<?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:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUHSX48fCp7ImA9WxNbEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147</id><updated>2009-11-14T17:33:58.074-02:00</updated><title>Q SE FLOG</title><subtitle type="html">Literatura, arte, poesias, contos, crônicas e bom humor.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>QSEFLOG</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>99</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/QSeFlog" type="application/atom+xml" /><feedburner:browserFriendly></feedburner:browserFriendly><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4NRns9cSp7ImA9WxNbEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-7555156841598399827</id><published>2009-11-13T16:42:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T16:46:37.569-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-13T16:46:37.569-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tirinhas do Protágoras" /><title>Tirinhas: Romanos</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sv2odK2CFPI/AAAAAAAAAu4/4mIyLis7zhc/s1600-h/tirinhas_romanos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sv2odK2CFPI/AAAAAAAAAu4/4mIyLis7zhc/s640/tirinhas_romanos.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Com participação do meu amigo &lt;a href="http://umblogdefuria.blogspot.com/"&gt;Игорь&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-7555156841598399827?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/7555156841598399827/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=7555156841598399827&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/7555156841598399827?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/7555156841598399827?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/11/tirinhas-romanos.html" title="Tirinhas: Romanos" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sv2odK2CFPI/AAAAAAAAAu4/4mIyLis7zhc/s72-c/tirinhas_romanos.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08FQXczeSp7ImA9WxNbEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-1862656958626033655</id><published>2009-11-12T21:08:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T10:36:50.981-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-13T10:36:50.981-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa e Verso do Frank" /><title>Tag Cloud Desanimada</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #660000; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Clique na imagem para ampliar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sv1SFBiNKHI/AAAAAAAAAuw/bdvy7jb15uw/s1600-h/Tag-Cloud-Desanimada.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sv1SFBiNKHI/AAAAAAAAAuw/bdvy7jb15uw/s320/Tag-Cloud-Desanimada.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7394396224639113147-1862656958626033655?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/1862656958626033655/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=1862656958626033655&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/1862656958626033655?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/1862656958626033655?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/11/tag-cloud-desanimada.html" title="Tag Cloud Desanimada" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sv1SFBiNKHI/AAAAAAAAAuw/bdvy7jb15uw/s72-c/Tag-Cloud-Desanimada.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMERXs_fCp7ImA9WxNUGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-7299536009192385792</id><published>2009-11-11T14:51:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T14:53:24.544-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-11T14:53:24.544-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tirinhas do Protágoras" /><title>Tirinhas: Tecnologia</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SvrrgSkR2qI/AAAAAAAAAug/lsmJ4qkmSBU/s1600-h/tirinhas_mzn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SvrrgSkR2qI/AAAAAAAAAug/lsmJ4qkmSBU/s400/tirinhas_mzn.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7394396224639113147-7299536009192385792?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/7299536009192385792/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=7299536009192385792&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/7299536009192385792?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/7299536009192385792?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/11/tirinhas-tecnologia.html" title="Tirinhas: Tecnologia" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SvrrgSkR2qI/AAAAAAAAAug/lsmJ4qkmSBU/s72-c/tirinhas_mzn.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEERHg-eCp7ImA9WxNUGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-1336340913050066867</id><published>2009-11-11T13:32:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T13:33:25.650-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-11T13:33:25.650-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Meus Autores Favoritos" /><title>Bienal</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="cor_2" id="cabecalho"&gt;&lt;small&gt;Composição: Zeca Baleiro / Zé Ramalho&lt;/small&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VttGCJ_rq5U&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VttGCJ_rq5U&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Desmaterializando a obra de arte do fim do milênio&lt;br /&gt;
Faço um quadro com moléculas de hidrogênio&lt;br /&gt;
Fios de pentelho de um velho armênio&lt;br /&gt;
