninguém nos contratou". Disse-lhes :    "Ide vós também para a vinha".&lt;br /&gt;Chegando a tarde, disse o dono da vinha a seu capataz: "Chama os    trabalhadores e paga-lhes o salário, começa pelos últimos até os    primeiros".&lt;br /&gt;E chegando os da undécima hora, receberam um denário cada um.&lt;br /&gt;E vindo os primeiros, julgaram que receberiam mais, mas receberam um denário    também eles.&lt;br /&gt;E ao receber, murmuraram contra o Senhor da Vinha, dizendo:&lt;br /&gt;esses, os últimos, trabalharam uma hora e tu os trataste como a nós,    sofredores do peso do dia e do calor.&lt;br /&gt;Respondendo, ele disse a um deles: "Companheiro, não te faço injustiça;    não contrataste comigo um denário?&lt;br /&gt;Toma o que é teu, e retira-te; eu quero dar a este último tanto quanto a ti;&lt;br /&gt;ou não me é lícito fazer dos meus bens o que quero? Ou teu olho é mau,    porque eu sou bom?&lt;br /&gt;Assim os últimos serão primeiros e os primeiros, últimos."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #003366; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;  Mateus 20, 1-16&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1083567126528068616?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1083567126528068616/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1083567126528068616' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1083567126528068616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1083567126528068616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2011/02/pois-o-reino-dos-ceus-e-semelhante-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3690190943740856454</id><published>2010-12-21T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T07:25:39.058-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='filho pródigo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parábolas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='filho prodigo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parabolas'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; line-height: 100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Um certo homem tinha dois filhos; E o mais moço deles disse ao pai:  Pai, dá-me a parte da fazenda que me pertence. E ele repartiu por eles a  fazenda. E, poucos dias depois, o filho mais novo, ajuntando tudo,  partiu para uma terra longínqua e ali desperdiçou a sua fazenda, vivendo  dissolutamente. E, havendo ele gastado tudo, houve naquela terra uma  grande fome, e começou a padecer necessidades. E foi, e chegou-se a um  dos cidadãos daquela terra, o qual o mandou para os seus campos a  apascentar porcos. E desejava encher o seu estômago com as bolotas que  os porcos comiam, e ninguém lhe dava nada. E, tornando em si, disse:  Quantos jornaleiros de meu pai tem abundância de pão, e eu aqui pereço  de fome! Levantar-me-ei, e irei Ter com meu pai, e dir-lhe-ei: Pai,  pequei contra o céu e perante ti; Já não sou digno de ser chamado de teu  filho; fazei-me como um dos teus jornaleiros. E, levantando-se, foi  para seu pai; e quando ainda estava longe, viu-o seu pai, e se moveu de  íntima compaixão, e, correndo, lançou-se-lhe ao pescoço e o beijou. E o  filho lhe disse: Pai, pequei contra o céu e perante ti, e já não sou  digno de ser chamado teu filho. Mas o pai disse aos seus servos: Trazei  depressa o melhor vestido, e vesti-lho, e ponde-lhe um anel na mão e  alparcas nos pés; E trazei o bezerro cevado, e matai-o; e comamos e  alegremo-nos; Porque este meu filho estava morto e reviveu, tinha-se  perdido e foi achado. E começaram a alegrar-se"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; line-height: 100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; (Lc 15:11-24).&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3690190943740856454?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3690190943740856454/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3690190943740856454' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3690190943740856454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3690190943740856454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/12/um-certo-homem-tinha-dois-filhos-e-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-6599216999251213902</id><published>2010-11-20T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T08:07:19.093-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='avós'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GDFoh1lEWfw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GDFoh1lEWfw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que saudades&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-6599216999251213902?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/6599216999251213902/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=6599216999251213902' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6599216999251213902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6599216999251213902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/11/que-saudades.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-6657590189117951409</id><published>2010-10-04T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T06:55:26.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;Obrigado por tudo meus amigos vçês sabem quem são=)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-6657590189117951409?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/6657590189117951409/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=6657590189117951409' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6657590189117951409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6657590189117951409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/10/obrigado-por-tudo-meus-amigos-vces.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1663557148631213400</id><published>2010-10-04T04:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T04:48:52.229-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natureza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zacarias'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coração'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religião'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fé em Deus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='webmaster'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ONDE ESTÁ DEUS?&lt;br /&gt;- Onde está Deus? Pergunta o cientista,&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém O viu jamais. Quem Ele é?&lt;br /&gt;Responde às pressas, o materialista:&lt;br /&gt;- Deus é somente uma invenção da fé!&lt;br /&gt;O pensador dirá, sensatamente:&lt;br /&gt;- Não vejo Deus, mas sinto que Ele existe!&lt;br /&gt;A natureza mostra claramente&lt;br /&gt;Em que o poder do Criador consiste.&lt;br /&gt;Mas o poeta dirá, com segurança&lt;br /&gt;De quem afirma porque tem certeza:&lt;br /&gt;- Eu vejo Deus no riso da criança,&lt;br /&gt;No céu, no mar, na luz da natureza!&lt;br /&gt;Contemplo Deus brilhando nas estrelas&lt;br /&gt;No olhar das mães fitando os filhos seus,&lt;br /&gt;Nas noites de luar claras e belas,&lt;br /&gt;Que em tudo pulsa o coração de Deus!&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo Deus nas flores e nos prados,&lt;br /&gt;Nos astros a rolar pelo Infinito,&lt;br /&gt;Escuto Deus na voz dos namorados,&lt;br /&gt;E sinto Deus na lágrima do aflito!&lt;br /&gt;Percebo Deus na frase que perdoa,&lt;br /&gt;Contemplo Deus na mão que acaricia&lt;br /&gt;Escuto Deus na criatura boa&lt;br /&gt;E sinto Deus na paz e na alegria!&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo Deus no médico salvando,&lt;br /&gt;Pressinto Deus na dor que nos irmana.&lt;br /&gt;Descubro Deus no sábio procurando&lt;br /&gt;Compreender a natureza humana!&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo Deus no gesto da bondade,&lt;br /&gt;Escuto Deus nos cânticos do crente.&lt;br /&gt;Percebo Deus no sol, na liberdade&lt;br /&gt;E vejo Deus na planta e na semente!&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo Deus, enfim, por toda parte.&lt;br /&gt;Que tudo fala dos poderes seus,&lt;br /&gt;Descubro Deus nas expressões da Arte,&lt;br /&gt;No amor dos homens também sinto Deus!&lt;br /&gt;Mas onde eu sinto Deus com mais beleza,&lt;br /&gt;Na sua mais sublime vibração,&lt;br /&gt;Não é no coração da natureza,&lt;br /&gt;É dentro do meu próprio coração. (5)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1663557148631213400?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1663557148631213400/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1663557148631213400' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1663557148631213400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1663557148631213400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/10/onde-esta-deus-onde-esta-deus-pergunta.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-4254157196241432967</id><published>2010-10-04T03:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T03:48:18.347-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='will be ok'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I feel so cold, such a cosy warm cold...going to sleep now and everything will be ok&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-4254157196241432967?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/4254157196241432967/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=4254157196241432967' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4254157196241432967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4254157196241432967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-feel-so-cold-such-cosy-warm-cold.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2595968671615714953</id><published>2010-09-12T07:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T13:18:31.979-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lewis Carroll -Alice no País das Maravilhas'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/TI6HDLWQ6tI/AAAAAAAAAUI/HQneheEL4Hk/s1600/8331alice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/TI6HDLWQ6tI/AAAAAAAAAUI/HQneheEL4Hk/s320/8331alice.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;”-Podes dizer-me, por favor, que caminho devo seguir para sair daqui?  -Isso depende muito de para onde queres ir - respondeu o gato.  -Preocupa-me pouco aonde ir - disse Alice. -Nesse caso, pouco importa o  caminho que sigas - replicou o gato.” (Lewis Carroll -Alice no País das  Maravilhas)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2595968671615714953?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2595968671615714953/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2595968671615714953' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2595968671615714953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2595968671615714953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/09/podes-dizer-me-por-favor-que-caminho.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/TI6HDLWQ6tI/AAAAAAAAAUI/HQneheEL4Hk/s72-c/8331alice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1680929299056574803</id><published>2010-09-11T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T13:25:37.865-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='educação'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anjos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='estrutura cerebral'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crianças Indigo; crianças; adultos indigo; Crianças Cristal'/><title type='text'>Crianças Indigo</title><content type='html'>&lt;table border="0" cellspacing="9"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="75%"&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Perguntas Frequentes (FAQ)&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/td&gt;            &lt;td nowrap="nowrap" valign="top" width="300"&gt;     &lt;div class="addthis_toolbox addthis_32x32_style addthis_default_style"&gt;  &lt;a class="addthis_button_facebook at300b" href="http://www.addthis.com/bookmark.php?v=250&amp;amp;winname=addthis&amp;amp;pub=caban&amp;amp;source=tbx32-250&amp;amp;lng=pt-PT&amp;amp;s=facebook&amp;amp;url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.casa-indigo.com%2Ffaq.asp&amp;amp;title=Casa%20%C3%8Dndigo%3A%20Perguntas%20Frequentes%20%28FAQ%29&amp;amp;ate=AT-caban/-/pz-2/4c8bdb9be687b329/1&amp;amp;CXNID=2000001.5215456080540439074NXC&amp;amp;pre=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.pt%2Fsearch%3Fq%3Dindigo%2Bcrian%25C3%25A7as%26ie%3Dutf-8%26oe%3Dutf-8%26aq%3Dt%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla%3Apt-PT%3Aofficial%26client%3Dfirefox-a&amp;amp;tt=0" target="_blank" title="Send to Facebook"&gt;&lt;span class="at300bs at15t_facebook"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 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     &lt;a class="addthis_button_compact at300m" href=""&gt;&lt;span class="at300bs at15t_compact"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;            &lt;td colspan="2" valign="top"&gt;              &lt;h5&gt;     &lt;img border="0" height="1" src="http://www.casa-indigo.com/images/white_590.gif" width="520" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As perguntas e respostas que seguem são extraídas do livro      &lt;a href="http://store.casa-indigo.com/store/viewItem.asp?idProduct=1" title=" Crianças Índigo e Cristal "&gt;     Crianças Índigo e Cristal&lt;/a&gt; de      &lt;a href="http://www.casa-indigo.com/colaboradores/tereza_guerra.asp" title=" Tereza Guerra "&gt;     Tereza Guerra&lt;/a&gt;, onde encontrará toda a informação que      necessita para responder a todas as suas questões.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.casa-indigo.com/faq.asp#1" name="1" title=" Abrir ~  Fechar "&gt;O que é uma criança Índigo?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="list-style-type: none; margin-left: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;As crianças índigo possuem uma estrutura cerebral capaz de      utilizarem simultaneamente as potencialidades do hemisfério      direito e do hemisfério esquerdo, isso significa que elas      conseguem ir muito mais além do plano racional e intelectual,      desenvolvendo capacidades espaciais, intuitivas, criativas e      espirituais, por isso elas necessitam também de um ambiente      propício para poderem desenvolver todas as suas potencialidades      ajudando-nos num futuro próximo a mudar muita coisa que precisa      ser mudada no mundo em que vivemos, nomeadamente a diminuir a      distância existente entre o pensar e o agir.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;O “fenómeno Índigo” nasceu a partir da cor índigo que aparece      associada à mente (chacra frontal) e à espiritualidade (aura de      cor índigo). Segundo alguns autores, as crianças índigo estão      envolvidas por uma aura azul-índigo! Nancy Ann Tappe, nos anos      80 observou que inúmeras crianças apresentavam esse tipo de aura      e tinham características algo semelhantes. Na última década dos      anos 90, dois autores norte-americanos Lee Caroll e J. Tober      publicaram o primeiro livro sobre “As Crianças Índigo”.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;A partir de então muito se tem falado destas crianças que cada      vez em maior número (neste momento 90 % das crianças que nascem      já trazem características Índigo, Cristal, Violeta ou outras…)      estão a invadir o nosso planeta e apresentam as seguintes      características: Inteligentes, sensitivas, intuitivas, com      tendência hiperactiva, perceptivas, compreendem facilmente as      leis universais, são muito criativas e possuem uma memória      privilegiada (por vezes falam de vidas passadas com toda a      naturalidade) e são dotadas, como referem alguns autores, de uma      espécie de “inteligência espiritual”. Quando o assunto não lhes      interessa podem apresentar características de défice de atenção,      mas se, pelo contrário, algum tema lhes desperta a atenção,      entregam-se apaixonadamente e passam horas atentas e envolvidas      em novas descobertas.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;Vários autores referem que podem distinguir-se 4 tipos de      crianças índigo: as humanistas (líderes), as conceptuais      (cognitivas ou intelectuais), as artistas (portadoras grande        sensibilidade e intuição) e as interdimensionais       (globalmente sobredotadas mas com potencialidades       espirituais invulgares).&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.casa-indigo.com/faq.asp#2" name="2" title=" Abrir ~  Fechar "&gt;Que características apresentam as Crianças Índigo e as Crianças Cristal?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="list-style-type: none; margin-left: 6px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;       &lt;table border="2" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" id="table2" style="border-collapse: collapse;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;         &lt;b&gt;Crianças Índigo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;         &lt;b&gt;Crianças Cristal&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;         &lt;b&gt;Espírito Guerreiro&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que rompe com os sistemas estabelecidos&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;         &lt;b&gt;Espírito Pacificador&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pacificadores&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;         Meta:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;          Abrir caminhos&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;          Denunciar&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;          Não aceitam o que já não serve agora&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;          Aversão à mentira, falsidade e manipulação&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;         Meta:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;          Continuar o caminho começado pela geração           índigo&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;          Construir com energias mais subtis&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;          Têm uma força interior extraordinária para           conseguirem elevar o nível de frequência           energético da sociedade&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Especialidade:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Denunciar&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Provar os limites físicos&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Especialidade:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Liberdade através do exemplo&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Provar os limites psíquicos&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Personalidade:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Em geral são extrovertidos&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Pioneiros são originais,           auto-suficientes, criativos, bastante           autónomos&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Determinação, tenacidade&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Muita energia e não mostram medo em           enfrentar as coisas e as pessoas&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Personalidade:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Mais calmos, pacíficos e gentis. No           geral um pouco introvertidos&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Ainda mais espirituais&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Ainda mais telepáticos&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Ainda mais sensíveis&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Formas de conduta:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;São crianças exigentes q não se cansam           de pedir coisas&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Não tem medo da confrontação&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Rebelde&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Formas de conduta:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Diz o que precisa em poucas palavras mas           com profundidade, e só quando lhe pedem&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Irradia paz e tranquilidade&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Harmoniza naturalmente a energia que o           rodeia&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;É muito afectuoso com as pessoas e           percebe as suas necessidades&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5&gt;Cala-se e retira-se se há conflitos,           evita as confrontações&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Características físicas e outras&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Robustos fisicamente&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Fortes mentalmente&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Características físicas e outras&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Menos robusto física e mentalmente&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Vulnerável emocionalmente&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Habilidades psíquicas activadas desde o           seu nascimento&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Por vezes sofre com alergias, é mais           delicado&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Podem diagnosticar-lhes erradamente:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;          &lt;b&gt;ADD&lt;/b&gt; (Défice de Atenção)&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;          &lt;b&gt;ADDH&lt;/b&gt; (Défice de atenção com           hiperactividade)&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Podem diagnosticar-lhes erradamente:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;A doença de Aspergers uma forma ligeira           de autismo comum na profissão de           programadores, informáticos e engenheiros de           sistemas&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Autismo&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Ser considerado uma criança           desconectada, desligada&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5&gt;É precoce em começar a falar&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5&gt;Pode ser que comece a falar tardiamente em          geral quando começam a entender que os adultos          não entendem a linguagem telepática&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Necessidades em geral:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Alimentar os seus talentos de pioneiros           e de lideres&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Ferramentas de organização do trabalho&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Aprender a diplomacia e a cortesia&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;         &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Necessidades em geral:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin: 6px 5px 6px 20px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Utilizar e nutrir as suas habilidades e           os seus talentos de pacificadores&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Técnicas de limpeza energética e           psíquica sensível&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;          &lt;h5 style="margin-bottom: 4px; margin-top: 1px;"&gt;Intercâmbio de energia com a natureza&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;        &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;       &lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.casa-indigo.com/faq.asp#3" name="3" title=" Abrir ~  Fechar "&gt;Desde quando começaram a aparecer no planeta?