<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYDSX49fCp7ImA9WhVUFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595</id><updated>2012-05-19T13:56:18.064+01:00</updated><category term="a minha cabeça já não é o que era" /><category term="a minha filha" /><category term="bilhardices que eu oiço" /><category term="o que eu leio" /><category term="férias" /><category term="adverbiando" /><category term="pensamentos" /><category term="anedotas" /><category term="minha terra" /><category term="o que eu vejo" /><category term="videos" /><category term="falar português" /><category term="sonhos" /><category term="Pulga" /><category term="pulguito" /><category term="canções" /><category term="uem 8ainda) não sabe caralhinho é o pau de emxer" /><category term="fim de semana" /><category term="Pulgas" /><category term="Falar madeirense" /><category term="titia" /><category term="família" /><category term="eu" /><category term="novo blogue" /><category term="o meu bisalho" /><category term="natal" /><category term="genro" /><category term="Quando eu for grande" /><category term="teresa" /><category term="filósofos" /><category term="novas amizades" /><category term="pulguinha" /><category term="este avô" /><category term="as 1ªs pulgas" /><category term="outras pulgas" /><title>AVOGI          (e as Pulgas)</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2208</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/AvogiEAsPulgas" /><feedburner:info uri="avogieaspulgas" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>AvogiEAsPulgas</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4FQn08eCp7ImA9WhVUE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-3408656632982021713</id><published>2012-05-19T00:48:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-19T00:48:33.370+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-19T00:48:33.370+01:00</app:edited><title>Mas porque é que não sou rica?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/3408656632982021713/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=3408656632982021713&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/3408656632982021713?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/3408656632982021713?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/ywaYWTI5VeI/mas-porque-e-que-nao-sou-rica.html" title="Mas porque é que não sou rica?" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html"> E porque é que não tenho rios (rios,mares oceanos) de dinheiro? E porque é que esse malvado não me vem beijar a mão? Mas porque é que só quem tem unhas é que toca guitarra? Eu inté tenho unhas não tenho é guitarra nem guita.
E porque razão está sempre, repito sempre, nas mãos dos que não merecem? E eu mereço tanto!
E, merecia estar no estádio do Dragão! Ao lado do mê bisalho e do projecto-nora. 
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E prontes, já sabem, desmedidamente e absolutamente felizes. Vá lá é só uma obrigação e não custa nada, e se fosse possível... transbordar e inundar o mundo com a felicidade era uma certeza que de o sorriso estaria na cara de todos nós.
Bom fim de semana pois então e obrigada pelas palavras carinhosas distribuídas no artigo colocado no andar de baixo. É por estas e por outras que daqui não 
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Faz hoje três anos que abri as portas ao meu humilde casebre.

Bem, a principio as portas estavam escancaradas e a entrada era livre, mas depois...mas depois vieram os anónimos, os que implicam, os que distribuem ódio, inveja e...houve necessidade de bater à porta.
Mas não foram todos os anónimos, alguns... já agora se fossem caçar "grilhos" era bom.  Uma que implicou comigo e ameaçava até os 
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 Sinopse

Um rapaz de oito anos, Bruno, é o protegido filho de um agente nazi cuja
 promoção leva a família a sair da sua confortável casa em Berlim para 
uma despovoada região onde Bruno não encontra nada para fazer nem 
ninguém com quem brincar. Esmagado pelo aborrecimento e traído pela 
curiosidade, Bruno ignora os constantes avisos da mãe para não explorar o
 jardim, por detrás da casa, e
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- Avó, sabes esta cantiga que aprendi hoje na escola? - pergunta a Pulga na hora do almoço enquanto desenhava.
Eu, que não estava olhando para ela nem para o desenho e, esperando ouvir uma cantiga da Shakira, da Jennifer Lopez ou da Adele, e que cantassem na aula de EEMD* sai-se ela com toda a nobreza que a cantiga merece e com todo o sentimento que consegue transmitir e, perdoai-me Senhor que 
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E é assim.
Mal os raios de sol despontam e aquecem, os meus pés fervem em sapatos fechados e o cheiro a chulé  é intenso (não, mentira). Vai daí é altura de pintar as unhas dos pés que as das mãos andam sempre a mexer em tudo, nem vale a pena me preocupar, mas a dos pés...