Cuspe de mosca, pão dormido, asa de barata torta&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meu conceito parece, à primeira vista,&lt;br /&gt;
Um barrococó figurativo neo-expressionista&lt;br /&gt;
Com pitadas de arte nouveau pós-surrealista&lt;br /&gt;
calcado da revalorização da natureza morta&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Minha mãe certa vez disse-me um dia,&lt;br /&gt;
Vendo minha obra exposta na galeria,&lt;br /&gt;
"Meu filho, isso é mais estranho que o cu da jia&lt;br /&gt;
E muito mais feio que um hipopótamo insone"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Pra entender um trabalho tão moderno&lt;br /&gt;
É preciso ler o segundo caderno,&lt;br /&gt;
Calcular o produto bruto interno,&lt;br /&gt;
Multiplicar pelo valor das contas de água, luz e telefone,&lt;br /&gt;
Rodopiando na fúria do ciclone,&lt;br /&gt;
Reinvento o céu e o inferno&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Minha mãe não entendeu o subtexto&lt;br /&gt;
Da arte desmaterializada no presente contexto&lt;br /&gt;
Reciclando o lixo lá do cesto&lt;br /&gt;
Chego a um resultado estético bacana&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Com a graça de Deus e Basquiat&lt;br /&gt;
Nova York, me espere que eu vou já&lt;br /&gt;
Picharei com dendê de vatapá&lt;br /&gt;
Uma psicodélica baiana&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Misturarei anáguas de viúva&lt;br /&gt;
Com tampinhas de pepsi e fanta uva&lt;br /&gt;
Um penico com água da última chuva,&lt;br /&gt;
Ampolas de injeção de penicilina&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Desmaterializando a matéria&lt;br /&gt;
Com a arte pulsando na artéria&lt;br /&gt;
Boto fogo no gelo da Sibéria&lt;br /&gt;
Faço até cair neve em Teresina&lt;br /&gt;
Com o clarão do raio da silibrina&lt;br /&gt;
Desintegro o poder da bactéria&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Com o clarão do raio da silibrina&lt;br /&gt;
Desintegro o poder da bactéria&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-1336340913050066867?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/1336340913050066867/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=1336340913050066867&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/1336340913050066867?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/1336340913050066867?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/11/bienal.html" title="Bienal" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAARH0zeSp7ImA9WxNUFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-2188673942376558745</id><published>2009-11-05T13:39:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T13:59:05.381-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-05T13:59:05.381-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tirinhas do Protágoras" /><title>Tirinhas: O presente</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SvL2M-vxSSI/AAAAAAAAAuY/7uRPVkOxV4Q/s1600-h/tirinhas_presente.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SvL2M-vxSSI/AAAAAAAAAuY/7uRPVkOxV4Q/s640/tirinhas_presente.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7394396224639113147-2188673942376558745?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/2188673942376558745/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=2188673942376558745&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2188673942376558745?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2188673942376558745?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/11/tirinhas-o-presente.html" title="Tirinhas: O presente" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SvL2M-vxSSI/AAAAAAAAAuY/7uRPVkOxV4Q/s72-c/tirinhas_presente.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkANRH4zeip7ImA9WxNVEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-3694434424580676788</id><published>2009-10-20T14:06:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T14:06:35.082-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-20T14:06:35.082-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tirinhas do Protágoras" /><title>Enquanto isso numa rua escura</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/St3f-2RQoII/AAAAAAAAAt4/2K5COmsP4EI/s1600-h/tirinhas_rua.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/St3f-2RQoII/AAAAAAAAAt4/2K5COmsP4EI/s400/tirinhas_rua.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7394396224639113147-3694434424580676788?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/3694434424580676788/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=3694434424580676788&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/3694434424580676788?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/3694434424580676788?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/10/enquanto-isso-numa-rua-escura.html" title="Enquanto isso numa rua escura" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/St3f-2RQoII/AAAAAAAAAt4/2K5COmsP4EI/s72-c/tirinhas_rua.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUBQng6cCp7ImA9WxNXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-327776194302466442</id><published>2009-10-01T13:22:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T13:24:13.618-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T13:24:13.618-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Meus Autores Favoritos" /><title>Feitio de oração</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SsTWpQpaRRI/AAAAAAAAAtg/MQ60_SSkSDc/s1600-h/trapezista.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SsTWpQpaRRI/AAAAAAAAAtg/MQ60_SSkSDc/s320/trapezista.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;ó garrafada das ervas maceradas do breu das brenhas&lt;br /&gt;