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="list-style-type: none; margin-left: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;li style="margin-left: 0pt;"&gt;       &lt;h5&gt;Não é a primeira vez que o planeta assiste à chegada de      consciências que trazem características diferentes do habitual      que põem em causa as culturas instaladas. Poderíamos enumerar      uma quantidade delas, que desde há muito, vêm surgindo aqui e      ali para nos abrirem um pouco a porta do conhecimento, na maior      parte das vezes, foram perseguidos, mal entendidos, na época em      que viveram, e até, alguns chegaram a ser mortos. Tudo isto só      porque apresentaram comportamentos diferentes e formas de pensar      que punham em causa as instituições e organizações políticas ou      religiosas vigentes. Temos, por exemplo: Pitágoras, Sócrates,      Platão, Aristóteles, Jesus Cristo, Leonardo da Vinci, Gandhi, Shweitzer, Einstein e muitos outros....Eles surgiam para      ajudarem a que a mudança fosse algo possível de acontecer e com      a sua coragem e determinação se abrissem caminhos novos e      diferentes. Graças a eles a humanidade foi dando os seus passos      no sentido de romper com velhas tradições de pensamento e        culturas.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.casa-indigo.com/faq.asp#4" name="4" title=" Abrir ~  Fechar "&gt;Como       identificar as Crianças Índigo?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="list-style-type: none; margin-left: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;       &lt;h5&gt;Propomos que façam um pequeno teste às vossas crianças para      poderem identificá-las, ou não, como crianças índigo. Este teste      (embora com algumas adaptações) é apresentado por Lee Carroll no      seu livro As Crianças Índigo.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-left: 21px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Trata-se de uma criança muito intuitiva (parece adivinhar as      coisas) e traz consigo, desde a nascença, uma certa realeza      comportando-se como tal?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Sentem que merecem estar aqui e admiram-se quando outros não      os reconhecem. Revelam-se bastante sensitivos (parecem observar,      ver, ouvir e detectar acontecimentos, objectos e situações      aparentemente impossíveis)?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;São muito sensíveis à música, à pintura, às paisagens      grandiosas e sublimes, ao belo?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Dizem, com naturalidade aos pais quem são e donde vêm e      alguma vez referiram ter falado com anjos, Deus, extraterrestres      ou outras entidades?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Preocupam-se muito com questões humanitárias, a fome, as      guerras, os problemas ambientais, com os animais abandonados ou      maltratados?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Gostam de ver programas sobre História, Religião e Arte na      TV ou na Internet?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Sentem-se frustrados com sistemas que obedecem a rituais e      sem criatividade, apresentam outras formas de fazerem as coisas,      tanto em casa como na escola, o que os torna rebeldes ou      simplesmente desinteressados?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Costumam desenhar figuras exóticas, seres extra-terrestres,      figuras estranhas?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Apreciam conversar sobre Deus, o princípio do Mundo, a Vida,      os OVNIS, etc?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Parecem ser anti-sociais, e, por vezes a escola é o local      onde lhes é muito difícil socializar. Apreciam a solidão. Gostam      de se fechar no quarto para ficar sozinhos?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Têm dificuldade em aceitar uma autoridade absoluta. Falam      ou escrevem sobre assuntos que parecem não ser para a sua idade      e formação? &lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;       &lt;h5&gt;Se respondeu SIM a mais de 4 perguntas...esteja mais atento ao      seu filho ou educando, porque poderá estar perante uma criança      índigo, por isso tente retirar dele mais informações, mas      proceda com carinho e amor verdadeiro, porque estas crianças,      devido à sua sensibilidade e capacidades extrasensoriais,      apercebem-se facilmente das suas intenções, sobretudo se estas      não foram para seu bem. Como sabem elas trazem consigo um      verdadeiro detector de mentiras e, intuitivamente, lêem os      pensamentos das pessoas com quem tratam.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.casa-indigo.com/faq.asp#5" name="5" title=" Abrir ~  Fechar "&gt;Qual a educação mais adequada para estas crianças e jovens?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="list-style-type: none; margin-left: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;       &lt;h5&gt;Em primeiro lugar é fundamental que exista para a criança uma só      escola e uma só educação. O complexo processo educativo, para      atingir os seus plenos objectivos deve fazer um compromisso com      todos os seus intervenientes que em conjunto devem-se envolver      em uníssono: pais, professores, alunos. Todos têm que ter      consciência de três verdades insofismáveis:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-left: 21px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;O potencial humano é muito superior àquilo que nos      convenceram. (Einstein desenvolveu, apenas, entre 5 e 10% das      capacidades do seu cérebro....)&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;A educação deve ser adquirida naturalmente e com prazer,      porque educar sem prazer é deseducar e é como um dia sem sol.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;A educação e a aprendizagem são o único motivo que nos trouxe      a este planeta, por isso, deve ser feita com esmero.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;       &lt;h5&gt;Um sistema de educação alternativo e muito conhecido é o da      pedagogia Waldorf que explica de uma forma harmoniosa a relação      existente entre o processo íntimo do desenvolvimento da criança      e do jovem e as modificações sofridas pelo homem em sua evolução      histórica, pois ajuda a criança a passar por um processo      evolutivo de crescimento, amadurecimento e consciencialização      progressivos até atingir a maturidade. Para isso promove um      acompanhamento adequado com respeito pela sua individualidade e      criatividade, para que floresça e desabroche livremente em todas      as suas vertentes.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.casa-indigo.com/faq.asp#6" name="6" title=" Abrir ~  Fechar "&gt;Existem no nosso país escolas adequadas a estas crianças?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="list-style-type: none; margin-left: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;       &lt;h5&gt;Existem muito poucas escolas com pedagogias        adequadas e preparadas para promoverem uma educação        adequada a estas e muitas outras crianças. &lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;       &lt;h5&gt;Em Portugal existem algumas poucas escolas com        pedagogia Waldorf mas encontram-se sem vagas. &lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;       &lt;h5&gt;Existe ainda uma Escola Montessori para crianças de        1 a 6 anos de idade, contacto 21 456 4733.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;      &lt;h5&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.casa-indigo.com/faq.asp#7" name="7" title=" Abrir ~  Fechar "&gt;Serás tu um Índigo adulto?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="list-style-type: none; margin-left: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;       &lt;h5&gt;Se quer saber se é um índigo adulto analise as afirmações que se      seguem:&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;ul style="margin-left: 21px;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;São muito criativos ainda que na escola não tenham tirado as      melhores notas.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Têm algumas características que fazem parte de crianças índigo.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Apresentam alguns problemas de concentração e atenção (Sintomas      de Desordem de falta de Atenção. Podem apresentar problemas para      se concentrarem nas suas tarefas. Podem saltar de tema nas      conversas (palestras, dissertações, etc.)&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Têm uma verdadeira empatia por algumas pessoas e sentem-se bem      com pessoas que tenham a sua vibração, mas têm, também, uma      profunda intolerância pela estupidez.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;São muito intuitivos, muito criativos e desfrutam fazendo      coisas, mesmo que espalhem tudo à sua volta como um caos,      sentem-se bem assim...mesmo que os outros reclamem da desordem.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;É difícil para eles fazerem um trabalho repetitivo e obrigatório      e sobretudo na escola recusavam-se a fazê-lo.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Vivem em constante mudança e têm, ainda hoje, problemas com a      autoridade. Rejeitam, muitas vezes, a autoridade do professor ou      mesmo dos pais quando procuravam impô-la. Questionaram-na e      continuam questionando a autoridade.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Aprendem rapidamente e quando acham que já sabem o suficiente      aborrecem-se e desinteressam-se pelos assuntos?&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Se uma coisa ou um tema lhes interessa põem aí toda a sua      atenção e não se importam de estar horas a fazer o mesmo.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Na escola parecia que tinham “picos” e não paravam quietos,      quando a matéria não lhes interessava, não lhe servia para nada      ou achavam que já sabiam o suficiente sobre o assunto.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Por vezes mostra ser extremamente sensíveis, ou emocionalmente      instáveis, chorando ao mínimo motivo (sem protecção). Ou podem      mostrar uma certa falta de emoção (protecção completa).&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Por vezes revoltam-se com certas coisas ou pessoas, parecendo      que têm problemas com a Ira.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Não compreendem e até se revoltam, ou irritam com os chamados      sistemas ineficazes que consideram caducos: sistema político,      educativo, médico, jurídico, etc.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Sentem uma verdadeira irritação e ira quando privam dos seus      direitos e detestam que os observem ou controlem os teus passos,      ficam irritados quando alguém está sempre a observá-los e a      criticá-los.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Procuram o significado da vida e sentem uma vontade grande de      mudar ou até melhorar o mundo aderindo, por vezes, à      espiritualidade, a alguma religião ou a grupos ou livros de      auto-ajuda.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Tiveram alguma experiência psíquica, premonições (ver anjos,      seres extrafísicos, fantasmas...) experiências fora do corpo,      ouvir ruídos ou vozes, etc.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;É sensível à electricidade e por vezes os relógios não      funcionam, as lâmpadas apagam-se quando passa por baixo deles,      os aparelhos eléctricos funcionam mal ou queimam-se fusíveis ou      rebentam lâmpadas...&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Já, alguma vez, tiveram consciência da existência de outras      dimensões, de extraterrestres ou da existência de outras      realidades paralelas.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;São muito expressivos sexualmente, mas também podem recusar a      sexualidade por aborrecimento ou para conseguirem uma ligação      espiritual mais elevada. Podem explorar tipos alternativos de      sexualidade.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Tiveram poucos ou nenhum exemplo índigo para imitar.&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;        &lt;h5&gt;Se conseguem encontrar o seu equilíbrio podem transformar-se em      indivíduos muito realizados, fortes, sãos e felizes.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1680929299056574803?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1680929299056574803/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1680929299056574803' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1680929299056574803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1680929299056574803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/09/criancas-indigo.html' title='Crianças Indigo'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1108296578691679165</id><published>2010-08-15T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T11:01:18.069-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Australian Songs; aussie; ozzie; australians;billabong'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h1 align="left"&gt;Australian Songs&amp;nbsp;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Like most cultures, Australians have their own set of songs which are special to their hearts. And like other cultures in which alcohol plays a large part, a lot of those songs do revolve around the amber nectar.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But for a sneak preview of a traditional song, click &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/images/wm.ra"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to bring a tear to your eye.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="268" src="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/images/song.jpg" width="271" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;More Beer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;       &lt;td align="center" width="100%"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/beers/coopers_pale_ale/coopers_original_pale_ale.htm" target="_self"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="350" src="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/images/more_beer_poster_large.jpg" width="259" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;     &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;       &lt;td align="center" width="100%"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;A         Coopers Advertisment&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;     &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is popular whenever hoards of drunken Australians get together.&amp;nbsp; It could be heard at the footy, on a pub crawl, at a barbie or even down at your local pub.&amp;nbsp; It's easy to remember and a &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/cark.htm"&gt;cack&lt;/a&gt; to sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;More beer, more beer, more beer, more beer&lt;br /&gt;More beer, more beer, more beer,&lt;br /&gt;More beer, more beer, more beer, more beer&lt;br /&gt;More beer, more beer, more beer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Australian was teaching this cracker to a Canadian in London, &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/canada.htm"&gt;Canada&lt;/a&gt; in 1998.&amp;nbsp; After hearing the first verse the Canadian shook his head in wonder before saying, "You know here we call it Auld lang syne".&amp;nbsp; Same tune, different words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Aussie Aussie Aussie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This little beauty is generally heard at sporting events. With any luck it will get some coverage in the Olympics in 2000 (UPDATE: indeed it did).&amp;nbsp; Generally one person takes over the very demanding &lt;i&gt;Aussie! &lt;/i&gt;role, with the rest of the crowd following with the &lt;i&gt;oy! oy! oy!&lt;/i&gt; People who claim we don't have a culture should go to a sporting crowd and start this and see if they respond.&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/bloodyoath.htm"&gt;Bloody oath&lt;/a&gt; they will.&amp;nbsp; Because they are Australians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Aussie! Aussie! Aussie!&lt;br /&gt;oy! oy! oy!&lt;br /&gt;Aussie!&lt;br /&gt;oy!&lt;br /&gt;Aussie!&lt;br /&gt;oy!&lt;br /&gt;Aussie! Aussie! Aussie!&lt;br /&gt;oy! oy! oy!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;The VB Song&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;You can get it jumpin'&lt;br /&gt;You can get it pumpin'&lt;br /&gt;You can get it pressin' a suit&lt;br /&gt;A hard earned thirst needs a big cold beer&lt;br /&gt;And the best cold beer's VIC&lt;br /&gt;A LONG COLD VIC&lt;br /&gt;You can get it liftin'&lt;br /&gt;You can get it shiftin'&lt;br /&gt;You can get it any old how&lt;br /&gt;Matter o' fact, I got it now&lt;o:p&gt; &amp;nbsp; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"&gt; &lt;span&gt;VIC BITTER!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fourex Song&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; Here's to Wally Lewis&lt;br /&gt;For lacing on a boot&lt;br /&gt;Some times he plays it rugged&lt;br /&gt;Some times he plays it cute&lt;br /&gt;When he's carving through the backline&lt;br /&gt;Like a stradbroke Island shark&lt;br /&gt;There's glue on all his fingers&lt;br /&gt;He's the emperor of Lang Park&lt;br /&gt;And when the blues come up here&lt;br /&gt;To try and make a show&lt;br /&gt;They'll go back scratching their heads&lt;br /&gt;Saying which way did he go?&lt;br /&gt;The next time he goes over there&lt;br /&gt;to educate the poms&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps he'll teach a few to sing:&lt;br /&gt;I can feel a fourex coming on&lt;br /&gt;I can feel a fourex coming on&lt;br /&gt;I can feel a fourex coming on.&lt;br /&gt;Got the taste for it&lt;br /&gt;Just can't wait for it&lt;br /&gt;I can feel a fourex coming on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Waltzing Matilda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is one version of the song that is closer to our collective national hearts than any other:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Once a jolly &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt;swagman&lt;/a&gt; camped by a &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/bilabong.htm"&gt;billabong&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;Under the shade of a coolibah tree,&lt;br /&gt;And he sang as he watched and waited till his &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/billy.htm"&gt; billy&lt;/a&gt;  boilled,&lt;br /&gt;Who'll come a &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt;waltzing matilda&lt;/a&gt; with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt;                                             Waltzing matilda Waltzing matilda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who'll come a &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt;waltzing matilda&lt;/a&gt; with me?&lt;br /&gt;And he sang as he watched and waited till his &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/billy.htm"&gt; billy&lt;/a&gt;  boilled,&lt;br /&gt;Who'll come a &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt;waltzing matilda&lt;/a&gt; with me?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;                                          Down came a &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/jumbuck.htm"&gt;jumbuck&lt;/a&gt; to drink at the billabong,&lt;br /&gt;Up jumped the &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt; swagman&lt;/a&gt; and grabbed him with glee,&lt;br /&gt;And he sang as he stowed that jumbuck in his &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/tucker.htm"&gt;tucker&lt;/a&gt;-bag,&lt;br /&gt;You'll come a &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt;waltzing matilda&lt;/a&gt; with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up came the squatter riding his thoroughbred,&lt;br /&gt;Up came the troopers - one, two and three,&lt;br /&gt;Whose is that &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/jumbuck.htm"&gt; jumbuck&lt;/a&gt; you've got in your &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/tucker.htm"&gt;tucker&lt;/a&gt; bag,&lt;br /&gt;You'll come a &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt;waltzing matilda&lt;/a&gt; with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt; swagman&lt;/a&gt; he up and he jumped in the billabong,&lt;br /&gt;Drowning himself by the coolibah tree,&lt;br /&gt;And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/bilabong.htm"&gt;billabong&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;You'll come a &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt;waltzing matilda&lt;/a&gt; with me.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No it is not our national anthem, despite what the rest of the world thinks. Although perhaps it should be. You only have to look at the number of links in the song to see how Australian it is.&amp;nbsp; Although sadly, a lot of Australians wouldn't even know what &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/swag.htm"&gt;waltzing matilda&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/i&gt;even means.&amp;nbsp; This doesn't mean that the song isn't special to them.&amp;nbsp; They just don't know why!&lt;br /&gt;There is actually a lot of history behind the song. It isn't just about some bloke who tops himself because he gets caught having &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/culture/flog.htm"&gt;flogged&lt;/a&gt; a sheep.&amp;nbsp; It is all about the political strife of the 1890s, and the shearer's strike at that time, and about the fine old Australian tradition of resisting authority. &lt;br /&gt;Click &lt;a href="http://www.australianbeers.com/wm.ra"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for a great instrumental from &lt;a href="http://www.waltzingmatilda.com/" target="_blank"&gt;www.waltzingmatilda.com&lt;/a&gt;. The site also has much more information on Australia's only folk song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1108296578691679165?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1108296578691679165/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1108296578691679165' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1108296578691679165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1108296578691679165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/08/australian-songs-like-most-cultures.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5097434922101033789</id><published>2010-07-14T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T12:33:56.557-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='concentração'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iluminado'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viagem espiritual'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exercicios de meditação'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exercicios de yoga'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='renascer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meditação'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mantra'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='download'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='terceiro olho'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sobrenatural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='respirar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iluminação'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meditation'/><title type='text'>MEDITATION IS THE KEY</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fotos.sapo.pt/fmZyhBTzRKFc0dZKdYAj/340x255" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://fotos.sapo.pt/fmZyhBTzRKFc0dZKdYAj/340x255" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;Aquietai-vos,  e sabei que sou Deus.