E prontes, ontem à noite, ementes via "o elo mais fraco" escancarei-me, acocorei-me, "escanchei-me" e deitei as mãos aos 
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Não me refiro ao filme com o mesmo nome, mas sim a uma proposta que recebi logo de manhã.
Atão não é que um rapazinho de dois anos e oito meses, de seu nome Gu-gu fez-me uma proposta ...que, infelizmente, tive de recusar.

Vou eu a caminho da casa de banho, podia ser a caminho de Viseu, mas não, foi mesmo a caminho da casinha e como quando tenho netos em casa (e o mê Gu-Gu está febril por isso 
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Toda a gente sabe que os homens são brutos
que deixam camas por fazer
e coisas por dizer...
roupa por apanhar...
nunca deixam a mesa  posta...

Mas os maridos das outras não.
Eles são a perfeição
fazem felizes as amigas da mulher

Tudo o que os homens não
o marido das outras são 

O que me dizem desta cantiga que passa sem parar nas rádios do nosso Portugal, letra, música e voz de Miguel Araújo
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 Mas o mês de Maio não é só mês das flores, mês de Maria, mês dos amores, mas também o mês do coração, da Europa.
Mas é sobretudo o mês dos jacarandás em flor. Sem dúvida alguma.
E por cá, no meu rural, há muitos a ladear as estradas. E estão em flor. Lindos. Como só o jacarandá sabe ser.

Fotografias: Tanto num dia com nuvens como num dia de céu límpido, como hoje (foto de cima) o  
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fUqcgVgSLfyorwYsbVfuyDjzBtE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fUqcgVgSLfyorwYsbVfuyDjzBtE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/hPSopWqp6yE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/mes-de-maio.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YCR387eyp7ImA9WhVUEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-2351299714299249137</id><published>2012-05-14T13:01:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-14T16:26:06.103+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-14T16:26:06.103+01:00</app:edited><title>E já é Verão?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/2351299714299249137/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=2351299714299249137&amp;isPopup=true" title="9 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/2351299714299249137?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/2351299714299249137?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/uygxpv2sKxU/e-ja-e-verao.html" title="E já é Verão?" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><thr:total>9</thr:total><content type="html">Mas que dias de sol e noites tão quentes. Eu que adoro o sol e o verão não sei se consigo aguentar muitos dias assim. É que nao saio da cadeira, do sofá digo; dá-me aquela moleza do caracol como quando estamos no Porto Santo, aquela pasmaceira entra e corrói o corpo e não nos deixa pensar. Fico prostrada  sem me mexer.

Mas o Senhor São Pedro vingou-se, ai sim, oura se foi. "Atão não queriam sol 
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Se há flores que não aprecio é esta mesmo: o antúrio. Não lhe acho piada alguma a este espeto, espádice ou espiga no ar! Gosto mais do colorido das folhas. No entanto é muito apreciado pelo turistas.  
Por cá (já contei  esta) havia um padre que ao receber estas flores, mandava logo cortar este espeto.
E porque seria? Devem estar a perguntar coçando o queixo em sinal de interrogação?
É que 
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Eu sou amante do (e no) Verão, por isso, vou participar neste desafio sob a forma de fotografia do meu espólio pessoal.
Tinha de participar! Porque além de amante do Verão assumo-me como amante de fotografia. E esta combinação é perfeita! Cá Outono, Primavera e Inverno!
Verão. Só a pronúncia do nome deixa-me com água na boca!
Parece-me que ele tem muitas amantes! Eu sou uma delas! Não me 
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A todos os que por aqui passam, desejo um fim de semana tão bom mas tão bom que dificilmente sairá do vosso pensamento para sempre. Aquele que ficará guardado na gaveta da memória como "o tal" em que tudo se concretizou.
Por isso sejam desalmadamente e escandalosamente felizes.
Bom fim de semana, pois então! E dizem que vai ser quente.