se adonai de mim e do meu peito lacerado&lt;br /&gt;
ó senhora dos remédios&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ó doce dona&lt;br /&gt;
ó chá&lt;br /&gt;
ó ungüento&lt;br /&gt;
ó destilado&lt;br /&gt;
ó camomila&lt;br /&gt;
ó belladona&lt;br /&gt;
ó phármakon&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
respingai grossas&lt;br /&gt;
gotas de vossos venenos&lt;br /&gt;
ó doce dona&lt;br /&gt;
ó camomila&lt;br /&gt;
ó belladona&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
serenai minhas irremediáveis pupilas dilatadas&lt;br /&gt;
ó senhora dos sem remédios&lt;br /&gt;
domai as minhas brutas ânsias acrobáticas&lt;br /&gt;
que suspensas piruetam pânicas nas janelas do caos&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
se desprendem dos trapézios&lt;br /&gt;
e, tontas, buscam o abraço fraterno e solidário dos espaços vácuos&lt;br /&gt;
ó garrafada das maceradas ervas do breu das brenhas&lt;br /&gt;
adonai-vos do peito lacerado e do lenho oco que ocupo.&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b style="color: #660000;"&gt;Wally Salomão&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&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/7394396224639113147-327776194302466442?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/327776194302466442/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=327776194302466442&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/327776194302466442?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/327776194302466442?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/10/feitio-de-oracao.html" title="Feitio de oração" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SsTWpQpaRRI/AAAAAAAAAtg/MQ60_SSkSDc/s72-c/trapezista.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIDSX05eyp7ImA9WxNXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-7493643689299284693</id><published>2009-09-25T16:02:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T14:19:38.323-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T14:19:38.323-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa e Verso do Frank" /><title>Das coisas não ditas</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Recuso-me a fazer parte&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;desta verdade constituída&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;que me polui e nos olhos arde&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;O meu não é o mesmo mundo que o teu&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;não faremos a mesma dança para a morte&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;nem será o mesmo paraíso o teu e o meu&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sonambulando pelo mundo real&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;no espelho um lampejo de verdade&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;antes de reencontrar-me com o banal&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Encontrarei um lugar só meu&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;onde poderei existir&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;ser mais do que apenas eu&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Minha vida é uma breve fuga da rotina&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;mas nem por isso nas veias o sangue me aglutina.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;por Frank Saiu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&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/7394396224639113147-7493643689299284693?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/7493643689299284693/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=7493643689299284693&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/7493643689299284693?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/7493643689299284693?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/09/das-coisas-nao-ditas.html" title="Das coisas não ditas" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4FSX47eCp7ImA9WxNQGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-2091603473505232458</id><published>2009-09-25T15:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T15:55:18.000-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-25T15:55:18.000-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tirinhas do Protágoras" /><title>Tirinhas</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sr0RiD25OzI/AAAAAAAAAtA/bqyR2a_yfhk/s1600-h/tirinhas_etica72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sr0RiD25OzI/AAAAAAAAAtA/bqyR2a_yfhk/s400/tirinhas_etica72.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sr0R45Lmu7I/AAAAAAAAAtI/RkL7w8zD3RM/s1600-h/tirinhas_deus72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sr0R45Lmu7I/AAAAAAAAAtI/RkL7w8zD3RM/s400/tirinhas_deus72.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-2091603473505232458?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/2091603473505232458/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=2091603473505232458&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2091603473505232458?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2091603473505232458?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/09/tirinhas.html" title="Tirinhas" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sr0RiD25OzI/AAAAAAAAAtA/bqyR2a_yfhk/s72-c/tirinhas_etica72.