&lt;br /&gt;- Salmo 46:10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table class="contentpaneopen"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="contentheading" width="100%"&gt;&lt;h1&gt;A Técnica Científica da MEDITAÇÃO&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td align="right" class="buttonheading" width="100%"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vopus.org/pt/index2.php?option=com_content&amp;amp;task=view&amp;amp;id=157&amp;amp;pop=1&amp;amp;page=0&amp;amp;Itemid=39" onclick="window.open('index2.php?option=com_content&amp;amp;task=view&amp;amp;id=157&amp;amp;pop=1&amp;amp;page=0&amp;amp;Itemid=39','win2','status=no,toolbar=no,scrollbars=yes,titlebar=no,menubar=no,resizable=yes,width=640,height=480,directories=no,location=no'); return false;" target="_blank" title="Imprimir"&gt;       &lt;img align="middle" alt="Imprimir" border="0" name="Imprimir" src="http://www.vopus.org/pt/templates/ja_pollux/images/printButton.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;     &lt;/td&gt;        &lt;td align="right" class="buttonheading" width="100%"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vopus.org/pt/index2.php?option=com_content&amp;amp;task=emailform&amp;amp;id=157&amp;amp;itemid=39" onclick="window.open('index2.php?option=com_content&amp;amp;task=emailform&amp;amp;id=157&amp;amp;itemid=39','win2','status=no,toolbar=no,scrollbars=yes,titlebar=no,menubar=no,resizable=yes,width=400,height=250,directories=no,location=no'); return false;" target="_blank" title="E-mail"&gt;      &lt;img align="middle" alt="E-mail" border="0" name="E-mail" src="http://www.vopus.org/pt/templates/ja_pollux/images/emailButton.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table class="contentpaneopen"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;     &lt;td align="left" colspan="2" valign="top" width="70%"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2" valign="top"&gt;Acima de tudo é  necessário aprender a viver de  instante em instante, saber aproveitar cada  momento, não dosar o  momento. A momentaneidade é característica especial dos  gnósticos. Nós  amamos a filosofia da &lt;i&gt;momentaneidade&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Em certa ocasião perguntaram ao Mestre Nansen:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;-¿O que é o TAO?&lt;br /&gt;-A vida Comum!&lt;br /&gt;-Como se faz para viver de acordo com ela? &lt;br /&gt;- Se tratas de viver de  acordo com ela, fugirá de ti. Não trates de  cantar esta canção, deixa que ela  mesma cante. Por acaso o humilde  soluço não vem por si só? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Recordai esta frase:&lt;i&gt; &lt;i&gt;"A Gnose se vive nos  fatos, murcha nas  abstrações, e é difícil de encontrar ainda nos  pensamentos mais nobres&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Perguntaram ao Mestre Bokujo: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Teremos o que vestir e  comer todos os dias?  Como poderíamos escapar de tudo isto? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;O Mestre respondeu:&lt;i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;- Comemos, nos vestimos... &lt;br /&gt;- Não compreendo &lt;/i&gt;- disse o discípulo.&lt;i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;- Então, vista-se e come &lt;/i&gt;- disse o Mestre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Esta é,  precisamente, a ação livre dos opostos. Comemos?  Vestimo-nos? Por que fazemos  disso um problema? Por que estar pensando  em outras coisas enquanto estamos  comendo ou nos vestindo? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se está comendo, come, e se está se vestindo, veste-se, e se está  andando pela  rua, anda, anda, anda, mas não pense em outra coisa, faz  unicamente o que está  fazendo, não fuja do que está fazendo, não fuja  dos fatos, não os encha de tantos  significados, símbolos, sermões e  advertências. Vive-os sem alegorias, vive-os  com &lt;b&gt;mente  receptiva&lt;/b&gt; de instante em instante. &lt;br /&gt;Esta tensão contínua  da &lt;b&gt;mente&lt;/b&gt;, esta disciplina  contínua, leva-nos ao despertar da consciência.  Se estamos comendo e  pensando em negócios, é claro que estamos sonhando. Se estamos   manejando um automóvel e pensando na namorada, é lógico que não estamos  despertos,  estamos sonhando. Se estamos trabalhando e estamos lembrando  do compadre ou da  comadre, do amigo ou do irmão, etc., é claro que  estamos sonhando.&lt;br /&gt;São terríveis o esforço e a  vigilância que se necessita de segundo  em segundo, de instante em instante,  para não cair em sonhos. Basta um  minuto de descuido e a mente já está sonhando  ao recordar-se de algo,  ao pensar em algo diferente do trabalho ou do fato que  estamos vivendo  no momento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2&gt;A TÉCNICA&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;img align="left" alt="A mente, A meditação" src="http://www.vopus.org/es/images/articles/la_t%C3%A9cnica_de_la_meditaci%C3%B3n_mente.jpg" style="margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px;" title="A mente, A meditação" /&gt;  Quando praticamos a  meditação, nossa mente é assaltada por muitas  lembranças, desejos, paixões,  preocupações, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devemos evitar o conflito entre a atenção e a distração. Existe  conflito entre  a distração e a atenção quando combatemos contra esses  assaltantes da mente. O  Eu é o projetor de tais assaltantes mentais.  Onde há conflito não existe  quietude nem silêncio. &lt;br /&gt;Devemos anular o projetor mediante a  auto-observação e a  compreensão. Examinem cada imagem, cada lembrança, cada  pensamento que  chegue à mente. Recordem que &lt;i&gt;todo  pensamento tem dois pólos&lt;/i&gt;:  positivo e negativo. &lt;br /&gt;Entrar e sair são dois aspectos de  uma mesma coisa. O refeitório e o  banheiro, o alto e o baixo, o agradável e o  desagradável, etc., são  sempre os dois pólos de uma mesma coisa.&lt;br /&gt;Examinem os dois  pólos da cada forma mental que chegua à mente.  Recordem que só mediante o estudo  das polaridades se chega à síntese. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toda forma mental pode ser eliminada mediante a síntese. &lt;br /&gt;Exemplo: Assalta-nos  a lembrança de uma namorada. É bela? Pensemos  que a beleza é o oposto da feiúra  e que, se em sua juventude é bela, em  sua velhice será feia. Síntese: Não vale  a pena pensar nela, é uma  ilusão, uma flor que se murcha inevitavelmente. Na  Índia, esta  auto-observação e estudo da nossa psique são chamados,  propriamente, &lt;i&gt;Pratyâhâra&lt;/i&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os pássaros-pensamentos devem passar pelo espaço da nossa própria  mente em  sucessivo desfile, mas sem deixar rastro algum. A infinita  procissão de  pensamentos projetados pelo Eu ao fim se esgota e, então, a  mente fica quieta e  em silêncio. &lt;br /&gt;Um grande Mestre  auto-realizado disse: «Somente quando o projetor,  isto é, o Eu, está ausente  por completo, então sobrevém o silêncio que  não é produto da mente. Este  silêncio é inesgotável, não é do tempo, é o  incomensurável, só então advém  aquilo que é». &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toda esta &lt;b&gt;técnica&lt;/b&gt; se resume em dois princípios: &lt;br /&gt;1. Profunda reflexão.&lt;br /&gt;2. Tremenda serenidade. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2&gt;«REFLEXÃO SERENA»&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;img align="right" alt="REFLEXÃO SERENA, iluminação" src="http://www.vopus.org/es/images/articles/la_t%C3%A9cnica_de_la_meditaci%C3%B3n_serenidad.jpg" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px;" title="REFLEXÃO SERENA, iluminação" /&gt;  Necessitamos &lt;b&gt;reflexão  serena&lt;/b&gt; se é que de verdade  queremos conseguir a quietude e o silêncio  absoluto da mente. &lt;br /&gt;Entretanto, resulta  claro compreender que no gnosticismo puro os  termos &lt;i&gt;serenidade&lt;/i&gt; e &lt;i&gt;reflexão&lt;/i&gt; têm  significados muito  mais profundos e, portanto, devem ser compreendidos dentro das  suas  conotações especiais. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O sentimento de &lt;i&gt;sereno&lt;/i&gt; transcende isso  que normalmente se  entende por calma ou tranquilidade, implica um estado superlativo  que  está além dos raciocínios, desejos, contradições e palavras, designa uma   situação fora do alvoroço mundano. &lt;br /&gt;Assim mesmo, o sentimento  de reflexão está além disso que sempre se  entende por contemplação de um  problema ou idéia. Não implica aqui  atividade mental ou pensamento  contemplativo, e sim uma espécie de  consciência objetiva, clara e transparente,  sempre iluminada em sua  própria experiência. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Portanto, &lt;i&gt;"sereno"&lt;/i&gt; é aqui  serenidade do não-pensamento, e &lt;i&gt;"reflexão"&lt;/i&gt;  significa consciência intensa e clara. "&lt;i&gt;Reflexão serena é a clara  consciência na tranqüilidade do  não-pensamento"&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;Quando reina a &lt;i&gt;serenidade perfeita&lt;/i&gt;, se consegue a   verdadeira &lt;b&gt;iluminação&lt;/b&gt; profunda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2&gt;PASSOS A SEGUIR&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;img align="left" alt="A mente, A meditação" src="http://www.vopus.org/es/images/articles/la_t%C3%A9cnica_de_la_meditaci%C3%B3n_reflexion.jpg" style="margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px;" title="A mente, A meditação" /&gt;  Vamos completar a &lt;b&gt;Técnica  da Meditação&lt;/b&gt; com os  passos que deverão se seguir e que o Mestre nos  entregou nas Dez Regras  da Meditação. A ordem não é exatamente igual e a única  coisa que  fizemos é adequar cada uma dessas regras uma ordem didática. &lt;br /&gt;Todo estudante sério que pretenda aprofundar no campo do  Autoconhecimento deve  valorizar e apreciar estas regras, praticando-as  com responsabilidade, pois é a  única forma de aprender a meditar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;PRIMEIRO PASSO:&lt;/h3&gt;Relaxamento absoluto  de todo o corpo. É imprescindível aprender a  relaxar o corpo para a Meditação,  nenhum músculo deve ficar em tensão. &lt;br /&gt;É imprescindível, necessário, praticar sempre com os olhos físicos  fechados a  fim de evitar as percepções sensoriais externas. É urgente  eliminar as  percepções sensoriais externas durante a meditação interior  profunda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;SEGUNDO PASSO:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Fazer-nos plenamente conscientes do estado de ânimo  em que nos encontramos antes que surja qualquer pensamento. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O princípio base, fundamento vivo do Shamadhi,  consiste em um prévio conhecimento introspectivo de si mesmo.  Introversão é indispensável durante a meditação a fundo. Devemos começar  por conhecer profundamente o estado de ânimo em que nos encontramos,  antes que apareça no intelecto qualquer forma mental. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Resulta urgente compreender que todo pensamento que  surge no entendimento é sempre precedido por dor ou prazer, alegria ou  tristeza, gosto ou desgosto, etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h3&gt;TERCEIRO PASSO:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Observação Serena. Observar serenamente nossa própria  mente, pôr atenção plena em toda forma mental que apareça na tela do  intelecto.&lt;i&gt;"Tratar de observar a mente sem interrupção"&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h3&gt;QUARTO PASSO:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mantralização ou Koan. O intelecto deve assumir um  estado psicológico receptivo, íntegro, unitotal, pleno, tranquilo e  profundo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Os objetivos da Mantralização ou Koan são: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;a) Mesclar dentro do nosso universo interior as forças mágicas dos  Mantrams ou Koans. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;b) Despertar consciência. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;c) Acumular intimamente átomos crísticos de altíssimo voltagem. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Com os Mantrams e com os Koans ou frases que  descontrolam a mente se consegue o estado receptivo unitotal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h3&gt;QUINTO PASSO: &lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Psicanálise. Examinar, indagar, pesquisar a raiz, a  origem, a causa, razão ou motivo fundamental de cada pensamento,  lembrança, afeto, emoção, sentimento, imagem, desejo, etc., conforme vão  surgindo na mente. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nesta etapa será necessária a sábia combinação da &lt;i&gt;meditação&lt;/i&gt;  com o &lt;i&gt;sono&lt;/i&gt;. É urgente provocar e graduar o sono à vontade. Da  sábia combinação de sono e meditação resulta isso que se chama &lt;b&gt;Iluminação&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Desta forma vai se aprofundando nos níveis ocultos da  mente, conhecendo os recursos íntimos dos nossos pensamentos,  sentimentos e ações.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h2&gt;RECOMENDAÇÕES ESSENCIAIS &lt;/h2&gt;&lt;img align="right" alt="A mente, A meditação" src="http://www.vopus.org/es/images/articles/la_t%C3%A9cnica_de_la_meditaci%C3%B3n_tenacidad.jpg" style="margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px;" title="A mente, A meditação" /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Deve existir &lt;i&gt;continuidade de propósitos&lt;/i&gt; na &lt;b&gt;técnica   da meditação&lt;/b&gt;, &lt;i&gt;tenacidade, firmeza,  constância,  insistência&lt;/i&gt;. As pessoas inconstantes, volúveis, versáteis,  mutáveis,  sem firmeza, sem vontade, jamais poderão conseguir o &lt;i&gt;Êxtase&lt;/i&gt;,  o &lt;i&gt;Satori&lt;/i&gt;, o &lt;i&gt;Shamadhi&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Resulta agradável,  interessante, assistir cada vez que se possa  às &lt;i&gt;salas de meditação&lt;/i&gt; (Lumisiais gnósticos). É óbvio que &lt;b&gt;a  técnica  da meditação&lt;/b&gt; científica pode ser praticada tanto de  forma individual e  isolada como em grupos de pessoas afins.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;h2&gt;REQUISITOS NA ATIVIDADE DIÁRIA &lt;/h2&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Devemos tratar de  recordar, rememorar, essa &lt;i&gt;"sensação  de  contemplar"&lt;/i&gt; de momento em momento durante o curso comum e corrente   da vida diária. Devemos nos converter em espiões da nossa própria  mente.  Contemplá-la em ação de instante em instante.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;É peremptório, urgente,  necessário, converter-nos em vigias da  nossa própria mente durante qualquer  atividade agitada, revolta,  deter-nos sequer por um instante para observá-la. A  Essência deve  liberar-se do corpo, dos afetos e da mente. Resulta evidente,  notório,  patente, que ao emancipar-se, ao liberar-se do intelecto, se libera de   todo o demais.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;table align="center"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="A Técnica Científica da MEDITAÇÃO" src="http://www.vopus.org/es/images/articles/la_t%C3%A9cnica_de_la_meditaci%C3%B3n_contemplation.jpg" style="margin: 0px;" title="A Técnica Científica da MEDITAÇÃO" /&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5097434922101033789?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5097434922101033789/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5097434922101033789' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5097434922101033789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5097434922101033789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/07/aquietai-vos-e-sabei-que-sou-deus.html' title='MEDITATION IS THE KEY'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8436502488097858755</id><published>2010-07-06T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T11:18:08.202-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tiriru'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='verao azul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='verano azul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='levitação azul'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="405" width="500"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/r-2cXdqBXnY&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1?border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/r-2cXdqBXnY&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1?border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tiru, tiru, tiriru&lt;br /&gt;tiru, tiru, tiriru&lt;br /&gt;tiru, tiru, tiriru...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ti  rorito tiro riro﻿ riro riii ro riiii&lt;br /&gt;ti rorito tiro riro riro riii  ro riiii&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tiru, tiru, tiriru&lt;br /&gt;tiru, tiru, tiriru&lt;br /&gt;tiru, tiru,  tiriru...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e esta hein?=)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8436502488097858755?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8436502488097858755/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8436502488097858755' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8436502488097858755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8436502488097858755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/07/tiru-tiru-tiriru-tiru-tiru-tiriru-tiru.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5083321624541542256</id><published>2010-06-26T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T14:07:53.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Como podem ver mudei o design do vosso Blog da Treta, espero que gostem, pois tudo o que faço por aqui é única e exclusivamente&amp;nbsp; a pensar em vós!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abraço do Ricardo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5083321624541542256?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5083321624541542256/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5083321624541542256' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5083321624541542256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5083321624541542256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/06/como-podem-ver-mudei-o-design-do-vosso.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-6429397453576117373</id><published>2010-06-26T13:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T13:54:03.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/MrW6zP161QI&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/MrW6zP161QI&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-6429397453576117373?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/6429397453576117373/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=6429397453576117373' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6429397453576117373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6429397453576117373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2690159947453654120</id><published>2010-06-26T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T14:13:36.126-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='E Depois do Adeus Paulo de Carvalho; sós; amor'/><title type='text'>E Depois do Adeus Paulo de Carvalho</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: blue; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: blue;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Quem me abandonou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De quem me esqueci&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Perguntei por mim&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quis saber de nós&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #e06666; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Em silêncio, amor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #e06666; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Em tristeza e fim&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu te sinto, em flor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu te sofro, em mim&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu te lembro, assim&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Partir é morrer&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #e06666; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tu viste em flor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #e06666; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu te desfolhei&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tu te deste em amor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu nada te dei&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Em teu corpo, amor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu adormeci&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Morri nele&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E ao morrer&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Renasci.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E depois do amor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E depois de nós&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O dizer adeus&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O ficarmos sós&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Teu lugar a mais&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tua ausência em mim&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tua paz&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que perdi&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Minha dor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que aprendi.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #e06666; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De novo vieste em flor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #e06666; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Te desfolhei...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E depois do amor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E depois de nós&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O adeus&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="color: #e06666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O ficarmos sós.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;sempre adorei esta musica aqui fica , pois recordar é viver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2690159947453654120?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2690159947453654120/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2690159947453654120' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2690159947453654120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2690159947453654120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/06/e-depois-do-adeus-paulo-de-carvalho.html' title='E Depois do Adeus Paulo de Carvalho'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8834339679577557819</id><published>2010-06-18T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T11:51:24.