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<?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;C0INQX4yeSp7ImA9WhRRFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277</id><updated>2011-11-27T22:53:10.091-02:00</updated><category term="Eu quero" /><category term="Meu lado fashionista frustrado" /><category term="Eu finjo que estudo e vocês fingem que acreditam" /><category term="Tweets" /><category term="Dicas" /><category term="inUTILIDADE pública" /><category term="Saúde pra que te quero?" /><category term="Senta que lá vem a história" /><category term="Família" /><category term="Vicios" /><category term="Job" /><category term="Rir da vida faz bem..." /><title>Christine Martens</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>203</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/ChristineMartens" /><feedburner:info uri="christinemartens" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MCQns9fSp7ImA9WhZSGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-6842071171388051687</id><published>2011-04-04T16:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T16:31:03.565-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-04T16:31:03.565-03:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A maturidade do pessoal aqui do trabalho &lt;strike&gt;incluindo eu&lt;/strike&gt; anda tão alta que essa tarde rolou até uma guerra de bolinha de papel. Eu sou muito vesga/descordenada e nunca consigo acertar em ninguém. No intuíto de me ajudar, o coleguinha novo deu a ideia de fazer uma bazuca com a caneta e até fez uma bolinha pra mostrar como funcionava, só que a bolinha trancou e ele ficou ali tentando assoprar. #pobrecoleguinha&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/5790969464589574277-6842071171388051687?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5gf7tatPFKDEcDA7b7vABcSwOcM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5gf7tatPFKDEcDA7b7vABcSwOcM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/M3M_-RQfEX4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/86296169801815358/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/08/como-se-ja-nao-bastasse-ulbra-ter-pior.html#comment-form" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/86296169801815358?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/86296169801815358?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/M3M_-RQfEX4/como-se-ja-nao-bastasse-ulbra-ter-pior.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/08/como-se-ja-nao-bastasse-ulbra-ter-pior.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMFR3o_eip7ImA9Wx5RFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-4422844050641671351</id><published>2010-08-23T14:03:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T14:10:16.442-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-23T14:10:16.442-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Senta que lá vem a história" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Job" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rir da vida faz bem..." /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Vamos dizer que os personagens são os seguintes:&lt;br /&gt;Felizberta - a chefe;&lt;br /&gt;Pafuncia - funcionária A;&lt;br /&gt;Gertrudez - funcionária B que tem uma filha com problemas mentais;&lt;br /&gt;Godofreda - funcionária C&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pafuncia liga para o trabalho de Gertrudez, ela não está. Pafuncia deixa recado com Godofreda para que assim que Gertrudez chegar, dê retorno. No início da tarde Godofreda liga avisando que Gertrudez não virá ao trabalho, pois irá dar banho na filha (nenhum sentido!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando Felizberta chega e pergunta se Pafuncia já conseguiu falar com Gertrudez, esta lhe avisa que Gertrudez não virá pois ficará dando banho na filha (todos com cara de nenhum sentido).&lt;br /&gt;Felizberta says: Ué! Mas não dá pra mandar pro PETSHOP??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&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/5790969464589574277-4422844050641671351?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cybSYIKeXeFl3Z736ExaSv2FND0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cybSYIKeXeFl3Z736ExaSv2FND0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/pgzbfFHkf0Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/4422844050641671351/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/08/vamos-dizer-que-os-personagens-sao-os.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/4422844050641671351?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/4422844050641671351?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/pgzbfFHkf0Y/vamos-dizer-que-os-personagens-sao-os.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/08/vamos-dizer-que-os-personagens-sao-os.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUNR3g6fSp7ImA9Wx5SGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-5367214560001949089</id><published>2010-08-16T12:55:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T12:58:16.615-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-16T12:58:16.615-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rir da vida faz bem..." /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Família" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Minha mãe foi convidada para assistir um desfile de uma loja aqui de Gravataí.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Seria tudo muito normal se o desfile não fosse de &lt;em&gt;lingerie&lt;/em&gt; e depois não tivesse uma palestra com um sexologo ensinando massagem erótica!&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/5790969464589574277-5367214560001949089?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B6G8OI3ywbP257pCPM-6w2Zhp94/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B6G8OI3ywbP257pCPM-6w2Zhp94/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B6G8OI3ywbP257pCPM-6w2Zhp94/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B6G8OI3ywbP257pCPM-6w2Zhp94/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/EgC-hRuT8JM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/5367214560001949089/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/08/minha-mae-foi-convidada-para-assistir.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/5367214560001949089?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/5367214560001949089?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/EgC-hRuT8JM/minha-mae-foi-convidada-para-assistir.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/08/minha-mae-foi-convidada-para-assistir.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UEQng6fyp7ImA9Wx5TFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-4947005768598802419</id><published>2010-07-30T16:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T16:46:43.617-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-30T16:46:43.617-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Job" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rir da vida faz bem..." /><title>Azar? Capaaaaaaaaaaaz!