Fotografia: petúnias na janela da minha cozinha. Recebam 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jWHn2iXcyvNIGIpuxn2Uetw5PsU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jWHn2iXcyvNIGIpuxn2Uetw5PsU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jWHn2iXcyvNIGIpuxn2Uetw5PsU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jWHn2iXcyvNIGIpuxn2Uetw5PsU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/P7wMXKkvQoQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/fim-de-semana-pois-entao_11.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8HSXw_eyp7ImA9WhVVFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-7047117878116005989</id><published>2012-05-10T19:00:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-10T19:00:38.243+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-10T19:00:38.243+01:00</app:edited><title>Há quem queira ser um gatinho para ronronar...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/7047117878116005989/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=7047117878116005989&amp;isPopup=true" title="16 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/7047117878116005989?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/7047117878116005989?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/Huqmq8f0Hww/ha-quem-queira-ser-um-gatinho-para.html" title="Há quem queira ser um gatinho para ronronar..." /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><thr:total>16</thr:total><content type="html">...Há quem queira ser um passarinho para poder voar; há quem sonhe em ser uma pequena sereia para poder nadar no mar. Eu vou dizer a verdade.
O que eu queria era ser cadela, vaca ou cabra para poder dizer tudo o que está entalado na goela. É assim a modos que uma espinha atravessada que arranha arranha e...só arranha. Mas a gargantilha que trago aperta-me o gargalo. Por isso fica para outra 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/38HXzurVRwtR_W6vQ8IzspckLt4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/38HXzurVRwtR_W6vQ8IzspckLt4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/38HXzurVRwtR_W6vQ8IzspckLt4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/38HXzurVRwtR_W6vQ8IzspckLt4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/Huqmq8f0Hww" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/ha-quem-queira-ser-um-gatinho-para.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8FR34zfCp7ImA9WhVVFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-4764470750392228489</id><published>2012-05-10T00:51:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-10T00:56:56.084+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-10T00:56:56.084+01:00</app:edited><title>E hoje é quinta</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/4764470750392228489/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=4764470750392228489&amp;isPopup=true" title="15 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/4764470750392228489?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/4764470750392228489?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/Db2zAGjpkb8/e-hoje-e-quinta.html" title="E hoje é quinta" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CNV64OmaCco/T6sDyghV2fI/AAAAAAAAGTE/HeqNnJA9i4g/s72-c/0047.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>15</thr:total><content type="html">

Dia de deitar o totoloto, o euro-milhões, o joker, jogar no bicho, raspar a sorte, enfim, o diabo a cem a ver se enriqueço da forma mais rápida, que esta vida está assim pelas pelinhas.
E depois tenho um casamento. E quero estar bem apresentada, mas para isso preciso de mani (inglês).