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RIP;saramago; Nobel; literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='morrer; 87; lITERATURA'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i50.tinypic.com/osydu8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://i50.tinypic.com/osydu8.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h2 style="text-align: center;"&gt;Morre aos 87 anos Saramago, Nobel da  Literatura em 1998&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;h2 style="text-align: center;"&gt;RIP &lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8834339679577557819?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8834339679577557819/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8834339679577557819' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8834339679577557819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8834339679577557819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/06/morre-aos-87-anos-saramago-nobel-da.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i50.tinypic.com/osydu8_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8807483767693040465</id><published>2010-06-18T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T11:18:32.759-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='And she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v170/leniarufino/geisha_stamp04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v170/leniarufino/geisha_stamp04.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;And she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8807483767693040465?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8807483767693040465/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8807483767693040465' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8807483767693040465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8807483767693040465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/06/httpl.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7689974014661533219</id><published>2010-06-10T01:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T01:02:19.094-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Benefícios do Vinho; copo de vinho por dia'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Benefícios do Vinho &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomar  um copo de vinho por dia pode prevenir doença do fígado&lt;br /&gt;18/06/2008 -  19h15 &lt;br /&gt;Efeito envolve tanto versão tinta quanto branca da bebida, de  acordo com especialistas.No entanto, doses mais altas de álcool, bem  como cerveja e destilados, não ajudam.&lt;br /&gt;Nicholas Bakalar Do New York  Times &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relatos recentes sugerem que o vinho tinto é  uma poderosa arma para aumentar a expectativa de vida, e um novo estudo  oferece notícias ainda melhores para os bebedores de vinho. Um copo por  dia, seja branco ou tinto, pode reduzir o risco de se desenvolver a  doença de fígado mais comum nos Estados Unidos, o fígado gordo  não-alcoólico. &lt;br /&gt;Pesquisadores estudaram 7.211 não-bebedores, e 3.598  pessoas que beberam um copo diário de vinho, cerveja ou bebida  destilada, testando-os em busca de níveis sanguíneos elevados e alanino  aminotransferase, ou ALT, uma taxa que indica os danos no fígado. Eles  descobriram níveis acima do normal em 3,2% dos não bebedores, em 3,5%  dos bebedores de cerveja e em 2,3% dos bebedores diários de destilados  fortes. &lt;br /&gt;Mas entre aqueles que beberam um copo de vinho por  dia, a taxa ficou na média de apenas 0,4%. Mesmo depois dos ajustes por  outros fatores de risco, a associação entre beber vinho modestamente e  os níveis mais baixos de ALT no sangue persistiram.  &lt;br /&gt;Os  autores, escrevendo na edição de junho da revista científica Hepatology,  sugerem que os componentes não-alcoólicos do vinho podem ser os  responsáveis pela descoberta. &lt;br /&gt;"Enquanto um copo por dia parece  ajudar, esses dados não apóiam o uso de maiores quantidades de álcool",  diz Jeffrey B. Schwimmer, professor-associado de gastroenterologia da  Universidade da Califórnia em San Diego. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O VINHO TINTO  PROTEGE A PRÓSTATA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colocado por: Lusowine em Quarta, Junho 18,  2008 - 03:05 PM GMT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um copo de vinho tinto por dia pode  reduzir para metade o risco de cancro da próstata, indica um novo  estudo realizado nos Estados Unidos e dirigido por Janet L. Stanford do  Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center.&lt;br /&gt;Esqueça as maçãs. beber um  copo de vinho por dia pode manter o urologista longe. Um novo estudo  demonstra que os homens que bebem quatro ou mais copos de vinho por  semana reduzem em 50% o risco de sofrer cancro da próstata em relação  aos que o não fazem.&lt;br /&gt;Além disso os investigadores descobriram  que os efeitos protectores do vinho tinto parecem ser ainda mais fortes  justamente contra as formas mais perigosas e agressivas de cancro da  próstata.&lt;br /&gt;Entre os homens que bebiam quatro ou mais copos de vinho  tinto por semana, registámos uma diminuição da incidência de 60% das  formas mais agressivas de cancro da próstata, diz Janet L. Stanford,  PhD, da Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center, numa nota distribuída à  imprensa. Onde se deu a mais forte redução da incidência (de cancro da  próstata) foi precisamente nas suas formas mais agressivas.&lt;br /&gt;Os investigadores dizem ser este apenas o segundo estudo que relaciona  esta forma de cancro com o vinho tinto ou outro tipo de bebidas  alcoólicas, e que as descobertas sugerem haver algo de único no vinho  tinto que que faz dele um poderoso atacante desta forma de cancro.&lt;br /&gt;No  estudo publicado no International Journal of Cancer, os investigadores  comparam os hábitos de bebida de 753 homens residentes na área de Seatle  (USA) a quem foi recentemente diagnosticado o cancro da próstata, com  outros 703 homens que gozam de boa saúde.&lt;br /&gt;Os investigadores  sublinham não se ter descoberto nenhuma relação entre o consumo de  álcool de forma generalizada, e o cancro da próstata. Contudo, quando se  olha às escolhas dos consumidores, há uma significante redução do risco  entre os que bebem vinho e particularmente entre os que bebem vinho  tinto.&lt;br /&gt;Os investigadores referem que um antioxidante conhecido como  resveratrol, (que se encontra em maior quantidade nas uvas pretas do que  nas brancas) poderá ser o responsável pelos potentes efeitos  anti-cancro do vinho tinto. &lt;br /&gt;Do site da ABE:  http://www.enologia.org.br/conteudo.asp?id_artigo=514&amp;amp;id_categoria=4&amp;amp;sTipo=artigo&amp;amp;sSecao=curiosidades&amp;amp;sSubSecao=&amp;amp;bSubMenu=1&amp;amp;sParamMenu=&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7689974014661533219?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7689974014661533219/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7689974014661533219' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7689974014661533219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7689974014661533219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/06/beneficios-do-vinho-tomar-um-copo-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3605247341164942792</id><published>2010-06-06T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T16:03:25.726-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The﻿ Beatles'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="content"&gt;      &lt;div class="comment-text"&gt;      &lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;The﻿ Beatles sure wore some crappy looking hats!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iBnJjkcJir0&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iBnJjkcJir0&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3605247341164942792?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3605247341164942792/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3605247341164942792' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3605247341164942792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3605247341164942792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/06/beatles-sure-wore-some-crappy-looking.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-4219688238033652649</id><published>2010-06-03T16:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T14:02:35.689-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yummy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I got love in my tummy'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yummy, Yummy, Yummy,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; I got love in my tummy&lt;br /&gt;And I feel like a-lovin you &lt;br /&gt;Love, you're such a sweet thing&lt;br /&gt;Good enough to eat thing &lt;br /&gt;And it's just a-what I'm gonna do....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;=)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-4219688238033652649?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/4219688238033652649/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=4219688238033652649' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4219688238033652649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4219688238033652649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/06/yummy-yummy-yummy-i-got-love-in-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5269553750979802496</id><published>2010-06-03T16:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T16:26:17.775-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soy Homero Simpson de los Simpson;simpson:homer; michael jackson'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Soy Homero Simpson de los Simpson&amp;nbsp; lolol ta brutal&lt;/b&gt;!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kGjKZBqi3AI&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kGjKZBqi3AI&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5269553750979802496?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5269553750979802496/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5269553750979802496' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5269553750979802496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5269553750979802496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/06/soy-homero-simpson-de-los-simpson-lolol.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3518836844506134536</id><published>2010-05-30T15:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T15:20:40.950-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sabão Azul e Branco ; levitação azul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='branco; sebo; queda de cabelo; branquear; dérmatologia'/><title type='text'>Sabão Azul e Branco</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v4nmUs1Exio/Sois1rzah5I/AAAAAAAABF8/R0dTII4cCUI/s1600/Sab%C3%A3oAzulBranco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v4nmUs1Exio/Sois1rzah5I/AAAAAAAABF8/R0dTII4cCUI/s320/Sab%C3%A3oAzulBranco.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Mesmo em entrevistas com dermatologistas, alguns que referem o uso do  tradicional Sabão para algumas dermatites – o que é tradicional é bom!&lt;br /&gt;A única salvaguarda vai para as fórmulas que apontam para o uso de  gordura animal (sebo)&amp;nbsp; claro aí não nos agradou, mas na maioria dos  casos as fórmulas que referem são apenas om gordura vegetal. &lt;br /&gt;De facto sempre ouvi falar do seu uso como sabonete e champô, na  “velha tropa” era o que havia e dizem alguns era bem bom.&lt;br /&gt;Eu acredito que ainda seja um sabão bom para a pele e para a roupa, uma  vez que não tem antos químicos adicionados para perfumar, branquear etc.  E a julgar pela pesquisa não encontrei artigos em que se  queixassem do produto, parece-me uma boa amostra para concluir que é  bom! &lt;br /&gt;(as pesquisas foram feitas num universo de língua portuguesa e inglesa)&lt;br /&gt;No caso de indivíduos com reacções alérgicas a detergentes há  referências do uso de Sabão Azul e Branco com sucesso, evitando assim  reacções dermatológicas.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;bem bom !… nunca vi melhor anti-caspa e as  quedas de cabelo findaram ! As minhas alternativas passam apenas pelo  Johnson’s Baby ou Ultra Suave para desenjoar…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3518836844506134536?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3518836844506134536/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3518836844506134536' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3518836844506134536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3518836844506134536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/05/sabao-azul-e-branco.html' title='Sabão Azul e Branco'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v4nmUs1Exio/Sois1rzah5I/AAAAAAAABF8/R0dTII4cCUI/s72-c/Sab%C3%A3oAzulBranco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8547746121555923424</id><published>2010-05-26T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T13:17:00.928-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ONDA CHOC'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9UNNRefYNQU&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9UNNRefYNQU&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma montagem de todos os videoclips dos ONDA CHOC... Musicas de quando era miudo hehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8547746121555923424?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8547746121555923424/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8547746121555923424' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8547746121555923424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8547746121555923424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/05/uma-montagem-de-todos-os-videoclips-dos.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1867435814737750760</id><published>2010-05-15T01:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T02:02:19.228-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heywood  Broun George Burns'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ea9999; color: purple; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You know you're  getting old when you stoop to tie your &lt;span style="background-color: blue;"&gt;shoelaces and wonder what else  you could do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f1c232;"&gt;while you're down there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: #f1c232;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; - &lt;a href="http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/37773.html"&gt;George Burns&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: #a2c4c9; color: purple; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: #b45f06; color: purple; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: #a2c4c9;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nobody talks so  constantly about God as those who insist that there is no God.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #6aa84f;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/26848.html"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #6aa84f;"&gt;Heywood Broun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-bottom: 4px; padding-top: 4px;"&gt;bem verdade meus amigos &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1867435814737750760?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1867435814737750760/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1867435814737750760' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1867435814737750760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1867435814737750760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-know-youre-getting-old-when-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3782067030659800447</id><published>2010-05-15T01:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T01:55:55.622-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='converse all star'/><title type='text'>converse all star</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/S-5hbO8gSvI/AAAAAAAAAT4/u635KOIrjhk/s1600/converse-all-star-68a72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/S-5hbO8gSvI/AAAAAAAAAT4/u635KOIrjhk/s320/converse-all-star-68a72.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;my new shoes!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3782067030659800447?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3782067030659800447/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3782067030659800447' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3782067030659800447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3782067030659800447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/05/converse-all-star.html' title='converse all star'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/S-5hbO8gSvI/AAAAAAAAAT4/u635KOIrjhk/s72-c/converse-all-star-68a72.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2761984860345794444</id><published>2010-04-30T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T13:09:07.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='What to blame when things go wrong'/><title type='text'>What to blame when things go wrong!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/S9s4wBHm1pI/AAAAAAAAATw/L2xrMF3hIUA/s1600/who-to-blame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/S9s4wBHm1pI/AAAAAAAAATw/L2xrMF3hIUA/s320/who-to-blame.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2761984860345794444?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2761984860345794444/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2761984860345794444' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2761984860345794444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2761984860345794444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-to-blame-when-things-go-wrong.html' title='What to blame when things go wrong!'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/S9s4wBHm1pI/AAAAAAAAATw/L2xrMF3hIUA/s72-c/who-to-blame.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2295111901354400838</id><published>2010-03-27T16:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T16:15:20.375-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='OH MILLA'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GANDA SOM!!!! LOL &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3Xm7WXJId5s&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3Xm7WXJId5s&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2295111901354400838?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2295111901354400838/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2295111901354400838' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2295111901354400838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2295111901354400838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/03/ganda-som-lol.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2953183683887692321</id><published>2010-03-25T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T14:44:55.794-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the Devil'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Why did you dig her up? - Said " the Devil "&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2953183683887692321?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2953183683887692321/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2953183683887692321' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2953183683887692321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2953183683887692321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/03/why-did-you-dig-her-up-said-devil.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-330534444018401146</id><published>2010-03-20T03:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T03:30:47.092-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Joan Baez - Farewell Angelina (Live 1966)'/><title type='text'>Joan Baez - Farewell Angelina (Live 1966)</title><content type='html'>Uma das minhas musicas preferidas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tmWRnbxACH0&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tmWRnbxACH0&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-330534444018401146?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/330534444018401146/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=330534444018401146' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/330534444018401146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/330534444018401146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/03/joan-baez-farewell-angelina-live-1966.html' title='Joan Baez - Farewell Angelina (Live 1966)'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-289735698932934306</id><published>2010-03-17T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T13:47:28.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The little prince parts were dedicated to my freckles... =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-289735698932934306?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/289735698932934306/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=289735698932934306' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/289735698932934306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/289735698932934306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/03/little-prince-parts-were-dedicated-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8001868138237328619</id><published>2010-03-17T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T13:39:10.318-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the little prince'/><title type='text'>Chapter 21</title><content type='html'>&lt;h1&gt;Chapter 21&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;    It was then that the fox appeared.  "Good morning," said the fox.&lt;br /&gt;"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he  turned around he saw nothing.&lt;br /&gt;"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree."&lt;br /&gt;"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty  to look at."&lt;br /&gt;"I am a fox," said the fox.&lt;br /&gt;"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince.  "I am so unhappy."&lt;br /&gt;"I cannot play with you," the fox said.  "I am not tamed."&lt;br /&gt;"Ah!  Please excuse me," said the little prince.&lt;br /&gt;But, after some thought, he added:&lt;br /&gt;"What does that mean-- 'tame'?"&lt;br /&gt;"You do not live here," said the fox.  "What is it that you are looking  for?"&lt;br /&gt;"I am looking for men," said the little prince.  "What does that mean--  'tame'?"&lt;br /&gt;"Men," said the fox.  "They have guns, and they hunt.  It is very  disturbing.  They also raise chickens.  These are their only interests.   Are you looking for chickens?"&lt;br /&gt;"No," said the little prince.  "I am looking for friends.  What does  that mean-- 'tame'?"&lt;br /&gt;"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox.  It means to establish  ties."&lt;br /&gt;"'To establish ties'?"&lt;br /&gt;"Just that," said the fox.  "To me, you are still nothing more than a  little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys.  