</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Tenho duas noticias, uma boa e uma má.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A boa é que nao trabalharei com o pessoal do gabinete no dia da eleição.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A má é que trabalharei de MESÁRIA no dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Enfim, nas duas eu ia me fuder igual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Vi no twitter que meu amigo conseguiu comprar ingresso pro show do Green Day por R$ 68,00. Liguei pro Ingresso Show pra comprar também e...tinha acabado a promoção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Viu Beretta, tu pode até tentar, mas ninguém JAMAIS será mais azarada que eu!&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/5790969464589574277-4947005768598802419?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QqU_3G6dHpI_evCcVR0So46pJYg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QqU_3G6dHpI_evCcVR0So46pJYg/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/QqU_3G6dHpI_evCcVR0So46pJYg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QqU_3G6dHpI_evCcVR0So46pJYg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/O2UAwZqhQUY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/4947005768598802419/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/07/azar-capaaaaaaaaaaaz.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/4947005768598802419?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/4947005768598802419?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/O2UAwZqhQUY/azar-capaaaaaaaaaaaz.html" title="Azar? Capaaaaaaaaaaaz!" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/07/azar-capaaaaaaaaaaaz.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08BRH88fSp7ImA9WxFaGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-5838133972998026218</id><published>2010-07-22T17:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T17:50:55.175-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-22T17:50:55.175-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rir da vida faz bem..." /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Minha professora do CFC é bem engraçada. Ela passa a aula toda fazendo piadinhas com estilo &lt;em&gt;stand up&lt;/em&gt;. Todo mundo estava rindo até que ela resolveu mostrar o video do anão andando de moto na Free Way e fez piadinhas de humor negro. Até ai tudo bem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;se não tivesse um anão na minha turma.&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/5790969464589574277-5838133972998026218?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/s05VErUn-w95cBwgByi2RExOmD0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/s05VErUn-w95cBwgByi2RExOmD0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/s05VErUn-w95cBwgByi2RExOmD0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/s05VErUn-w95cBwgByi2RExOmD0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/GBG0Uhmhf2U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/5838133972998026218/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/07/minha-professora-do-cfc-e-bem-engracada.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/5838133972998026218?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/5838133972998026218?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/GBG0Uhmhf2U/minha-professora-do-cfc-e-bem-engracada.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/07/minha-professora-do-cfc-e-bem-engracada.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcFRHk6eyp7ImA9WxFaF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-1317594109076535028</id><published>2010-07-21T17:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T17:10:15.713-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-21T17:10:15.713-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Senta que lá vem a história" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Job" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Eu finjo que estudo e vocês fingem que acreditam" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;O post de hoje é cheio de coisas aleatórias, já que fiquei um bom tempo sem postar nada e tenho vários assuntos micro pendentes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Ok, eu sei que estava sumida, mas é que o meu pc aqui do job não estava querendo me deixar postar, o que de certa forma foi bom, por que eu ia sair falando umas boas verdades aqui, que no fim das contas não eram assim tão necessárias, por que afinal cada uma dá a sua periquita para quantos quiser na semana né? (sinta a ironia, eis que não concordo com isso).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Mas enfim, aqui estou eu alegre e saltitante, de férias até hoje (Y), por que amanha começam as queridas aulas teóricas da auto escola, as 8 da manhã. O que quer dizer que meu bom humor acabará exatamente as 7:00 da manhã de amanha, quando levanterei da cama&amp;nbsp;no friiio para ver aqueles videos traumatizantes (como se eu já não tivesse traumatizada o suficiente né?).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Uma novidade boa é que agora eu posso ouvir Jack Johnson, Ben Harper, Donavon e afins e, bem, digamos que meu coração não acelera e nem para, ele fica ali, normalzinho na dele, sem lembrar de ninguém.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Também não contei que passei nas 4 cadeiras que eu estava fazendo no semestre passado e desejo um tico para quem disse que eu não iria conseguir fazer 6&amp;nbsp;cadeiras no próximo, já que eu não conseguiria passar nas 4&amp;nbsp;(Y).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Na madrugada de quinta pra sexta, que teoricamente já é sexta, mas né, explica isso pro meu corpo que quer dormir, enfim, acordarei as 3 da manhã pra ir pra Riveira &lt;strike&gt;comprar muamba&lt;/strike&gt; passear um pouco e sair da rotina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Ahh, pra variar peguei uma puta gripe, mas isso já não é mais novidade, por que como disse a Iara, eu inicio a gripe em março e vou até novembro (Y).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Ufa, acho que era isso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&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/5790969464589574277-1317594109076535028?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H7AqSqRMz6HVz2lF5s6fMKl6bR4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H7AqSqRMz6HVz2lF5s6fMKl6bR4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H7AqSqRMz6HVz2lF5s6fMKl6bR4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H7AqSqRMz6HVz2lF5s6fMKl6bR4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/3S_azupQb6k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/1317594109076535028/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/07/o-post-de-hoje-e-cheio-de-coisas.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/1317594109076535028?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/1317594109076535028?