Tenho de ganhar dinheiro ou fazer por ganhar e a maneira mais prática é acertar, (vou tentar, oquei?) nos 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6_hdbiLV1VIbKuWTNuYVVP4HWNc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6_hdbiLV1VIbKuWTNuYVVP4HWNc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/Db2zAGjpkb8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/e-hoje-e-quinta.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIGQ344eyp7ImA9WhVVFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-1822445276850860122</id><published>2012-05-09T14:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-09T19:18:42.033+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-09T19:18:42.033+01:00</app:edited><title>Há mais alguém ou sou peça única?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/1822445276850860122/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=1822445276850860122&amp;isPopup=true" title="23 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/1822445276850860122?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/1822445276850860122?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/j2BEC9w-yLQ/ha-mais-alguem-ou-sou-peca-unica.html" title="Há mais alguém ou sou peça única?" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jx48EzUYEd8/T5PiEvZJOWI/AAAAAAAAGLw/Ztry3WRUKCo/s72-c/tua.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>23</thr:total><content type="html">
Já vos aconteceu, depois de ler o postezinho de um blogue, ir para a caixa de comentários, escrever, escrever e tornar a escrever com tanta pressa porque as palavras saem da mente em catadupa, umas lindas frases, poéticas daquelas que saem lá do fundo; fechar os olhos, levantar a cabeça, sentir cada palavra.
Suspirar.
Do melhor que se consegue. Aquele momento de inspiração sem transpiração que 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NKsdrONCGGXVxnHegJUG33XF75Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NKsdrONCGGXVxnHegJUG33XF75Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/j2BEC9w-yLQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/ha-mais-alguem-ou-sou-peca-unica.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcMSH8-cSp7ImA9WhVVFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-5016391249235569168</id><published>2012-05-09T00:28:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-09T00:34:49.159+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-09T00:34:49.159+01:00</app:edited><title>E hoje...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/5016391249235569168/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=5016391249235569168&amp;isPopup=true" title="9 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/5016391249235569168?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/5016391249235569168?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/mH9iXF0w9gA/e-hoje.html" title="E hoje..." /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ThznpaYKX0o/T6mqHx_4XyI/AAAAAAAAGSI/ou3xUQ_omLQ/s72-c/titia.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>9</thr:total><content type="html">

...A tia-velha faria 87 anos se não tivesse sido chamada à presença do Senhor!

Lembro-me de uma frase que me dizia sempre que fazia uma asneira: Não me podes perdoar?
E nem acabava a frase e já fazia outra. 

"O perdão é o esquecimento completo e absoluto das ofensas, vem do 
coração, é sincero, generoso e não fere o amor próprio do ofensor. Não 
impõe condições humilhantes tampouco é motivado
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/llstFbKDxohdMZ0lTRhCXWx4R-4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/llstFbKDxohdMZ0lTRhCXWx4R-4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/mH9iXF0w9gA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/e-hoje.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8GRXgzeyp7ImA9WhVVFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-2388922304639898202</id><published>2012-05-08T20:20:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-08T20:20:24.683+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-08T20:20:24.683+01:00</app:edited><title>Eu e elas: As Serviçais</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/2388922304639898202/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=2388922304639898202&amp;isPopup=true" title="13 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/2388922304639898202?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/2388922304639898202?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/6gyDFVmqZAQ/eu-e-elas-as-servicais.html" title="Eu e elas: As Serviçais" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-agS-CHplm5g/T6lxWiJqnwI/AAAAAAAAGRY/uGpAqJyCBoQ/s72-c/as+servi%C3%A7ais.jpeg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>13</thr:total><content type="html">


E o canal TvCine passou na noite de anteontem o filme "As Serviçais" a uma hora bem do agrado de quem gosta de uma boa noite de filme, uma boa sessão de cinema: 2:50.

Hã? Como? Devem estar a perguntar. Exactamente às dez para as três da madrugada (como se diz por cá) ou como se diz no Continente às três menos dez. 