And I  have no need of you.  And you, on your part, have no need of me.  To  you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.   But if you tame me, then we shall need each other.  To me, you will be  unique in all the world.  To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."&lt;br /&gt;"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince.  "There is a  flower... I think that she has tamed me..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/pics/21a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;  "It is possible," said the fox.  "On the Earth one sees all sorts of  things."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince.&lt;br /&gt;The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.&lt;br /&gt;"On another planet?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes."&lt;br /&gt;"Are there hunters on this planet?"&lt;br /&gt;"No."&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, that is interesting!  Are there chickens?"&lt;br /&gt;"No."&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.&lt;br /&gt;But he came back to his idea.&lt;br /&gt;"My life is very monotonous," the fox said.  "I hunt chickens; men hunt  me.  All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike.   And, in consequence, I am a little bored.  But if you tame me, it will  be as if the sun came to shine on my life.  I shall know the sound of a  step that will be different from all the others.  Other steps send me  hurrying back underneath the ground.  Yours will call me, like music,  out of my burrow.  And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder?   I do not eat bread.  Wheat is of no use to me.  The wheat fields have  nothing to say to me.  And that is sad.  But you have hair that is the  colour of gold.  Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed  me!  The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of  you.  And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."&lt;br /&gt;The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;"Please-- tame me!" he said.&lt;br /&gt;"I want to, very much," the little prince replied.  "But I have not much  time.  I have friends to discover, and a great many things to  understand."&lt;br /&gt;"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox.  "Men  have no more time to understand anything.  They buy things all ready  made at the shops.   But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy  friendship, and so men have no friends any more.  If you want a friend,  tame me..."&lt;br /&gt;"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.&lt;br /&gt;"You must be very patient," replied the fox.  "First you will sit down  at a little distance from me-- like that-- in the grass.  I shall look  at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing.  Words are  the source of misunderstandings.  But you will sit a little closer to  me, every day..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/pics/21b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;  The next day the little prince came back.&lt;br /&gt;"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox.   "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at  three o'clock I shall begin to be happy.  I shall feel happier and  happier as the hour advances.  At four o'clock, I shall already be  worrying and jumping about.  I shall show you how happy I am!  But if  you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is  to be ready to greet you... One must observe the proper rites..."&lt;br /&gt;"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.&lt;br /&gt;"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox.  "They are  what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours.   There is a rite, for example, among my hunters.  Every Thursday they  dance with the village girls.  So Thursday is a wonderful day for me!  I  can take a walk as far as the vineyards.  But if the hunters danced at  just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should  never have any vacation at all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;  &lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;  &lt;/center&gt;  So the little prince tamed the fox.  And when the hour of his departure  drew near--  "Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."&lt;br /&gt;"It is your own fault," said the little prince.  "I never wished you any  sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, that is so," said the fox.&lt;br /&gt;"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, that is so," said the fox.&lt;br /&gt;"Then it has done you no good at all!"&lt;br /&gt;"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat  fields."  And then he added:&lt;br /&gt;"Go and look again at the roses.  You will understand now that yours is  unique in all the world.  Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I  will make you a present of a secret."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;  &lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;  &lt;/center&gt;  The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.  "You are not at all like my rose," he said.  "As yet you are nothing.   No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one.  You are like my fox  when I first knew him.  He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other  foxes.  But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the  world."&lt;br /&gt;And the roses were very much embarassed.&lt;br /&gt;"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on.  "One could not die  for you.  To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose  looked just like you-- the rose that belongs to me.  But in herself  alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses:  because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put  under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind  the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars  (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because  it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or  ever sometimes when she said nothing.  Because she is &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; rose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;  &lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/star.gif" /&gt;  &lt;/center&gt;  And he went back to meet the fox.  "Goodbye," he said.&lt;br /&gt;"Goodbye," said the fox.  "And now here is my secret, a very simple  secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is  essential is invisible to the eye."&lt;br /&gt;"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated,  so that he would be sure to remember.&lt;br /&gt;"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so  important."&lt;br /&gt;"It is the time I have wasted for my rose--" said the little prince, so  that he would be sure to remember.&lt;br /&gt;"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox.  "But you must not forget  it.  You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.  You are  responsible for your rose..."&lt;br /&gt;"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he  would be sure to remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8001868138237328619?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8001868138237328619/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8001868138237328619' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8001868138237328619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8001868138237328619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-21.html' title='Chapter 21'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1061251761612891275</id><published>2010-03-17T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T13:37:44.496-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chapter 15'/><title type='text'>Chapter 15</title><content type='html'>&lt;h1&gt;Chapter 15&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;  The sixth planet was ten times larger than the last one.  It was  inhabited by an old gentleman who wrote voluminous books.  "Oh, look!  Here is an explorer!" he exclaimed to himself when he saw  the little prince coming.&lt;br /&gt;The little prince sat down on the table and panted a little.  He had  already traveled so much and so far!&lt;br /&gt;"Where do you come from?" the old gentleman said to him.&lt;br /&gt;"What is that big book?" said the little prince.  "What are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;"I am a geographer," the old gentleman said to him.&lt;br /&gt;"What is a geographer?" asked the little prince.&lt;br /&gt;"A geographer is a scholar who knows the location of all the seas,  rivers, towns, mountains, and deserts."&lt;br /&gt;"That is very interesting," said the little prince.  "Here at last is a  man who has a real profession!"  And he cast a look around him at the  planet of the geographer.  It was the most magnificent and stately  planet that he had ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.pacific.net.hk/%7Erebylee/text/prince/pics/15a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;  "Your planet is very beautiful," he said.  "Has it any oceans?"&lt;br /&gt;"I couldn't tell you," said the geographer.&lt;br /&gt;"Ah!"  The little prince was disappointed.  "Has it any mountains?"&lt;br /&gt;"I couldn't tell you," said the geographer.&lt;br /&gt;"And towns, and rivers, and deserts?"&lt;br /&gt;"I couldn't tell you that, either."&lt;br /&gt;"But you are a geographer!"&lt;br /&gt;"Exactly," the geographer said.  "But I am not an explorer.  I haven't a  single explorer on my planet.  It is not the geographer who goes out to  count the towns, the rivers, the mountains, the seas, the oceans, and  the deserts.  The geographer is much too important to go loafing about.   He does not leave his desk.  But he receives the explorers in his  study.  He asks them questions, and he notes down what they recall of  their travels.  And if the recollections of any one among them seem  interesting to him, the geographer orders an inquiry into that  explorer's moral character."&lt;br /&gt;"Why is that?"&lt;br /&gt;"Because an explorer who told lies would bring disaster on the books of  the geographer.  So would an explorer who drank too much."&lt;br /&gt;"Why is that?" asked the little prince.&lt;br /&gt;"Because intoxicated men see double.  Then the geographer would note  down two mountains in a place where there was only one."&lt;br /&gt;"I know some one," said the little prince, "who would make a bad  explorer."&lt;br /&gt;"That is possible.  Then, when the moral character of the explorer is  shown to be good, an inquiry is ordered into his discovery."&lt;br /&gt;"One goes to see it?"&lt;br /&gt;"No.  That would be too complicated.  But one requires the explorer to  furnish proofs.  For example, if the discovery in question is that of a  large mountain, one requires that large stones be brought back from it."&lt;br /&gt;The geographer was suddenly stirred to excitement.&lt;br /&gt;"But you-- you come from far away!  You are an explorer!  You shall  describe your planet to me!"&lt;br /&gt;And, having opened his big register, the geographer sharpened his  pencil.  The recitals of explorers are put down first in pencil.  One  waits until the explorer has furnished proofs, before putting them down  in ink.&lt;br /&gt;"Well?" said the geographer expectantly.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, where I live," said the little prince, "it is not very interesting.   It is all so small.  I have three volcanoes.  Two volcanoes are active  and the other is extinct.  But one never knows."&lt;br /&gt;"One never knows," said the geographer.&lt;br /&gt;"I have also a flower."&lt;br /&gt;"We do not record flowers," said the geographer.&lt;br /&gt;"Why is that?  The flower is the most beautiful thing on my planet!"&lt;br /&gt;"We do not record them," said the geographer, "because they are  ephemeral."&lt;br /&gt;"What does that mean-- 'ephemeral'?"&lt;br /&gt;"Geographies," said the geographer, "are the books which, of all books,  are most concerned with matters of consequence.  They never become  old-fashioned.  It is very rarely that a mountain changes its position.   It is very rarely that an ocean empties itself of its waters.  We write  of eternal things."&lt;br /&gt;"But extinct volcanoes may come to life again," the little prince  interrupted.  "What does that mean-- 'ephemeral'?"&lt;br /&gt;"Whether volcanoes are extinct or alive, it comes to the same thing for  us," said the geographer.  "The thing that matters to us is the  mountain.  It does not change."&lt;br /&gt;"But what does that mean-- 'ephemeral'?" repeated the little prince, who  never in his life had let go of a question, once he had asked it.&lt;br /&gt;"It means, 'which is in danger of speedy disappearance.'"&lt;br /&gt;"Is my flower in danger of speedy disappearance?"&lt;br /&gt;"Certainly it is."&lt;br /&gt;"My flower is ephemeral," the little prince said to himself, "and she  has only four thorns to defend herself against the world.  And I have  left her on my planet, all alone!"&lt;br /&gt;That was his first moment of regret.  But he took courage once more.&lt;br /&gt;"What place would you advise me to visit now?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;"The planet Earth," replied the geographer.  "It has a good reputation."&lt;br /&gt;And the little prince went away, thinking of his flower.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1061251761612891275?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1061251761612891275/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1061251761612891275' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1061251761612891275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1061251761612891275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-15.html' title='Chapter 15'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-32704865664358106</id><published>2010-03-17T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T13:33:08.950-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='William Shakespeare - Sonnet #147'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;pre&gt;" &lt;span style="background-color: red; color: black;"&gt;My love is as a fever, longing still&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: red;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.artofeurope.com/shakespeare/index.html"&gt;William Shakespeare&lt;/a&gt; - Sonnet #147&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-32704865664358106?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/32704865664358106/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=32704865664358106' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/32704865664358106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/32704865664358106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-love-is-as-fever-longing-still.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-9076481194713700698</id><published>2010-03-02T13:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T13:29:14.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fraco, o meu corpo repousa sobre o teu... os braços do perdão que me confortam com doce desespero.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-9076481194713700698?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/9076481194713700698/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=9076481194713700698' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/9076481194713700698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/9076481194713700698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/03/fraco-o-meu-corpo-repousa-sobre-o-teu.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-4444157904172792882</id><published>2010-02-14T06:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T06:33:33.128-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='One of my fav movies (Goodfellas)'/><title type='text'>One of my fav movies (Goodfellas)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fa0fjNoPE0g&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fa0fjNoPE0g&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-4444157904172792882?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/4444157904172792882/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=4444157904172792882' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4444157904172792882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4444157904172792882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/02/one-of-my-fav-movies-goodfellas.html' title='One of my fav movies (Goodfellas)'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-6981592786266241162</id><published>2010-02-09T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T10:06:40.746-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lloyd Cole  The Commotions  Jennifer She Said'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;Her name on you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Still it's written there in blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;With a heart and arrow through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Lloyd Cole &amp;amp; The Commotions&lt;br /&gt;Jennifer She Said&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-6981592786266241162?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/6981592786266241162/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=6981592786266241162' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6981592786266241162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6981592786266241162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/02/her-name-on-you-still-its-written-there.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7681574627138758542</id><published>2010-02-09T09:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T10:09:06.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lisbon by nigth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="background-color: #999999; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;Tira&lt;span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"&gt;da numa noite em que andava perdido pela ca&lt;/span&gt;pital &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/S3GhCjHNfrI/AAAAAAAAATo/SEFw8kNLcJ4/s1600-h/DSCF0204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/S3GhCjHNfrI/AAAAAAAAATo/SEFw8kNLcJ4/s400/DSCF0204.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7681574627138758542?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7681574627138758542/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7681574627138758542' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7681574627138758542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7681574627138758542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html' title='Lisbon by nigth'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/S3GhCjHNfrI/AAAAAAAAATo/SEFw8kNLcJ4/s72-c/DSCF0204.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7044587342258470080</id><published>2010-01-23T18:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T18:33:03.144-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simpsons'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I remember when this stuff was topping the charts, and turkeys were called walking birds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can't bust heads like we used to. But we have our ways. One trick is to tell stories that don't go anywhere. Like the time I caught the ferry to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for m'shoe. So I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I tied an onion to my belt. Which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. Gimme five bees for a quarter, you'd say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now where was I... oh yeah. The important thing was that I had an onion tied to my belt, which was the style at the time. You couldn't get white onions, because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7044587342258470080?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7044587342258470080/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7044587342258470080' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7044587342258470080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7044587342258470080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-remember-when-this-stuff-was-topping.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3101486972446460656</id><published>2010-01-23T15:04:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T15:04:32.332-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time... For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars... And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined my street... Or my grandmother's hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper... And the first time I saw my cousin Tony's brand new Firebird... And Janie... And Janie... And... Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr width="30%" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3101486972446460656?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3101486972446460656/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3101486972446460656' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3101486972446460656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3101486972446460656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-had-always-heard-your-entire-life.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2517301676045130547</id><published>2010-01-18T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T13:18:49.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/90IISIbzIrs&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/90IISIbzIrs&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Oh forever you said thats forever you said yes forever&lt;br /&gt;And forever she said thats forever she said yes forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still it's written there in blue&lt;br /&gt;With a heart and arrow through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her name on you&lt;br /&gt;Her name on you&lt;br /&gt;Her name on you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah in blue&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2517301676045130547?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2517301676045130547/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2517301676045130547' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2517301676045130547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2517301676045130547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/01/and-forever-she-said-thats-forever-she.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8857267572111377825</id><published>2010-01-10T15:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T15:37:11.051-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='For my freckles'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zx5HuAPd6RM&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zx5HuAPd6RM&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And its only YOU and me ALWAYS AND FOREVER!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;this is my happy song&lt;br /&gt;definitely﻿ :D      &lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8857267572111377825?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8857267572111377825/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8857267572111377825' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8857267572111377825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8857267572111377825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2010/01/this-is-my-happy-song-definitely-d.