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/3S_azupQb6k/o-post-de-hoje-e-cheio-de-coisas.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/07/o-post-de-hoje-e-cheio-de-coisas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UBRH0_cSp7ImA9WxFUF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-1408961696035236352</id><published>2010-06-28T13:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T13:07:35.349-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-28T13:07:35.349-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Job" /><title>Sobre a chuva no nordeste...</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Diálo entre os meus colegas:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;- Viu a chuvarada que tá caindo no nordeste? Alagou tuuudo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;- Mas não viviam reclamando que não chovia lá? Agora aproveita e toma banho, bebe água. Já faz um poço e guarda água!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Humor negro, a gente vê por aqui! hsiuahsahshsiashi&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/5790969464589574277-1408961696035236352?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f6dUQpdZB7NVTYtDpIoq0TM5o5E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f6dUQpdZB7NVTYtDpIoq0TM5o5E/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/f6dUQpdZB7NVTYtDpIoq0TM5o5E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f6dUQpdZB7NVTYtDpIoq0TM5o5E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/E_EsXXtR3p0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/1408961696035236352/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/sobre-chuva-no-nordeste.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/1408961696035236352?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/1408961696035236352?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/E_EsXXtR3p0/sobre-chuva-no-nordeste.html" title="Sobre a chuva no nordeste..." /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/sobre-chuva-no-nordeste.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08ESXY_fip7ImA9WxFUFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-3984060584993483928</id><published>2010-06-25T14:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T14:10:08.846-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-25T14:10:08.846-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Job" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Legal é assistir o jogo do Brasil, tomar dois litros de Patrícia, depois vir trabalhar e teu colega perguntar se eu estou "bebinha".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Legal também é que eu descobri que quando eu estou meio alcoolizada eu fico meio surda, então meus colegas estão falando comigo e eu fico só rindo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;É lindo de ver!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;PS: Joguinho de várzea esse de hoje heinhô batista!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/5790969464589574277-3984060584993483928?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/20Jj4ouBPfY5mgkFltYz_DCGsWE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/20Jj4ouBPfY5mgkFltYz_DCGsWE/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/20Jj4ouBPfY5mgkFltYz_DCGsWE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/20Jj4ouBPfY5mgkFltYz_DCGsWE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/QP_h0Gc4IOI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/3984060584993483928/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/legal-e-assistir-o-jogo-do-brasil-tomar.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/3984060584993483928?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/3984060584993483928?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/QP_h0Gc4IOI/legal-e-assistir-o-jogo-do-brasil-tomar.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/legal-e-assistir-o-jogo-do-brasil-tomar.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcMSH4yeCp7ImA9WxFVGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-5194198715799410360</id><published>2010-06-18T17:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T17:31:29.090-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-18T17:31:29.090-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Job" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rir da vida faz bem..." /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Sabe quando a gente come, mas cooooooooooome tanto que fica se sentindo uma baleia orca encalhada na areia? Pois então, eu estou me sentindo assim hoje. Almocei muiiiiiiiito.&amp;nbsp;A Iara trouxe uma rapadura com 1.500 kcal. Comi um brigadeirão e um branquinhozão. Ai fiquei mal e comi uma maçã pra ver se melhorava. Como hoje é sexta, a Dra. resolveu nos pagar um lanche, uma torrada tripla com tudo que se tem direito + lata de refrigerante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Moral da história: Oi, meu nome hoje&amp;nbsp;é Willy Martens.&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/5790969464589574277-5194198715799410360?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hCe9OCSbTOocb5eN_HGgJYdmscQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hCe9OCSbTOocb5eN_HGgJYdmscQ/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/hCe9OCSbTOocb5eN_HGgJYdmscQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hCe9OCSbTOocb5eN_HGgJYdmscQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/Ie-CgA4d0vM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/5194198715799410360/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/sabe-quando-gente-come-mas.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/5194198715799410360?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/5194198715799410360?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/Ie-CgA4d0vM/sabe-quando-gente-come-mas.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/sabe-quando-gente-come-mas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UHQ34zeyp7ImA9WxFVFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-4150194074735715287</id><published>2010-06-14T16:25:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T12:20:32.083-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-15T12:20:32.083-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Job" /><title>Tribunal de Injustiça</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Se tem uma "coisa" que me irrita, essa coisa é o Tribunal de "Justiça" do Rio Grande do Sul. Me irrita por que de justo ele não tem NADA! Me fizeram trabalhar quase TRÊS meses de graça dizendo que eu iria receber por esses dias trabalhados, não recebi nem um "muito obrigado por trabalhar feito uma idiota de graça esses meses", não recebi nem&amp;nbsp;em dias de folga. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Agora eles decidiram que o Forum vai fechar no horário dos jogos da Seleção Brasileira. Quem trabalha de tarde tem que trabalhar&amp;nbsp;de manhã até as 14:30 e depois estará liberado.