Ora, eu que a partir da meia-noite já não funciona muito bem, e por mais que 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-m8zaWD3wkHELB-Ib3otRTMaJwI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-m8zaWD3wkHELB-Ib3otRTMaJwI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-m8zaWD3wkHELB-Ib3otRTMaJwI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-m8zaWD3wkHELB-Ib3otRTMaJwI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/6gyDFVmqZAQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/eu-e-elas-as-servicais.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IMRH04eyp7ImA9WhVVFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-8625200959223831112</id><published>2012-05-08T16:35:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-08T16:39:45.333+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-08T16:39:45.333+01:00</app:edited><title>Anda o mestre a falar de despenseiro...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/8625200959223831112/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=8625200959223831112&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/8625200959223831112?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/8625200959223831112?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/0GeXVPNwWzQ/anda-o-mestre-falar-de-despenseiro.html" title="Anda o mestre a falar de despenseiro..." /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">...E ando eu a repetir a mesma palavra julgando estar correcta quando vou ao Priberam e ... não existe. Aliás, existe, mas não com a função que o mestre lhe dá.
 Ele chama "despenseiro" ao módulo para guardar as mercearias, utensílios de limpeza (pá, vassoura, esfregona...) ou ainda os produtos de higiene da cozinha.
E era despenseiro para aqui, despenseiro para ali, despenseiro para acolá e 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xGRmKgain64mLa6aaO9p-hDZ2gQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xGRmKgain64mLa6aaO9p-hDZ2gQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/0GeXVPNwWzQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/anda-o-mestre-falar-de-despenseiro.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4FQH4zeyp7ImA9WhVVFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-4967840075798352921</id><published>2012-05-07T19:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-07T19:05:11.083+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-07T19:05:11.083+01:00</app:edited><title>Verniz do dia</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/4967840075798352921/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=4967840075798352921&amp;isPopup=true" title="24 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/4967840075798352921?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/4967840075798352921?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/jbDVuuV_5go/verniz-do-dia.html" title="Verniz do dia" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VEA4RpUQ300/T6gNIzpC9NI/AAAAAAAAGRA/YXUhyJcc18c/s72-c/14.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>24</thr:total><content type="html">

Acabei de pintar as unhas com o verniz adquirido hoje. Não quis deixar de mostrar a última aquisição. Noto as unhas mais belas, suaves e com uma bela tonalidade. De terra.
A cor? Só podia ser a da moda: Ambiente. Unhas de fava é o nome do verniz.
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hEnwG495-oAp4HEfzAbq5oK2PW0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hEnwG495-oAp4HEfzAbq5oK2PW0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/jbDVuuV_5go" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/verniz-do-dia.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcDQ3g7eip7ImA9WhVVE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-6293515251088158880</id><published>2012-05-07T12:59:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-07T13:01:12.602+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-07T13:01:12.602+01:00</app:edited><title>E prontes!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/6293515251088158880/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=6293515251088158880&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/6293515251088158880?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/6293515251088158880?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/KwW-f9S-j4U/e-prontes.html" title="E prontes!" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">Acabou o dia da mãe! E nem vim cá desejar votos de venturas para as mães (como eu) e mães das mães (como eu).

E depois de ter recebido uma mensagem no telemóvel de alguém muito, mas muito especial, daqui da blogosfera a me perguntar se não escrevia nada, lá vim às carreiras; nem lavei as ramelas (também ela não as vê), não lavei o resto do meu corpo de sereia, e comássim ninguém vê as unhas 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/i-TmXFSFkQ5s9SMTpG8VIGBvIjo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/i-TmXFSFkQ5s9SMTpG8VIGBvIjo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/KwW-f9S-j4U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/e-prontes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIMQ3w9fSp7ImA9WhVVEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-124215514050983187</id><published>2012-05-05T15:19:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-05T15:19:42.265+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-05T15:19:42.265+01:00</app:edited><title>Fim de semana, pois então!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/124215514050983187/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=124215514050983187&amp;isPopup=true" title="14 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/124215514050983187?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/124215514050983187?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/gK6ks5yQV8w/fim-de-semana-pois-entao.html" title="Fim de semana, pois então!" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gl-gLMnRrRo/T6U2PYeda5I/AAAAAAAAGQY/vEN-F_rOWIw/s72-c/25.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>14</thr:total><content type="html">

E afastem-se de mim, estou possessa, tão possessa que nem o diabo se aproxima. Vou esganá-lo, vou cortá-lo às postas e deitar aos leões, vou...vou... é o que me apetece se pudesse! Se eu o visse.
Falo do tempo que tem feito.