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3165367280258975181</id><published>2009-12-29T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T19:51:20.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>mhhh why the hell Lagos have so much bloody English people in the bars, i dont like them at all...&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it was because of all of those beers i dont know... me so sorry Man&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3165367280258975181?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3165367280258975181/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3165367280258975181' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3165367280258975181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3165367280258975181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/12/mhhh-why-hell-lagos-have-so-much-bloody.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-4145192465985041703</id><published>2009-12-29T14:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T14:52:52.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>De Férias em Lagos muahaha=) mhhhhh turkish foooddd SABE bem comer comida boa de vez em quando. hehe. pena tAR cheio de sono que a noite de hoje vai ser fixe...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-4145192465985041703?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/4145192465985041703/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=4145192465985041703' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4145192465985041703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4145192465985041703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/12/de-ferias-em-lagos-muahaha-mhhhhh.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-4091210196379671189</id><published>2009-12-06T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T13:20:59.497-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jammin'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ontem fui à festa de anos da minha amiga Suali, foi muito porreiro acho que nunca estive numa casa tão luxoasa são as vantagens de ter um pai que é General do exército Angolano e a mãe embaixatriz de Angola em Portugal, coisas da vida. Fomos buscar um amigo dela da Gambia que vive em Inglaterra ao aeroporto, nunca vi um tipo a fumar tanta droga fumou prai uns 8 charros só numa tarde lol enfim, já não me lembro do nome dele mas sei que era Rastafariano e que passou só musica raggae lá no bar onde estivemos.&lt;br /&gt;Foi uma festa muito fixe com amigos a condizer, foi tão fixe, tão fixe que merece um post aqui no blog hehe. &lt;br /&gt;What a huge Bdparty We're jammin, jammin rastafari style&amp;nbsp; one love hahaaha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-4091210196379671189?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/4091210196379671189/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=4091210196379671189' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4091210196379671189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4091210196379671189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/12/ontem-fui-festa-de-anos-da-minha-amiga.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-4026473787025237991</id><published>2009-11-11T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T23:53:24.719-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hay hombres que luchan un día y son buenos'/><title type='text'>Hay hombres que luchan un día y son buenos</title><content type='html'>Ontem ouvi esta frase espetacular, vale a pena pensar nisto...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" Hay hombres que luchan un día y son buenos; hay otros que luchan un año y son mejores; hay otros que luchan muchos años y son muy buenos. Pero están los que luchan toda la vida y esos son imprescindibles. "&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-4026473787025237991?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/4026473787025237991/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=4026473787025237991' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4026473787025237991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4026473787025237991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/11/hay-hombres-que-luchan-un-dia-y-son.html' title='Hay hombres que luchan un día y son buenos'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8552476306344221308</id><published>2009-11-10T13:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T13:15:06.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SvnXN9x0hPI/AAAAAAAAATg/TCyto09XRpk/s1600-h/11092009416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SvnXN9x0hPI/AAAAAAAAATg/TCyto09XRpk/s320/11092009416.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Uma foto, tirada&amp;nbsp; no meio dos campos&amp;nbsp;em Leeds. Pretty cool hey=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8552476306344221308?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8552476306344221308/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8552476306344221308' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8552476306344221308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8552476306344221308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/11/uma-foto-tirada-no-meio-dos-campos.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SvnXN9x0hPI/AAAAAAAAATg/TCyto09XRpk/s72-c/11092009416.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-995742045562610123</id><published>2009-11-08T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T11:49:12.821-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mas eles nao tem natal la na ingleterra'/><title type='text'>Mas eles nao tem natal la na ingleterra?</title><content type='html'>Hoje estava a falar com o meu primito de 12 anos no msn e disse-lhe que vinham cá umas pessoas minhas amigas da Inglaterra, e ele pergunta-me  muito inocentemente e passo a citar: &lt;br /&gt;"mas eles nao tem natal la na ingleterra?"... &lt;br /&gt;A resposta foi tão simples e directa que me deixou completamente derretido e com saudades do puto...  enfim são estas pequenas coisas vindas das crianças que fazem do mundo, um sitio mais feliz para se viver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-995742045562610123?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/995742045562610123/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=995742045562610123' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/995742045562610123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/995742045562610123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/11/hoje-estava-falar-com-o-meu-primito-de.html' title='Mas eles nao tem natal la na ingleterra?'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-9145563007928091682</id><published>2009-11-06T16:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T16:53:42.309-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Se tu és o meu amor. Dá-me cá os braços teus. Se não és o meu amor. Vai-te embora, adeus, adeus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-9145563007928091682?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/9145563007928091682/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=9145563007928091682' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/9145563007928091682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/9145563007928091682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/11/se-tu-es-o-meu-amor.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7490645603302896673</id><published>2009-10-22T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T12:07:29.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CxdOy-dtBfQ&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CxdOy-dtBfQ&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think when we hear songs from our youth, its very sad in many ways, we remember the days of our lives when everything was about just having fun and enjoying life, being young with a whole future to look forward to.,Its amazing how﻿ fast life passes by,, hearing this brings tears, where did all that time go, its seems like yesterday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Goodbye to you my trusted friend&lt;br /&gt;We've known each other since we were nine or ten&lt;br /&gt;Together we climbed hills and trees&lt;br /&gt;Learned of love and A B C's&lt;br /&gt;Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Goodbye my friend it's hard to die&lt;br /&gt;When all the birds are singing in the sky&lt;br /&gt;Now that the spring is in the air&lt;br /&gt;Pretty girls are everywhere&lt;br /&gt;Think of me and I'll be there"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Goodbye Papa its hard to die&lt;br /&gt;When all the birds are singing in the sky&lt;br /&gt;Now that the spring is in the air&lt;br /&gt;Little children everywhere&lt;br /&gt;When you see them I'll be there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The message is perfect and In case anyone cares*&lt;br /&gt;this﻿ song made kurt cobain cry the first time he heard it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7490645603302896673?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7490645603302896673/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7490645603302896673' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7490645603302896673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7490645603302896673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-think-when-we-hear-songs-from-our.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5254064991342643309</id><published>2009-10-20T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T12:33:26.709-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mhhh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='QI de viajante'/><title type='text'>QI de viajante</title><content type='html'>Hoje, a divagar pela Internet como costumo fazer naquelas horas ociosas onde não me apetece fazer patavina, escontrei um jogo extremamente viciante e que decerto vai regalar a rapaziada.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho um QI de viajante de 139 MHHH e eu a pensar que tinha um intelecto medíocre hum, isto é que há coisas do arco da velha...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.travelpod.com/traveler-iq"&gt;http://www.travelpod.com/traveler-iq&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5254064991342643309?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5254064991342643309/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5254064991342643309' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5254064991342643309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5254064991342643309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/10/hoje-divagar-pela-internet-como-costumo.html' title='QI de viajante'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-4127571258769424137</id><published>2009-10-10T15:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T15:32:02.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>As horas cinzentas alongam-se, emplaniciam-se no tempo; os momentos arrastam-se.&lt;br /&gt;Como chove!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-4127571258769424137?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/4127571258769424137/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=4127571258769424137' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4127571258769424137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4127571258769424137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/10/as-horas-cinzentas-alongam-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1211337785009578498</id><published>2009-10-10T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T15:14:28.045-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eles.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eu'/><title type='text'>eu, tu, eles.</title><content type='html'>Na névoa taciturna do anoitecer, espero por alguém numa esquina de rua londrina. O som dos passos ecoa húmido sobre a calçada. A sombra desliza pelas paredes de pedra ao som dos candeiros acesos a meia luz. Aproxima-se... é quem eu espero certamente. Mas seus passos afastam-se agora noutra direcção, mergulhando de novo no silêncio confortável da rua chuvosa. A chuva miudinha, que se entranha pelas minhas roupas. Inunda o cheiro a terra húmida. Olho para o relógio e desisto de esperar... Provavelmente seria aquele vulto, mas arrependeu-se. O meu encontro comigo mesmo falhou novamente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1211337785009578498?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1211337785009578498/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1211337785009578498' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1211337785009578498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1211337785009578498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/10/eu-tu-eles.html' title='eu, tu, eles.'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-4272510276292715348</id><published>2009-10-10T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T15:32:54.900-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emily Dickinson'/><title type='text'>I Heard A Fly Buzz</title><content type='html'>I heard a Fly buzz--when I died-- &lt;br /&gt;The Stillness in the Room&lt;br /&gt;Was like the Stillness in the Air-- &lt;br /&gt;Between the Heaves of Storm--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Eyes around--had wrung them dry-- &lt;br /&gt;And Breaths were gathering firm&lt;br /&gt;For that last Onset--when the King&lt;br /&gt;Be witnessed--in the Room-- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I willed my Keepsakes--Signed away&lt;br /&gt;What portions of me be&lt;br /&gt;Assignable--and then it was&lt;br /&gt;There interposed a Fly-- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Blue--uncertain stumbling Buzz-- &lt;br /&gt;Between the light--and me-- &lt;br /&gt;And then the Windows failed--and then&lt;br /&gt;I could not see to see--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Poems of Emily Dickinson, Thomas H. Johnson, ed., Cambridge, Mass.: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, Copyright © 1951, 1955, 1979 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-4272510276292715348?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/4272510276292715348/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=4272510276292715348' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4272510276292715348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/4272510276292715348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-heard-fly-buzz.html' title='I Heard A Fly Buzz'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5211655610035410320</id><published>2009-10-05T11:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T11:40:15.496-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sida QUE FOI ELE QUE MATOU O MEU SAPO.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Um puto com os seus 12 13 anos vai a uma casa de prostitutas mas leva um sapo morto amarrado a uma corda. Ao chegar lá, diz a que estava ao balcão, a chamada "puta madre":&lt;br /&gt;- Então meu menino, a tua mãe mandou-te ao leite e tu enganaste-te?! Olha que a loja é ali ao lado.&lt;br /&gt;O puto então pega numa nota de 50 euros e diz:&lt;br /&gt;- Quero uma puta com sida!&lt;br /&gt;- Ó meu menino, tu ainda és muito novo para isto, vai para casa.&lt;br /&gt;O puto pega em mais 50 euros e diz:&lt;br /&gt;- Quero uma puta com sida!&lt;br /&gt;A "puta madre" muito admirada diz:&lt;br /&gt;- Olha meu menino, por 100 euros arranjo-te uma menina bonita e novinha, queres?&lt;br /&gt;O puto pega em mais 50 euros e diz: Com sida!&lt;br /&gt;A "puta madre" chama uma puta toda fodida, toda desintegrada e diz:&lt;br /&gt;- Olha lá, vai lá acima com este menino mas vai depressa antes que o pito te caia.&lt;br /&gt;O puto lá vai. No fim, quando ele sai, a "puta madre" pergunta ao menino porque é que ele quis uma puta com sida, já viste que estragaste a tua vida?!&lt;br /&gt;- Porquê que eu quis uma puta com sida? E assim eu fiquei com sida? E quando chegar a casa vou ao pito à minha empregada e ela fica com sida? E depois o meu pai vai ao pito à minha empregada e fica com sida? E à noite o meu pai vai ao pito à minha mãe e ela fica com sida? E de manha, quando o meu pai for para o trabalho, a minha mãe leva no pito do padeiro e ele fica com sida QUE FOI ELE QUE MATOU O MEU SAPO.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5211655610035410320?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5211655610035410320/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5211655610035410320' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5211655610035410320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5211655610035410320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/10/um-puto-com-os-seus-12-13-anos-vai-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7273408476933613307</id><published>2009-10-05T10:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T10:59:41.055-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dicionário Açoriano- Português'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dicionário Açoriano- Português&lt;br /&gt;Can`t- Significa que não está frio. Ex: O café está can`t.&lt;br /&gt;Can - Usado por quem sofre de amnésia. Ex: Can sou eu?&lt;br /&gt;To see- Onomatopeia que representa tosse. Ex: Eu nunca to see tanto na vida.&lt;br /&gt;Cream - Significa roubar, matar Ex: Ele cometeu um cream.&lt;br /&gt;Dark - Significa generosidade, dar. Ex: É melhor dark receber.&lt;br /&gt;Date - Vocábulo usado para mandar deitar. Ex: Date-se aí!&lt;br /&gt;Day - Vocábulo usado para dar. Ex: Day-lhe um presente.&lt;br /&gt;Ice- Expressão de desejo. Ex: Ice se ela me beijasse!&lt;br /&gt;Lay- Norma a ser seguida . Ex: Roubar é contra a lay.&lt;br /&gt;May go - Pessoa dócil, afável. Ex: Ele é muito may go.&lt;br /&gt;Monday - Vocábulo usado para ordenar. Ex: Ontem monday lavar o carro.&lt;br /&gt;Must go - Significa mastigar. E: Ele colocou a pastilha na boca e must go.&lt;br /&gt;New - Sem roupa . Ex: ele saiu new de casa.&lt;br /&gt;Part - Lugar para onde mandamos as pessoas. Exemplo: Vá para o raio que o part!&lt;br /&gt;Packer - Prefixo que indica bastante. Exemplo: Eu gosto dela packer-amba!&lt;br /&gt;Paint- Artefacto para pentear o cabelo. Ex: Me empresta o paint.&lt;br /&gt;River- Pior que feio. Ex: Ele é o river.&lt;br /&gt;Sad- Quando se precisa de água. Ex: No deserto as pessoas sentem sad.&lt;br /&gt;Show- Verbo que indica afirmação. Ex: Eu show eu!&lt;br /&gt;Vain- Do verbo vir. Ex: Eles vain hoje?&lt;br /&gt;Year- Deixar, partir. Ex: Ele teve que year?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7273408476933613307?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7273408476933613307/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7273408476933613307' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7273408476933613307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7273408476933613307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/10/dicionario-acoriano-portugues-cant.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-6451902639984451031</id><published>2009-10-03T01:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T01:48:24.944-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anjo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Anjo da Guarda minha companhia, &lt;br /&gt;Guardai a minha alma de noite e de dia.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-6451902639984451031?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/6451902639984451031/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=6451902639984451031' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6451902639984451031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6451902639984451031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/10/anjo-da-guarda-minha-companhia-guardai.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8347715862417981565</id><published>2009-09-30T14:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T14:40:55.059-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='You Don&apos;t Know Me'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You give your hand to me&lt;br /&gt;And then you say, "Hello."&lt;br /&gt;And I can hardly speak,&lt;br /&gt;My heart is beating so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Don't Know Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8347715862417981565?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8347715862417981565/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8347715862417981565' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8347715862417981565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8347715862417981565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-give-your-hand-to-me-and-then-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-854840454405422062</id><published>2009-09-29T13:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T13:28:55.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>'Cause I wonder where you are&lt;br /&gt;And I wonder what you do&lt;br /&gt;Are you somewhere feeling lonely, or is someone loving you?&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how to win your heart&lt;br /&gt;For I haven't got a clue&lt;br /&gt;But let me start by saying, I love you ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-854840454405422062?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/854840454405422062/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=854840454405422062' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/854840454405422062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/854840454405422062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/09/cause-i-wonder-where-you-are-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3008546888901030783</id><published>2009-09-21T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T10:27:28.029-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pequena  Álvaro de Campos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(Come chocolates'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Tabacaria&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;(Come chocolates, pequena;Come chocolates!&lt;br /&gt;Olha que não há mais metafísica no mundo senão chocolates.&lt;br /&gt;Olha que as religiões todas não ensinam mais que a confeitaria.&lt;br /&gt;Come, pequena suja, come!&lt;br /&gt;Pudesse eu comer chocolates com a mesma verdade com que comes!&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu penso e, ao tirar o papel de prata, que é de folha de estanho,&lt;br /&gt;Deito tudo para o chão, como tenho deitado a vida.)&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E penso: talvez nunca vivesses nem estudasses nem amasses nem cresses&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Se eu casasse com a filha da minha lavadeira&lt;br /&gt;Talvez fosse feliz.)&lt;br /&gt;Visto isto, levanto-me da cadeira. Vou à janela.&lt;br /&gt;O homem saiu da Tabacaria (metendo troco na algibeira das calças?).&lt;br /&gt;Ah, conheco-o; é o Esteves sem metafísica.&lt;br /&gt;(O Dono da Tabacaria chegou à porta.)&lt;br /&gt;Como por um instinto divino o Esteves voltou-se e viu-me.