&amp;nbsp;Oba, belezinha heim. NOT. Eu ESTUDO de manhã e não tenho como vir trabalhar, por que não sou Deus para estar em todos os lugares ao mesmo tempo, aí eles ainda tem a cara de pau de perguntar "Mas tu não tem como faltar a aula pra vir trabalhar esses dias?", claro que posso, afinal, algumas aulas de Direito Penal não vão me fazer falta mesmo né... HA HA HAAAAAAAAAA! Acho que isso foi uma piada né? Estou rindo LITROS no momento! ¬¬&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Eles vão descontar esses dias do meu salário. Pergunta se eles vão descontar dos juizes? Não, só dos &lt;strike&gt;escravos &lt;/strike&gt;estagiários.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Eu tô torcendo pro Brasil PERDER, perder de 5x0 pra Coréia do&amp;nbsp;Norte e que essa bosta de Copa do Mundo acabe de uma vez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Dalhe Coréia do Norte!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;UPDATE:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Fui falar com a chefe pra saber direitinho como ia ficar essa história dos horários e tals...Sabe o que ela me disse? "Eu não vou me sujar com o TJ pra estagiário receber." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Me enrolar por três meses dizendo que eu ia receber pelo trabalho pode né? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Minha vontade nesse momento era ir lá no TJ e mostrar a efetividade dos meses que eu trabalhei sem receber, assinadas por ela, mostrar que ela e a querida direção fizeram exatamente o que o TJ proibiu,&amp;nbsp;que estagiários trabalhassem &amp;nbsp;sem contrato e&amp;nbsp;sem salário, conhecido há uns anos como trabalho escravo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Odeio que mexam no meu dinheiro. Humfff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/5790969464589574277-4150194074735715287?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bV4d4a4Uqe8aLQMGmJetDRpG51o/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bV4d4a4Uqe8aLQMGmJetDRpG51o/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/bV4d4a4Uqe8aLQMGmJetDRpG51o/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bV4d4a4Uqe8aLQMGmJetDRpG51o/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/KGBlVBxPoeg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/4150194074735715287/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/tribunal-de-injustica.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/4150194074735715287?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/4150194074735715287?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/KGBlVBxPoeg/tribunal-de-injustica.html" title="Tribunal de Injustiça" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/tribunal-de-injustica.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AGRHc8eSp7ImA9WxFVEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-3187381070985264787</id><published>2010-06-10T14:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T14:42:05.971-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-10T14:42:05.971-03:00</app:edited><title>Não fale comigo hoje!</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Se você pensa que já teve um dia ruim, calma que sempre vai ter um pra superar. Ninguém sabe, mas todos os dias eu tenho a mesma vontade quando acordo e quando vou dormir, morrer. "Aí que horror blablabla wiskas sachê", foda-se quem pensa assim, vocês não tem a minha vida. Vamos entender a situação:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;1º fucking fato da minha fucking life: Meus pais não programavam ter filhos, minha mãe era idiota demais para tomar uma droga de anticoncepcional por que ela nunca gostou&amp;nbsp;de tomar remédio, meu pai não gostava de usar camisinha e então ela engravidou (capaaaaz que isso ia acontecer né?). Aí ou invez de fazer um aborto (muito peso na consciência depois) eles me fizeram nascer. Mesmo depois que eu nasci eles não planejaram criar uma filha, não pensaram no futuro dela como todos os pais com um cerebro fazem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;2º fucking fato da minha fucking life: Depois que eu acabei o 2º grau, naquele colégio horrível que não ensinava nada &lt;strike&gt;além da vida do crime&lt;/strike&gt;, comecei a estudar Direito, aí vocês devem estar pensando "Viu, tu reclama, mas eles te pagam a faculdade!", pois eles não pagam, por que se não fosse POR MIM ter ido bem na bosta do ENEM, hoje eu não estaria na faculdade, estaria em casa coçando, por que meus pais não se planejaram para pagar uma faculdade, pelo menos não para mim né, por que meu pai tem dois filhos do primeiro casamento, uma guria retardada e um guri maconheiro, que estudaram em um dos melhores colégios particulares de Porto Alegre, meu pai pagava faculdade pra ele, mas ficar na praça fumando maconha era mais interessante né, ele ganhou carteira, ganhou carro, mas resolveu que ia ser legal voltar chapadão de Floripa e andar na contra-mao até bater no carro de uma mulher e deixar ela com problemas na coluna até hoje. By the way, ele é sustentado pelo meu pai e a mãe dele até hoje, fica em casa fumando maconha, comendo chocolate, vendo tv, vai pro Marinha andar de Skt quando dá vontade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;3º fucking fato da minha fucking life: Depois que qualquer pessoa faz 18 anos, a primeira coisa que ela quer fazer é tirar a carteira, que os pais com cerebro também se prepararam para pagar, mas não, eu tinha que ter pais sem cerebro né, então to com 20 anos e não tirei a porra da carteira ainda, aí eu ainda tenho que ficar ouvindo todo mundo na minha volta falando sobre as aulas na auto escola, de como é legal fazer aulas práticas e blablabla e ainda ter que dizer "que legal", pensando na verdade "que legal, enfia no cu a porra da carteira!". Carro então, nem pensar né, meu pai já gastou dinheiro demais com o maconheiro pra sobrar alguma coisa pra idiota que vos fala.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;4º fucking fato da minha fucking life: Além de meus pais não terem se preparado financeiramente, por que era mais legal gastar tudo em noitadas pagando cerveja pra quem eles nem conheciam do que guardar pro meu futuro, eles não fazem a minima questão de se importar com o meu bem estar. Eu saiu de casa as 7:30 da manhã pra ir pra faculdade e só volto as 19:30 do trabalho. Nos dias que eu resolvo matar aula pra dormir até mais tarde, não consigo dormir, por que eles adoram ficar falando alto, derrubando coisas e tudo que for possível pra fazer barulho. Pra minha mãe custa muito me levar pro trabalho de carro&amp;nbsp;as vezes, ela prefere me fazer andar de onibus lotado estando podre de gripe, com salto alto e carregando uns 30kg na bolsa, tudo isso por que tem uma porra de um bolo de cenoura no forno que não pode queimar. Por que o bolo deve ser mais legal que eu né, só pode.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;E se vocês estão pensando que eu estou sendo rude demais, é por que&amp;nbsp;vocês não sabem tudo que eu tive que passar hoje, se soubessem&amp;nbsp;vocês pensariam igual o pessoal aqui do Gabinete, que meus pais são uns baita PNC!