Vou desabafar que não sou rapariga de ter espinhas na garganta. Ontem reguei as plantas e lavei-as pois ainda tinha restos de poeira, lavei quintal e benza-o Deus é grande
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XaG4LhtR6HMPeHYWdh4hGE2u54s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XaG4LhtR6HMPeHYWdh4hGE2u54s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/gK6ks5yQV8w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/fim-de-semana-pois-entao.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08CQnc_eyp7ImA9WhVVEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-6351124398049981865</id><published>2012-05-04T17:41:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-04T17:44:23.943+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-04T17:44:23.943+01:00</app:edited><title>Uma perguntinha</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/6351124398049981865/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=6351124398049981865&amp;isPopup=true" title="30 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/6351124398049981865?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/6351124398049981865?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/r-tP9PNkeYE/uma-perguntinha.html" title="Uma perguntinha" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GZkYlj9x1is/T6QGQDXWMHI/AAAAAAAAGPs/wrLKa5aS1-U/s72-c/106.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>30</thr:total><content type="html">

São das que levam um "listrinha" (como se diz por cá) na mão quando vão ao supermercado? E andam de um lado para o outro de papel e caneta na mão?
Ou são tão envergonhadas (falo no feminino, alguém contra?) que levam na cabeça?

Bem, agora vou falar por mim. Eu era assim, também levava na cabeça (e ainda levo, ai se levo!) depois passei a escrever num papel quando a cabeça já não dava para o 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4we0-jkpnUI7vxPyVhTRzY5cRb0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4we0-jkpnUI7vxPyVhTRzY5cRb0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/r-tP9PNkeYE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/uma-perguntinha.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0AHSH8zfip7ImA9WhVVEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-5673428397516997343</id><published>2012-05-03T20:52:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-03T21:08:59.186+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-03T21:08:59.186+01:00</app:edited><title>Eu não fui ao Pingo Doce</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/5673428397516997343/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=5673428397516997343&amp;isPopup=true" title="24 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/5673428397516997343?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/5673428397516997343?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/RKUNPNi725Y/blog-post.html" title="Eu não fui ao Pingo Doce" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zMw-otcxs70/T6LlTVpLB8I/AAAAAAAAGPc/DZBCgH0Rtbg/s72-c/24.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>24</thr:total><content type="html">

Aliás como podia eu com três Pulgas saltitantes? Se ainda me deixassem passar à frente por ter crianças não hesitaria e punha-me ao caminho.
Mas alguém foi por mim. A minha filha e genro. Foram e compraram a duplicar. Agradeço a eles. No fim, barcos lavados contas arrumadas. E vivó velho.
Por isso, ainda bem que há estas promoções. E se fazemos bicha por um par de sapatos a metade do preço, 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/arxg1VldpAlRKWKbIGZbpC-jBi0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/arxg1VldpAlRKWKbIGZbpC-jBi0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~4/RKUNPNi725Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://avogi.blogspot.com/2012/05/blog-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EERHs7eyp7ImA9WhVVEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30963595.post-2247158262824141250</id><published>2012-05-03T10:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2012-05-03T10:00:05.503+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-03T10:00:05.503+01:00</app:edited><title>E não me canso de falar na mulher do norte</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avogi.blogspot.com/feeds/2247158262824141250/comments/default" title="Enviar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30963595&amp;postID=2247158262824141250&amp;isPopup=true" title="27 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/2247158262824141250?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30963595/posts/default/2247158262824141250?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AvogiEAsPulgas/~3/F2LuCpQgAQA/e-nao-me-canso-de-falar-na-mulher-do.html" title="E não me canso de falar na mulher do norte" /><author><name>AvoGI</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03147522775503573236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--P1Y3SrQh8I/T3ZfFlMSxiI/AAAAAAAAGEA/1VclwQXymoI/s220/avogi.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DYS7KG1a7Rc/T6HPbOvnQ_I/AAAAAAAAGPE/uyrsG5_2Al0/s72-c/0060.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>27</thr:total><content type="html">

 A (projecto-)nora - a noiva veio com o bisalho - o noivo entregar os convites para o casamento (já disse ali em baixo). A minha filha fez anos e festejou-se no sábado passado (também disse). A cozinha brande neiú (inglês) foi inaugurada (também disse) só não disse que ela - a noiva, a nora, a mulher do norte arregaçou as mangas e, mesmo de férias, pôs-se a trabalhar para a festa.

A rapariga 
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