&lt;br /&gt;Acenou-me adeus, gritei-lhe Adeus ó Esteves!, e o universo&lt;br /&gt;Reconstruiu-se-me sem ideal nem esperança, e o Dono da Tabacaria sorriu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Álvaro de Campos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3008546888901030783?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3008546888901030783/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3008546888901030783' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3008546888901030783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3008546888901030783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/09/tabacaria.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-6838657279847268682</id><published>2009-09-17T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T10:05:33.390-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lovetrips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='=)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='film'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='porn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>LoveTrips: couples in long distance relationships wanted for European documentary film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does your partner live in another country?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you travel long distance to see her or him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm searching for couples who travel Europe to keep their love alive, to appear in a documentary film I'll be directing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you're making "LoveTrips" learn more at&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=" http://www.lovetrips.eu/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.LoveTrips.eu&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-6838657279847268682?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/6838657279847268682/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=6838657279847268682' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6838657279847268682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6838657279847268682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/09/lovetrips-couples-in-long-distance.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3923821288896393668</id><published>2009-08-22T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T13:27:27.715-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='army'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SpBT3FZ9FDI/AAAAAAAAASQ/6cot-RQ6pu0/s1600-h/080520099091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SpBT3FZ9FDI/AAAAAAAAASQ/6cot-RQ6pu0/s400/080520099091.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372886561261950002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DGME&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3923821288896393668?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3923821288896393668/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3923821288896393668' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3923821288896393668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3923821288896393668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SpBT3FZ9FDI/AAAAAAAAASQ/6cot-RQ6pu0/s72-c/080520099091.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2552790931091307348</id><published>2009-07-27T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T15:47:19.233-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mm'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>E então ela se fez bonita como há muito tempo não queria ousar&lt;br /&gt;Com seu vestido decotado cheirando a guardado de tanto esperar&lt;br /&gt;Depois os dois deram-se os braços como há muito tempo não se usava dar&lt;br /&gt;E cheios de ternura e graça, foram para a praça e começaram a se abraçar&lt;br /&gt;E ali dançaram tanta dança que a vizinhança toda despertou&lt;br /&gt;E foi tanta felicidade que toda cidade se iluminou&lt;br /&gt;E foram tantos beijos loucos, tantos gritos roucos como não se ouvia mais...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2552790931091307348?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2552790931091307348/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2552790931091307348' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2552790931091307348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2552790931091307348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-entao-ela-se-fez-bonita-como-ha-muito.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-6921079005107947128</id><published>2009-07-26T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T10:48:15.654-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O MENINO DA LÁGRIMA'/><title type='text'>O MENINO DA LÁGRIMA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SmyWtLsh83I/AAAAAAAAASI/d0QwqnvhRSM/s1600-h/meninomonstroff2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 289px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SmyWtLsh83I/AAAAAAAAASI/d0QwqnvhRSM/s400/meninomonstroff2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362826959269262194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais do que uma piroseira pseudo-chic, o menino da lágrima é um ícone do existencialismo doméstico... Fechado no armário durante muitos anos, o menino já não se preocupa muito em esconder o sorriso, por vezes faz o frete da lágrima, não vá a sociedade condenar a renuncia dos bons costumes... Em altura de comemorações da efeméride, é altura de pensar, repensar, e passear o cão, o que é estupidamente propicio ao pensamento e reflexão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dois anos depois, o piqueno não chora, e é por estes dias um menino crescido a comemorar os últimos 2 anos de um novo existencialismo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-6921079005107947128?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/6921079005107947128/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=6921079005107947128' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6921079005107947128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6921079005107947128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-menino-da-lagrima.html' title='O MENINO DA LÁGRIMA'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SmyWtLsh83I/AAAAAAAAASI/d0QwqnvhRSM/s72-c/meninomonstroff2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8473678598495694777</id><published>2009-07-15T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T17:45:18.549-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='treta'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Não, solidão, hoje não! &lt;br /&gt;Vai, minha triste saudade&lt;br /&gt;para longe de mim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosto de me ver chorar,&lt;br /&gt;E finjo que finjo que finjo&lt;br /&gt;Que não sei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu vício&lt;br /&gt;Desde o inicio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu Zem!&lt;br /&gt;Meu Bem!&lt;br /&gt;Meu Mal!...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8473678598495694777?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8473678598495694777/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8473678598495694777' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8473678598495694777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8473678598495694777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/vai-minha-triste-saudade-para-longe-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1019921617688155482</id><published>2009-07-15T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T17:26:38.069-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I’ll tell ya baby there we’re through  I’m leaving you for the last time baby'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When I get to Warwick Avenue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet me by the entrance of the tube&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll tell ya baby there we’re through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m leaving you for the last time baby!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1019921617688155482?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1019921617688155482/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1019921617688155482' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1019921617688155482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1019921617688155482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/when-i-get-to-warwick-avenue-meet-me-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5528190664875262255</id><published>2009-07-10T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T14:39:04.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In volatile market, only stable investment is porn!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5528190664875262255?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5528190664875262255/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5528190664875262255' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5528190664875262255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5528190664875262255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/in-volatile-market-only-stable.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1101923890407941029</id><published>2009-07-10T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T14:34:15.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>School for Monsters!&lt;br /&gt;School for lonely little monsters!&lt;br /&gt;When me little,&lt;br /&gt;Going to school,&lt;br /&gt;Other children&lt;br /&gt;Think me not cool,&lt;br /&gt;Poking and pulling&lt;br /&gt;At me fur...&lt;br /&gt;Now me have therapist,&lt;br /&gt;And work on this with her.&lt;br /&gt;But me no need me therapy&lt;br /&gt;If Monster School a reality!=)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1101923890407941029?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1101923890407941029/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1101923890407941029' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1101923890407941029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1101923890407941029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/school-for-monsters-school-for-lonely.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7643430616372214796</id><published>2009-07-07T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T11:00:54.370-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='9 mm Walther P38.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SlONNZ3ty2I/AAAAAAAAASA/OpoeOtfdnIQ/s1600-h/walther__p38-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SlONNZ3ty2I/AAAAAAAAASA/OpoeOtfdnIQ/s400/walther__p38-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355779643296041826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7643430616372214796?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7643430616372214796/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7643430616372214796' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7643430616372214796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7643430616372214796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SlONNZ3ty2I/AAAAAAAAASA/OpoeOtfdnIQ/s72-c/walther__p38-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-22243964225308127</id><published>2009-07-07T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T10:58:54.825-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perhaps'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So if you really love me&lt;br /&gt;Say yes&lt;br /&gt;But if you don't, dear,&lt;br /&gt;Confess&lt;br /&gt;And please don't tell me&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-22243964225308127?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/22243964225308127/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=22243964225308127' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/22243964225308127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/22243964225308127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-if-you-really-love-me-say-yes-but-if.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1288577186211547921</id><published>2009-07-02T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T00:04:44.602-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my lucky coin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a minha moeda da sorte'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tbn3.google.com/images?q=tbn:HKA_7L7Q2CJEvM:http://www.ukcoinpics.co.uk/dec/10/10_80.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 71px;" src="http://tbn3.google.com/images?q=tbn:HKA_7L7Q2CJEvM:http://www.ukcoinpics.co.uk/dec/10/10_80.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje tirei 14 disse eu, o homem Rodrigues olhou para mim lentamente deu-me os parabéns e conseguiu ficar feliz como já não ficava desde há muito tempo. &lt;br /&gt;Eu disse-lhe que era fácil tirar 14. Anda para a universidade...&lt;br /&gt;Podes ser mais velho mas há sempre tempo para voltares atrás e para seres feliz naquilo que queres fazer da vida.&lt;br /&gt;Dei-lhe a minha moeda da sorte de 10 pences e disse-lhe: eu acredito em ti! &lt;br /&gt;o homem Rodrigues no alto da sua sapiência começou a chorar e disse-me: Nunca ninguém tinha acreditado em mim e nas minhas capacidades antes , vou aceitar a tua moeda. Não é uma moeda vulgar é o teu legado para mim e vou-ta devolver quando for Mestre.&lt;br /&gt;Disse-me ainda : Quem diria, tu, que te considerava uma pessoa passageira, passaste a ser o meu melhor amigo aqui dentro mano velho!&lt;br /&gt;E assim foi, uma simples moeda como tantas outras moedas iguais a ela, mudou a vida do homem Rodrigues que do alto da sua sapiência se apercebeu das suas capacidades intelectuais, outrora adormecidas, agora mais acesas do que nunca. Agora este homem quer ser professor.&lt;br /&gt;Mas que lição de vida, há muito tempo que não me sentia assim tão feliz como hoje, quem diria...&lt;br /&gt;A minha moeda da sorte...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1288577186211547921?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1288577186211547921/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1288577186211547921' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1288577186211547921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1288577186211547921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/hoje-tirei-14-disse-eu-o-homem.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-314674927412477409</id><published>2009-07-02T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T00:02:24.589-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sabes uma coisa? Tenho muitas saudades de ti.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Vazio, angustiado, triste, doente, sonolento, cansado, perdido, dorido, não consigo pensar, o meu cérebro congelou à 39 segundos atrás...&lt;br /&gt;Sabes uma coisa? Tenho muitas saudades de ti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-314674927412477409?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/314674927412477409/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=314674927412477409' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/314674927412477409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/314674927412477409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/vazio-angustiado-triste-doente-sono.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1935666877199436689</id><published>2009-07-02T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T19:21:17.578-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Do Alto Do Mundo...'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Do Alto Do Mundo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao lançar-me do telhado, inspiro o mundo até ao silêncio. Corto o vento com os braços estendidos como uma ave. A vida desliza pela minha roupa. Com o coração embriagado pela queda revejo tudo e todos na minha mente. Penso, penso muito. Penso como se tivesse todo o tempo do mundo para pensar. Como se esta queda fosse eterna. Quase poderia jurar que o mundo gira à minha volta. E no entanto o arrependimento espelha-se na minha face à medida que me aproximo do alcatrão... mas já não existe maneira de voltar atrás.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1935666877199436689?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1935666877199436689/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1935666877199436689' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1935666877199436689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1935666877199436689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/do-alto-do-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-6471112455952378316</id><published>2009-07-01T16:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T16:33:22.622-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Talkative young ones to those that like them'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the loud laugh of work-people at their meals..'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I hear the sound I love, the soung of the hyman voice,&lt;br /&gt;I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused, or following,&lt;br /&gt;Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the day and night,&lt;br /&gt;Talkative young ones to those that like them, the loud laugh of work-people at their meals..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-6471112455952378316?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/6471112455952378316/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=6471112455952378316' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6471112455952378316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/6471112455952378316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-hear-sound-i-love-soung-of-hyman.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-8300866825779466673</id><published>2009-06-30T05:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T05:29:31.789-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leonard Cohen- suzanne'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SkoFIxvof1I/AAAAAAAAAR4/5WTqDa40i0A/s1600-h/Sem+t%C3%ADtuloh.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 292px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SkoFIxvof1I/AAAAAAAAAR4/5WTqDa40i0A/s320/Sem+t%C3%ADtuloh.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353096755433471826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you want to travel with her,&lt;br /&gt;And you want to travel blind,&lt;br /&gt;And you know she will trust you,&lt;br /&gt;For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-8300866825779466673?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/8300866825779466673/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=8300866825779466673' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8300866825779466673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/8300866825779466673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-you-want-to-travel-with-her-and-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/SkoFIxvof1I/AAAAAAAAAR4/5WTqDa40i0A/s72-c/Sem+t%C3%ADtuloh.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7649531431911515555</id><published>2009-06-30T01:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T01:12:52.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Let's see...&lt;br /&gt;"You've Got A Friend"&lt;br /&gt;"The Theme From 'Friends'"&lt;br /&gt;"That's What Friends Are For"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit!&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but look!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A Whole New World"&lt;br /&gt;"Kiss The Girl"&lt;br /&gt;"My Cherie Amour"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I Am The Walrus"&lt;br /&gt;"Fat Bottomed Girls"&lt;br /&gt;"Yellow Submarine"&lt;br /&gt;What does this mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, well, did you get to side B yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it's great! Check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stuck On You"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love Me Do"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My Heart Will Go On"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's Got A Way"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yesterday"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Goodnight Saigon!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Through The Years"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Theme From 'Cheers'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Moving Right Along"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, there's one more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I Have To Say I Love You In A Song"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7649531431911515555?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7649531431911515555/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7649531431911515555' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7649531431911515555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7649531431911515555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/06/lets-see.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7252136870691657396</id><published>2009-06-22T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T16:26:38.931-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kate MonsterA mix u a clue.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Kate Monster:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mix tape.&lt;br /&gt;He made a mix tape.&lt;br /&gt;He was thinking of me,&lt;br /&gt;Which shows he cares!&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when someone&lt;br /&gt;Has a crush on you&lt;br /&gt;They'll make you a mix tape&lt;br /&gt;To give you a clue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7252136870691657396?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7252136870691657396/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7252136870691657396' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7252136870691657396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7252136870691657396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/06/kate-monster-mix-tape.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2210638065303696215</id><published>2009-06-20T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T06:23:19.720-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='it sux to be me'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HPvZVdHDB4E&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HPvZVdHDB4E&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A musical Directly from broadway hehe sweet it sux to be me...=)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2210638065303696215?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2210638065303696215/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2210638065303696215' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2210638065303696215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2210638065303696215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/06/musical-directly-from-broadway-hehe.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1439074411393706541</id><published>2009-06-20T02:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T02:32:45.499-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Avenue Q&apos;s puppets london'/><title type='text'>Avenue Q's puppets london</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1065/737/1600/AvenueQ_cast.