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;É, eu tô revoltada hoje, então não fale comigo e nem chegue perto!&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/5790969464589574277-3187381070985264787?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ANg4C9wtUckpToOjS4TjSxLmOc4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ANg4C9wtUckpToOjS4TjSxLmOc4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ANg4C9wtUckpToOjS4TjSxLmOc4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ANg4C9wtUckpToOjS4TjSxLmOc4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/CACYDU1JFAk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/3187381070985264787/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/nao-fale-comigo-hoje.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/3187381070985264787?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/3187381070985264787?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/CACYDU1JFAk/nao-fale-comigo-hoje.html" title="Não fale comigo hoje!" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/nao-fale-comigo-hoje.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMDRnk4eCp7ImA9WxFWFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-4110100148871740143</id><published>2010-06-04T14:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T14:27:57.730-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-04T14:27:57.730-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Senta que lá vem a história" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;No feriado minha internet resolveu não funcionar. Liguei pra Oi e eles ficaram de mandar um técnico em até 24 horas. Não levei muita fé, visto que da última vez as 24 horas deles foram na verdade 72 horas ou mais. Aí meu namorado foi lá e arrumou minha internet, que só precisava resetar o modem e configurar de novo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Hoje eu já tinha esquecido do tal técnico quando, de manhã, ele aparece lá em casa. Minha mãe me acorda, umas 3 vezes, eu levantei escabelada e com a cara amassada e com a minha camisola dos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://thenullset.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/animaniacs1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Looney Tunes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Acho que por culpa da minha camisola o cara não me levou muito a sério e achou que eu não estivesse entendendo o que ele estava falando, aí ele resolveu que tinha que explicar todo o processo&amp;nbsp;como se eu fosse uma retardada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Comecei bem a sexta-feira.&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/5790969464589574277-4110100148871740143?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fJi7bp6ADNXZSElLbaAnXgdehLY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fJi7bp6ADNXZSElLbaAnXgdehLY/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/fJi7bp6ADNXZSElLbaAnXgdehLY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fJi7bp6ADNXZSElLbaAnXgdehLY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/40jQ87XXtnY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/4110100148871740143/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/no-feriado-minha-internet-resolveu-nao.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/4110100148871740143?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/4110100148871740143?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/40jQ87XXtnY/no-feriado-minha-internet-resolveu-nao.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/06/no-feriado-minha-internet-resolveu-nao.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cDSX07eCp7ImA9WxFWE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-1012847430367049652</id><published>2010-05-31T15:03:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T15:04:38.300-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-31T15:04:38.300-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Senta que lá vem a história" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Job" /><title>Pra começar bem (mal) a semana...</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Aí que o prefeito de Glorinha (oi, onde fica essa fucking city?) foi deposto e como lá não tem Comarca, o Forum onde eu trabalho é o responsável pelos problemas de lá, já que a minha chefe também é Juiza Eleitoral. Como o prefeito foi deposto vai ter que ser feita uma nova eleição pra escolher outro cara pra ocupar o lugar e blábláblá. Marcaram a data da nova eleição pro dia 11 de julho, que é o dia da final da copa. Até aí nada demais, se eu não tivesse que trabalhar no dia da eleição!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Aí volta aquela minha velha revolta de ter que trabalhar de graça em um domingo, que agora eu descubro que serão dois (valeu prefeito, se te encontrar na rua te enfio um baby liss ligado no c*), em plena final de copa do mundo!!! Isso se a nossa seleção chegar na final né...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Cadê o patriotismo, cadê?&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/5790969464589574277-1012847430367049652?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H6847_ITjzhIBl_a0z9mXHtlZcA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H6847_ITjzhIBl_a0z9mXHtlZcA/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/H6847_ITjzhIBl_a0z9mXHtlZcA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H6847_ITjzhIBl_a0z9mXHtlZcA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/5gxp4E6d1t4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/1012847430367049652/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/pra-comecar-bem-mal-semana.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/1012847430367049652?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/1012847430367049652?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/5gxp4E6d1t4/pra-comecar-bem-mal-semana.html" title="Pra começar bem (mal) a semana..." /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/pra-comecar-bem-mal-semana.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMCRXY7fip7ImA9WxFXGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-3727096970932116434</id><published>2010-05-26T16:33:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T13:07:44.806-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-27T13:07:44.806-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Senta que lá vem a história" /><title>Alpino Fast?</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_408DY425PX4/S_6YU-uoz1I/AAAAAAAAAcc/IOIuyavoG34/s1600/alpino.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" height="301" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_408DY425PX4/S_6YU-uoz1I/AAAAAAAAAcc/IOIuyavoG34/s400/alpino.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Aí que em uma bela tarde de sol eu resolvi comprar um Alpino Fast, por que aquela garrafinha douradinha e com o desenho dos bombons é irresistível né? Abri, tomei e tcharam...não tinha gosto de Alpino nem de longe, tava mais pra um Nescau bem fraquinho! Fora o preço que é bem sem vergonha né, paguei R$3,80 por uma garrafinha de 280ml. Tem noção que com R$5,00 eu compro uma caixa de leite e uma latinha de Nescau e tomo "bebida achocolatada" até enjoar? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_408DY425PX4/S_6YckUFxgI/AAAAAAAAAck/AqSyPZgup5M/s1600/alpino_fast_garrafa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_408DY425PX4/S_6YckUFxgI/AAAAAAAAAck/AqSyPZgup5M/s320/alpino_fast_garrafa.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Do lado da embalagem, em letras minúsculas, diz que a imagem é meramente ilustrativa e que a bebida não contém chocolate Alpino. Oi? Então pra que colocar o mesmo nome e fotos do bombom? Pra enganar os trouxas dos compradores minha gente! Fiquei muito de carinha com a Nestlé depois dessa, eu até estava relevando aquela caixa de bombom que só vem porcaria, mas depois dessa vou começar a boicotar a Nestlé =/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_408DY425PX4/S_6YjIBJq4I/AAAAAAAAAcs/ZFWuDcWJp_Q/s1600/alpino_fast_sem_alpino.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_408DY425PX4/S_6YjIBJq4I/AAAAAAAAAcs/ZFWuDcWJp_Q/s320/alpino_fast_sem_alpino.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/5790969464589574277-3727096970932116434?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UR5KwAQk8PV4LZzdwMEd7mOaEnc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UR5KwAQk8PV4LZzdwMEd7mOaEnc/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/UR5KwAQk8PV4LZzdwMEd7mOaEnc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UR5KwAQk8PV4LZzdwMEd7mOaEnc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/WsLjMra6S_M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/3727096970932116434/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/em-breve-aqui-um-post-revoltado-sobre.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/3727096970932116434?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/3727096970932116434?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/WsLjMra6S_M/em-breve-aqui-um-post-revoltado-sobre.html" title="Alpino Fast?" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_408DY425PX4/S_6YU-uoz1I/AAAAAAAAAcc/IOIuyavoG34/s72-c/alpino.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/em-breve-aqui-um-post-revoltado-sobre.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAARng6cCp7ImA9WxFXF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-1363056347659821054</id><published>2010-05-24T10:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T10:45:47.618-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-24T10:45:47.618-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tweets" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Cheguei a conclusão que eu preciso de um blog anônimo. Por que se eu escrever as coisas que eu penso sobre algumas pessoas, elas ligam pra minha mãe. Lamentável...&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/5790969464589574277-1363056347659821054?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y--My7l6l1YV4Vi27asbQFPbq54/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y--My7l6l1YV4Vi27asbQFPbq54/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y--My7l6l1YV4Vi27asbQFPbq54/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y--My7l6l1YV4Vi27asbQFPbq54/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/2TdnILHWn4M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/1363056347659821054/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/cheguei-conclusao-que-eu-preciso-de-um.html#comment-form" title="6 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/1363056347659821054?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/1363056347659821054?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/2TdnILHWn4M/cheguei-conclusao-que-eu-preciso-de-um.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/cheguei-conclusao-que-eu-preciso-de-um.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMFSHo7eip7ImA9WxFXEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-7822156610918855968</id><published>2010-05-17T14:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T14:46:59.402-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-17T14:46:59.402-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Senta que lá vem a história" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inUTILIDADE pública" /><title>W Hall, never again!</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Aí que sexta eu e boyfriend resolvemos sair pra uma festa, chamei a Duda pra ir junto (parceria master, por que ela ia se mudar no dia seguinte as OITO da manhã!). Decidimos ir na W Hall, lugar pertinho e pelo que eu me lembrava (não que eu me lembre de muita coisa, já que nas vezes que eu fui tive que sair carregada, detalhe, enfim.) um lugar bom para ir. Era festa da W + festa dos formandos da Administração da Ulbra + festa da Academia Corpo Ativo. No flyer tinha um Dj desconhecido (pelo menos para mim.) e o André Carazzo (que eu ouvi falar que era bom).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Chegando lá o lugar estava bem cheinho, poderia ter ficado daquele jeito que tava bom, mas não, tinha que chegar mais gente né! Lá pelas tantas não dava para se mexer lá dentro! Tentamos relevar a lotação e tals, mas aí o Dj resolveu cagar com tudo! TUDO MESMO! Por que pelo que eu sabia, nas sextas-feiras tocava house na W e por isso eles se intitulavam de &lt;em&gt;Top House Club, &lt;/em&gt;só que devem ter esquecido de avisar isso pro Dj, por que ele resolveu tocar &lt;em&gt;I Got a Felling&lt;/em&gt; e &lt;em&gt;Single Ladies&lt;/em&gt; em versão reggae e pegou um dos meus house's preferidos e colocou uma nordestina cantando algo do tipo "café, futebol, carnaval..."! Nessa hora a minha vontade era enfiar um &lt;em&gt;baby liss&lt;/em&gt; ligado no c* do Dj!!! Mas né, me contive, fui pro pub e me sentei, contando as horas para trocar de Dj. Lá pelas tantas troca o Dj e surge o cara que tinha me vendido os ingressos, este mesmo cara,&amp;nbsp;amigo da minha amiga, falou que ia me trovar na festa e que eu iria largar meu namorado para ficar com ele, oi? Como se já não bastasse o cara se achar a última &lt;em&gt;Chocolicia &lt;/em&gt;do pacote, ele ainda era o bicho da goiaba desenhado! Só sei que lá pelas tantas o cara sumiu e nos deixou em paz. Amém.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Como aqui é Gravataí, do nada aparece uma Pampacat semi nua &lt;strike&gt;e com 3 litros de silicone em cada ÚBERE &lt;/strike&gt;desfilando na pista como se fosse a rainha da cocada preta. Na festa tinham uns fotógrafos, só que eram contratados pelos formandos pra fazer toda aquela baboseira de formatura e tals, só que a &lt;em&gt;prosti&lt;/em&gt; não sabia disso e passou boa parte da festa rebolando na frente dos fotógrafos pra ver se conseguia alguns flash's...FAIL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Só sei que eu nunca mais volto naquele lugar!&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/5790969464589574277-7822156610918855968?