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 590px; height: 330px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1065/737/1600/AvenueQ_cast.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ontem fui ver um dos melhores musicais que já assisti, foi em Londres ao pé do Piccadilly Circus, com a Hannah, o Steve, Lindsay and her sister =)muita fixe aconselho  a todos. The Internet it's for PORNN haha &lt;br /&gt;Theatre tickets for Avenue Q at the Gielgud Theatre are currently available through to Sept, 2009.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2YWD5wzuR74&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2YWD5wzuR74&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;t’s a musical. Proper musical with song and dance. With a live band who are hidden behind the set until the end. Just with puppets as well as people. A bit like a particularly tuneful Sesame Street - though Avenue Q has no connection with the Jim Henson Company or Sesame Workshop. Though it’s done in a similar style: every now and again screens appear to bring a comical animated interlude to explain “purpose” or some other entertaining aside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1439074411393706541?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1439074411393706541/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1439074411393706541' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1439074411393706541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1439074411393706541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/06/avenue-qs-puppets-london.html' title='Avenue Q&apos;s puppets london'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2088899149789632258</id><published>2009-05-30T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T11:31:16.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tomorrow I'm going to Paris and then CORSEGA .Hope the sea there is so blue as in my dreams...&lt;br /&gt;Anyway how the hell should I get from the airport to the stupid hotel, Paris seems busy, I think I'm going to get lost damn I need a map=/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2088899149789632258?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2088899149789632258/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2088899149789632258' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2088899149789632258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2088899149789632258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/05/tomorrow-iam-going-to-paris-and-corsega.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5736049906501555784</id><published>2009-05-29T16:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T16:05:39.304-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aladdin - A Whole New World Disney'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I can show you the world&lt;br /&gt;Shining, shimmering, splendid&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, princess, now when did&lt;br /&gt;You last let your heart decide?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Take you wonder by wonder&lt;br /&gt;Over, sideways and under&lt;br /&gt;On a magic carpet ride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whole new world&lt;br /&gt;A new fantastic point of view&lt;br /&gt;No one to tell us no&lt;br /&gt;Or where to go&lt;br /&gt;Or say we're only dreaming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whole new world&lt;br /&gt;A dazzling place I never knew&lt;br /&gt;But when I'm way up here&lt;br /&gt;It's crystal clear&lt;br /&gt;That now I'm in a whole new world with you&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm in a whole new world with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbelievable sights&lt;br /&gt;Indescribable feeling&lt;br /&gt;Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling&lt;br /&gt;Through an endless diamond sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whole new world&lt;br /&gt;Don't you dare close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;A hundred thousand things to see&lt;br /&gt;Hold your breath - it gets better&lt;br /&gt;I'm like a shooting star&lt;br /&gt;I've come so far&lt;br /&gt;I can't go back to where I used to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whole new world&lt;br /&gt;Every turn a surprise&lt;br /&gt;With new horizons to pursue&lt;br /&gt;Every moment red-letter&lt;br /&gt;I'll chase them anywhere&lt;br /&gt;There's time to spare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Let me share this whole new world with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whole new world&lt;br /&gt;That's where we'll be&lt;br /&gt;A thrilling chase&lt;br /&gt;A wondrous place&lt;br /&gt;For you and me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5736049906501555784?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5736049906501555784/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5736049906501555784' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5736049906501555784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5736049906501555784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-can-show-you-world-shining-shimmering.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7217832598568444147</id><published>2009-05-23T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T17:02:17.635-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NAT KING COLE L-O-V-E'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;NAT KING COLE L-O-V-E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L is for the way you look at me&lt;br /&gt;O is for the only one I see&lt;br /&gt;V is very, very extraordinary&lt;br /&gt;E is even more than anyone that you adore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is all that I can give to you&lt;br /&gt;Love is more than just a game for two&lt;br /&gt;Two in love can make it&lt;br /&gt;Take my heart and please don't break it&lt;br /&gt;Love was made for me and you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(trumpet instrumental)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt; is for the way you look at me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt; is for the only one I see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt; is very, very extraordinary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt; is even more than anyone that you adore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is all that I can give to you&lt;br /&gt;Love is more than just a game for two&lt;br /&gt;Two in love can make it&lt;br /&gt;Take my heart and please don't break it&lt;br /&gt;Love was made for me and you&lt;br /&gt;Love was made for me and you&lt;br /&gt;Love was made for me and you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7217832598568444147?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7217832598568444147/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7217832598568444147' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7217832598568444147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7217832598568444147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/05/nat-king-cole-l-o-v-e-l-is-for-way-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3372685815716647636</id><published>2009-05-21T00:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T00:49:13.645-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sérgio Godinho'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letras'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;Namoro&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Autor: Viriato da Cruz, Angola&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;                        "Namoro"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Mandei-lhe uma carta em papel perfumado&lt;br /&gt;     e com letra bonita eu disse ela tinha&lt;br /&gt;     um sorrir luminoso tão quente e gaiato&lt;br /&gt;     como o sol de Novembro brincando&lt;br /&gt;     de artista nas acácias floridas&lt;br /&gt;     espalhando diamantes na fímbria do mar&lt;br /&gt;     e dando calor ao sumo das mangas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Sua pele macia - era sumaúma...&lt;br /&gt;     Sua pele macia, da cor do jambo, cheirando a rosas&lt;br /&gt;     sua pele macia guardava as doçuras do corpo rijo&lt;br /&gt;     tão rijo e tão doce - como o maboque...&lt;br /&gt;     Seus seios, laranjas - laranjas do Loje&lt;br /&gt;     seus dentes... - marfim...&lt;br /&gt;             Mandei-lhe essa carta&lt;br /&gt;             e ela disse que não.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Mandei-lhe um cartão&lt;br /&gt;     que o amigo Maninho tipografou:&lt;br /&gt;     "Por ti sofre o meu coração"&lt;br /&gt;     Num canto - SIM, noutro canto - NÃO&lt;br /&gt;             E ela o canto do NÃO dobrou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Mandei-lhe um recado pela Zefa do Sete&lt;br /&gt;     pedindo, rogando de joelhos no chão&lt;br /&gt;     pela Senhora do Cabo, pela Santa Ifigenia,&lt;br /&gt;     me desse a ventura do seu namoro...&lt;br /&gt;             E ela disse que não.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Levei á Avo Chica, quimbanda de fama&lt;br /&gt;     a areia da marca que o seu pé deixou&lt;br /&gt;     para que fizesse um feitiço forte e seguro&lt;br /&gt;     que nela nascesse um amor como o meu...&lt;br /&gt;             E o feitiço falhou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Esperei-a de tarde, á porta da fabrica,&lt;br /&gt;     ofertei-lhe um colar e um anel e um broche,&lt;br /&gt;     paguei-lhe doces na calçada da Missão,&lt;br /&gt;     ficamos num banco do largo da Estátua,&lt;br /&gt;     afaguei-lhe as mãos...&lt;br /&gt;     falei-lhe de amor... e ela disse que não.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Andei barbudo, sujo e descalço,&lt;br /&gt;     como um mona-ngamba.&lt;br /&gt;     Procuraram por mim&lt;br /&gt;     "-Não viu...(ai, não viu...?) não viu Benjamim?"&lt;br /&gt;     E perdido me deram no morro da Samba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Para me distrair&lt;br /&gt;     levaram-me ao baile do Sô Januario&lt;br /&gt;     mas ela lá estava num canto a rir&lt;br /&gt;     contando o meu caso&lt;br /&gt;     as moças mais lindas do Bairro Operário.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Tocaram uma rumba - dancei com ela&lt;br /&gt;     e num passo maluco voamos na sala&lt;br /&gt;     qual uma estrela riscando o céu!&lt;br /&gt;     E a malta gritou: "Aí Benjamim !"&lt;br /&gt;     Olhei-a nos olhos - sorriu para mim&lt;br /&gt;     pedi-lhe um beijo - e ela disse que sim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3372685815716647636?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3372685815716647636/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3372685815716647636' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3372685815716647636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3372685815716647636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/05/autor-viriato-da-cruz-angola-namoro.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-5693433683041545026</id><published>2009-05-10T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T06:55:18.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;E ele saudoso, chamou-a para junto de si precisamente no aniversário da sua morte.&lt;br /&gt;Silenciosa e indolor como todas deveriam ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adeus avó Adelaide, eles tomam conta de ti e vocês de nós...&lt;br /&gt;saudades tuas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-5693433683041545026?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/5693433683041545026/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=5693433683041545026' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5693433683041545026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/5693433683041545026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-ele-saudoso-chamou-para-junto-de-si.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-7770142895604260773</id><published>2009-03-28T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T19:09:50.664-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flowers'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/Sc7YVvkRznI/AAAAAAAAARw/tNLdpWom3Ck/s1600-h/17012009136.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/Sc7YVvkRznI/AAAAAAAAARw/tNLdpWom3Ck/s200/17012009136.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318426078028615282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my life&lt;br /&gt;Where have you been?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-7770142895604260773?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/7770142895604260773/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=7770142895604260773' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7770142895604260773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/7770142895604260773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/03/all-of-my-life-where-have-you-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/Sc7YVvkRznI/AAAAAAAAARw/tNLdpWom3Ck/s72-c/17012009136.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-597168927642894652</id><published>2009-03-27T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T12:41:18.655-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Um dó li tá cara de amêndoá um segredo colorido'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quem está livre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='livre estará.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Um dó li tá cara de amêndoá um segredo colorido, quem está livre, livre estará.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-597168927642894652?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/597168927642894652/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=597168927642894652' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/597168927642894652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/597168927642894652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/03/um-do-li-ta-cara-de-amendoa-um-segredo.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1607444701167899411</id><published>2009-03-25T16:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T16:35:35.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bolacha</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ela não acreditava nos seus lábios quando ele sussurrava «eu amo-te!». Achava que a paixão o levava a proferir tal loucura. No entanto, ele amava-a como se fosse a única mulher no mundo. E era sim, mas só para ele. Ela era a sua rosa, de um encarnado quase preto, cujos espinhos insistiam em rasgar-lhe a pele. Era como se a vida morresse quando eles se uniam, os fogos mais infernais pareciam gelo imaculado derretendo nos seus corpos suados pela sensualidade do amor. A outra espreitava-os todas as noites, com desdém. Mas não foi ele que os traiu. Foi a vida que lhes roubou os sentidos numa tentativa de lhes abafar a intensidade com que se amavam. Eles não se deixaram enganar por algo tão terreno. No entanto ela continuava a não acreditar nos seus lábios, nos seus olhos, na delicadeza com que lhe tocava e na sinceridade com que lhe dava prazer. Algo no passado dela obrigava a que estivesse sempre insegura como se o jardim onde estava plantada lhe roubasse as raízes uma a uma. Mas ela amava-o, à sua maneira. O tempo passa agora por eles... e os seus lábios sabem tão bem quanto ele, que nunca enganaram aquela rosa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1607444701167899411?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1607444701167899411/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1607444701167899411' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1607444701167899411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1607444701167899411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/03/sem-fim.html' title='Bolacha'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-1819117713145644599</id><published>2009-03-22T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T18:53:08.725-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oda a un gran atún en el mercado'/><title type='text'>Oda a un gran atún en el mercado</title><content type='html'>En el mercado verde,&lt;br /&gt;bala&lt;br /&gt;del profundo&lt;br /&gt;océano,&lt;br /&gt;proyectil&lt;br /&gt;natatorio,&lt;br /&gt;te vi,&lt;br /&gt;muerto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo a tu alrededor&lt;br /&gt;eran lechugas,&lt;br /&gt;espuma&lt;br /&gt;de la tierra,&lt;br /&gt;zanahorias,&lt;br /&gt;racimos,&lt;br /&gt;pero&lt;br /&gt;de la verdad&lt;br /&gt;marina,&lt;br /&gt;de lo desconocido,&lt;br /&gt;de la&lt;br /&gt;insondable&lt;br /&gt;sombra,&lt;br /&gt;agua&lt;br /&gt;profunda,&lt;br /&gt;abismo,&lt;br /&gt;sólo tu sobrevivías,&lt;br /&gt;alquitranado, barnizado,&lt;br /&gt;testigo&lt;br /&gt;de la profunda noche.&lt;br /&gt;Sólo tú, bala oscura&lt;br /&gt;del abismo,&lt;br /&gt;certera&lt;br /&gt;destruida&lt;br /&gt;sólo en un punto,&lt;br /&gt;siempre&lt;br /&gt;renaciendo,&lt;br /&gt;anclando en la corriente&lt;br /&gt;sus aladas aletas,&lt;br /&gt;circulando&lt;br /&gt;en la velocidad&lt;br /&gt;en el transcurso&lt;br /&gt;de&lt;br /&gt;la&lt;br /&gt;sombra&lt;br /&gt;marina&lt;br /&gt;como enlutada flecha,&lt;br /&gt;dardo del mar,&lt;br /&gt;intrépida aceituna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muerto te vi,&lt;br /&gt;difunto rey&lt;br /&gt;de mi propio océano,&lt;br /&gt;ímpetu&lt;br /&gt;verde, abeto&lt;br /&gt;submarino,&lt;br /&gt;nuez&lt;br /&gt;de los maremotos,&lt;br /&gt;allí,&lt;br /&gt;despojo muerto,&lt;br /&gt;en el mercado&lt;br /&gt;era&lt;br /&gt;sin embargo&lt;br /&gt;tu forma&lt;br /&gt;lo único dirigido&lt;br /&gt;entre&lt;br /&gt;la confusa derrota&lt;br /&gt;de la naturaleza:&lt;br /&gt;entre la verdura frágil&lt;br /&gt;estabas&lt;br /&gt;solo como una nave,&lt;br /&gt;armado&lt;br /&gt;entre legumbres,&lt;br /&gt;con ala y proa negras y aceitadas,&lt;br /&gt;como si aún tú fueras&lt;br /&gt;la embarcación del viento,&lt;br /&gt;la única&lt;br /&gt;y pura&lt;br /&gt;máquina&lt;br /&gt;marina:&lt;br /&gt;intacta navegando&lt;br /&gt;las aguas de la muerte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-1819117713145644599?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/1819117713145644599/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=1819117713145644599' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1819117713145644599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/1819117713145644599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/03/oda-un-gran-atun-en-el-mercado.html' title='Oda a un gran atún en el mercado'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-297774053174350409</id><published>2009-03-22T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T18:49:48.371-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MN  Copyright 2002 by Linda Gregg.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='St Paul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from Too Bright to See Alma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2002 Graywolf Press'/><title type='text'>Poem Number 170   Summer in a Small Town</title><content type='html'>When the men leave me,&lt;br /&gt;they leave me in a beautiful place.&lt;br /&gt;It is always late summer.&lt;br /&gt;When I think of them now,&lt;br /&gt;I think of the place.&lt;br /&gt;And being happy alone afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;This time it’s Clinton, New York.&lt;br /&gt;I swim in the public pool&lt;br /&gt;at six when the other people&lt;br /&gt;have gone home.&lt;br /&gt;The sky is grey, the air hot.&lt;br /&gt;I walk back across the mown lawn&lt;br /&gt;loving the smell and the houses&lt;br /&gt;so completely it leaves my heart empty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-297774053174350409?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/297774053174350409/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=297774053174350409' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/297774053174350409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/297774053174350409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/03/poem-number-170-summer-in-small-town.html' title='Poem Number 170   Summer in a Small Town'/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-3140642906726328521</id><published>2009-03-21T11:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T11:12:54.217-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pablo Neruda'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Os teus pés Quando não posso contemplar teu rosto, contemplo os teus pés. Teus pés de osso arqueado, teus pequenos pés duros. Eu sei que te sustentam e que teu doce peso sobre eles se ergue. Tua cintura e teus seios, a duplicada púrpura dos teus mamilos, a caixa dos teus olhos que há pouco levantaram vôo, a larga boca de fruta, tua rubra cabeleira, pequena torre minha. Mas se amo os teus pés é só porque andaram sobre a terra e sobre o vento e sobre a água, até me encontrarem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pablo Neruda&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-3140642906726328521?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/3140642906726328521/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=3140642906726328521' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3140642906726328521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/3140642906726328521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/03/os-teus-pes-quando-nao-posso-contemplar.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7670530514568407572.post-2282674345531602409</id><published>2009-03-16T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T11:48:30.208-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pai'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mãe by: Me trying to be artistic'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/Sb6esXwW5oI/AAAAAAAAARo/OACxIl_fUrQ/s1600-h/pai+mae.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/Sb6esXwW5oI/AAAAAAAAARo/OACxIl_fUrQ/s400/pai+mae.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859095472039554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pai, Mãe&lt;br /&gt;by: Me trying to be artistic&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7670530514568407572-2282674345531602409?l=umblogdatreta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/feeds/2282674345531602409/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7670530514568407572&amp;postID=2282674345531602409' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2282674345531602409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7670530514568407572/posts/default/2282674345531602409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://umblogdatreta.blogspot.com/2009/03/pai-mae-by-me-trying-to-be-artistic.html' title=''/><author><name>Ricardo Malafaia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12350948976088971149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/St4dRcwhRHI/AAAAAAAAATA/IeMk0ypGlGU/S220/15fev09+118.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K69CMQQlkRI/Sb6esXwW5oI/AAAAAAAAARo/OACxIl_fUrQ/s72-c/pai+mae.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