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iRiWOwFiA51A3lgGLOsN_S2KqRM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iRiWOwFiA51A3lgGLOsN_S2KqRM/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/iRiWOwFiA51A3lgGLOsN_S2KqRM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iRiWOwFiA51A3lgGLOsN_S2KqRM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/Z1_f15HQ6ZI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/7822156610918855968/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/w-hall-never-again.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/7822156610918855968?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/7822156610918855968?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/Z1_f15HQ6ZI/w-hall-never-again.html" title="W Hall, never again!" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/w-hall-never-again.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYHSHw8fCp7ImA9WxFQEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-6842923821443193963</id><published>2010-05-07T14:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T14:08:59.274-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-07T14:08:59.274-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inUTILIDADE pública" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Acho que o contador do meu blog surtou, por que ontem eu tinha 2017 visitas e hoje tem 2888.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Por que né, impossível meu blog ser tão visitado, minha vida não é tão interessante assim, não é mesmo!&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/5790969464589574277-6842923821443193963?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3POl0zwjaPCkodE_OsYMl6mlxbg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3POl0zwjaPCkodE_OsYMl6mlxbg/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/3POl0zwjaPCkodE_OsYMl6mlxbg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3POl0zwjaPCkodE_OsYMl6mlxbg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/0tphOY5nAlg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/6842923821443193963/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/acho-que-o-contador-do-meu-blog-surtou.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/6842923821443193963?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/6842923821443193963?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/0tphOY5nAlg/acho-que-o-contador-do-meu-blog-surtou.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/acho-que-o-contador-do-meu-blog-surtou.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4HRng_eSp7ImA9WxFQEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-6768020243084076908</id><published>2010-05-06T14:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T14:45:37.641-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-06T14:45:37.641-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inUTILIDADE pública" /><title>Na cama, no sofá, na mesa da cozinha...</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Pedro me ligou pra saber o que era esse tal de "Na cama, no sofá, na mesa da cozinha" que todas as mulheres estão colocando no orkut!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;- Se tu nao contar vou ficar de cara! Vou ficar de cara!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;- Nao posso contar, tenta descobrir sozinho! hahahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Menos de cinco minutos depois ele me liga dizendo que achou a resposta no orkut, que uma guria mongol colocou como resposta em um fórum!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Depois quando chamam as mulheres de focoqueiras elas ainda ficam bravas! Humpff!&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/5790969464589574277-6768020243084076908?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J_QWQ4FChVWLvIfK1jWthx6mgxk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J_QWQ4FChVWLvIfK1jWthx6mgxk/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/J_QWQ4FChVWLvIfK1jWthx6mgxk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J_QWQ4FChVWLvIfK1jWthx6mgxk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/SWxovvFdevY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/6768020243084076908/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/na-cama-no-sofa-na-mesa-da-cozinha.html#comment-form" title="8 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/6768020243084076908?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/6768020243084076908?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/SWxovvFdevY/na-cama-no-sofa-na-mesa-da-cozinha.html" title="Na cama, no sofá, na mesa da cozinha..." /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>8</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/na-cama-no-sofa-na-mesa-da-cozinha.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cDSHwzfip7ImA9WxFQEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-6964091832663221779</id><published>2010-05-06T13:57:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T13:57:59.286-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-06T13:57:59.286-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rir da vida faz bem..." /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inUTILIDADE pública" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Por que aqui no Gabinete todo mundo é muito fino e os dialógos são sempre com muita educação.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;P. -Mas tu tá bem larguinho, com uma cara de lua cheia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;L. -Que tu quer falando com essa bunda de CAGAR em caixa d'água!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Uma fineza só!&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/5790969464589574277-6964091832663221779?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dIWLh8EfZToaVVmzzMsWxbhhnEg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dIWLh8EfZToaVVmzzMsWxbhhnEg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/UEwxOBeEAYU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/6964091832663221779/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/por-que-aqui-no-gabinete-todo-mundo-e.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/6964091832663221779?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/6964091832663221779?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/UEwxOBeEAYU/por-que-aqui-no-gabinete-todo-mundo-e.html" title="" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/por-que-aqui-no-gabinete-todo-mundo-e.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEMRngzcCp7ImA9WxFRGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-786242793627478477</id><published>2010-05-04T15:43:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T15:44:47.688-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-04T15:44:47.688-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Senta que lá vem a história" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Meu lado fashionista frustrado" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dicas" /><title>Blog novo!!!</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;De tanto ouvir que eu deveria mudar meu curso pra Designer de Moda, coisa que eu nao irei fazer, resolvi pelo menos fazer um blog direcionado a isso! Aqui nesse eu já estava colocando umas coisinhas relacionadas a moda na tag "Meu lado fashionhista frustrado", mas agora decidi ter um blog só pra essas coisinhas! Lá você irá encontrar dicas de moda que vão desde cores de esmaltes a últimas tendências em chapéus! Espero que vocês gostem, visitem e comentem bastante! hihi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;TendênciasPontoCom&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://tendenciaspontocom.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://tendenciaspontocom.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;Ainda falta fazer um layout bonitinho e tals, mas o tempo está bem curto nos últimos dias, mas com calma tudo se ajeita =)&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/5790969464589574277-786242793627478477?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u14rEJYsa3yyR4NU4_0Tromvjtw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u14rEJYsa3yyR4NU4_0Tromvjtw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~4/oV0nrdVPXC8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/feeds/786242793627478477/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-novo.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/786242793627478477?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5790969464589574277/posts/default/786242793627478477?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChristineMartens/~3/oV0nrdVPXC8/blog-novo.html" title="Blog novo!!!" /><author><name>Chris Martens</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l_pZi-GBA-I/TV114rQDNmI/AAAAAAAAAok/3V5MadWb4Mk/s220/DSC_1327%252520copyfff.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://christinemartens.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-novo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIFRXY9fip7ImA9WxFRGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5790969464589574277.post-3519445500459543615</id><published>2010-05-03T14:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T14:08:34.866-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-03T14:08:34.866-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Senta que lá vem a história" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;As vezes eu uso o blog pra desabafar e hoje é o dia pra isso!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Sabe aquele quadro do Fantástico em que um "negociador" tenta resolver problemas em algum condominio? Pois bem, estamos precisando de um desses lá na Pvcity, por que assim, que meu vizinho da frente nao trabalhava com bom senso, isso eu já sabia, mas que ele nao trabalhava com educação, aí foi a novidade do final de semana.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Lá algumas ruas sao estreitas e meu portao abre pra fora, aí que pra entrar com o carro tem que "abrir" uma curvinha e entrar, pra sair é quase a mesma coisa. Sendo assim, se tiver um carro estacionado milimétricamente na frente do meu portão, a entrada fica muito trabalhosa ou impossível. Depois de pedir 289647926146346134637 de vezes pro vizinho, por favor, nao estacionar o carro ali, visto que ele tem uma garagem e que a rua é extensa, ele resolveu que não, não&amp;nbsp;era uma boa ideia fazer isso, por que afinal, política da boa vizinhança pra que quando a gente pode ser uma mula né? Aí meus pais desistiram e começaram a deixar o carro na rua. Ontem o novo dono do terreno chegou e também nao conseguiu entrar com o carro no portao, aí ele foi perguntar pro meu pai se aquilo era sempre assim e tal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;(nesse momento eu corto nomes e personagens e passo para o que interessa).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;O querido vizinho veio &lt;strike&gt;soltar as patas&lt;/strike&gt; falar comigo dizendo que da próxima vez era para o novo dono ir falar com ele, que ele com toda a sua &lt;strike&gt;falta de&lt;/strike&gt; educação ia falar pra ele arrancar aquele portao que ele colocou errado (nesse momento eu respondo enfurecida que quem tinha colocado o portao era o meu pai), que ele nao tinha a minima obrigação de nao estacionar o carro ali (educação tbm nao tem né?), que pra nao conseguir colocar ou tirar o carro dali é só quem comprou a carteira (nesse momento vcs podem imaginar labaredas saindo dos meus olhos!!!) e que na vez que a minha mae (de muiiiita raiva por ja ter falado 8937231 vzs) estacionou o carro bem na frente do portao deles ele só nao mandou chamar um guincho por consideração a mim (nesse momento eu falei que da proxima vez ele poderia fazer isso, já que isso seria menos trabalhoso para ele do que estacionar a porra do carro um metro pra frente!!!). A minha vontade era dizer umas belas verdades, mas mamae me ensinou a ser educada, coisa que deve ter faltado pra ele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Pra completar, ainda tive que ouvir o seguinte: Se tua mae tivesse feito as aulas direitinho na auto escola...VAI TOMAR BEM NO MEIO DO TEU CU (sorry&amp;nbsp; momy, perdi a educação), bom motorista é tu que consegue capotar o carro na estradinha do condominio, consegue tomar 3 multas e perder a carteira, fora as multas na carteira do meu pai!!! Pega todo esse teu lado de ótimo motorista e enfia beeeeeeem lá! Mas a coisa nao termina por ai meus amigos, ele colocou a culpa até no meu cachorro!!! Por que quando a gente nao tem com o que se defender até o cachorro vira um &lt;strike&gt;péssimo&lt;/strike&gt; argumento né...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Só sei que eu nao tenho paciencia com esse tipo de gente. Não tenho mesmo. Dá próxima vez que quiser vir &lt;strike&gt;soltar as patas&lt;/strike&gt; conversar cmg, favor estar sóbrio e apresentar bons argumentos! Grata.&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/5790969464589574277-3519445500459543615?l=christinemartens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Não satisfeita, ela volta uns cinco minutos depois.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;- Ninguém vai voltar hj?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;- Não! A I. tá no hospital com o pai dela que tá doente, a Dra. foi no tribunal e o L. trabalhou de manhã hj.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;- Tem coisa urgente!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;- (silêncio e cara de QUE DIABOS EU TENHO COM ISSO?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Ela fez a mesma cara de antes, saiu e bateu a porta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Agora me diz, o que essa mulher queria que eu fizesse? Ligasse pra chefe e dissesse pra ela &lt;strike&gt;parar de fazer compras no shopping&lt;/strike&gt; sair do Tribunal e voltar pq a querida E. tinha coisas urgentes pra ela? Me poupe né!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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