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4ASHw8eSp7ImA9WxNQGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-4470229894197522817</id><published>2009-09-21T14:02:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T15:55:49.271-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-25T15:55:49.271-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Publicações" /><title>Publicações</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="color: #660000; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Filosofia e Política&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Andréa Lobo / Rafael Zanlorenzi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;ilustrações: Felipe Grosso - Editora Aymará - Curitiba, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SreuD100NyI/AAAAAAAAAsM/Y9tD_FmHTQg/s1600-h/Filosofia+e+Pol%C3%ADtica+2009+CAPA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SreuD100NyI/AAAAAAAAAsM/Y9tD_FmHTQg/s320/Filosofia+e+Pol%C3%ADtica+2009+CAPA.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SreuG0h8FcI/AAAAAAAAAsU/rPWixTaWRwc/s1600-h/Filosofia+e+Pol%C3%ADtica+2009+PG+41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SreuG0h8FcI/AAAAAAAAAsU/rPWixTaWRwc/s400/Filosofia+e+Pol%C3%ADtica+2009+PG+41.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SrezbdNhbrI/AAAAAAAAAsc/8hKi7JZkY5M/s1600-h/Filosofia+e+Pol%C3%ADtica+2009+CAPA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/search/label/Tirinhas%20do%20Prot%C3%A1goras"&gt;Clique aqui para ler as outras tirinhas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/search/label/Tirinhas%20do%20Prot%C3%A1goras"&gt;&lt;/a&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/7394396224639113147-4470229894197522817?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/4470229894197522817/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=4470229894197522817&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/4470229894197522817?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/4470229894197522817?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/09/publicacoes.html" title="Publicações" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SreuD100NyI/AAAAAAAAAsM/Y9tD_FmHTQg/s72-c/Filosofia+e+Pol%C3%ADtica+2009+CAPA.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAASHo-fip7ImA9WxNXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-516375036197693579</id><published>2009-09-17T11:12:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T14:22:29.456-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T14:22:29.456-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa e Verso do Frank" /><title>Decálogo do cartão vermelho</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Aos que vendem a chave do Paraíso,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;aos que nada fazem senão por egoísmo&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;e aos que não devolvem um sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Aos que são contra a liberdade,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;aos que desprezam a igualdade&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;e aos que matam por uma nacionalidade.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Aos que sofrem da doença dos preconceitos,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;aos que dizem "isso não tem jeito"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;e aos que pensam ter mais direitos.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Por fim na sequência,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;aos que só vivem de aparência.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Haja paciência.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="color: #660000; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;por Frank Saiu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Tarefa encomendada pelo amigo &lt;a href="http://altavolt.blogspot.com/"&gt;Altavolt&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Repasso para o &lt;a href="http://umblogdefuria.blogspot.com/"&gt;Игорь&lt;/a&gt; e para &lt;a href="http://jornalismosl.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jôice do Jornalismo SL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-516375036197693579?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/516375036197693579/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=516375036197693579&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/516375036197693579?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/516375036197693579?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/09/decalogo-do-cartao-vermelho.html" title="Decálogo do cartão vermelho" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUADQXs-eSp7ImA9WxNXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-5775151437479482134</id><published>2009-09-11T10:56:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T14:22:50.551-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T14:22:50.551-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa e Verso do Frank" /><title>Ao vento</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SqpWu-beLYI/AAAAAAAAAsE/PpQFNWUqYpU/s1600-h/vento.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SqpWu-beLYI/AAAAAAAAAsE/PpQFNWUqYpU/s320/vento.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fui semeado ao vento&lt;br /&gt;
nele criei profunda raiz&lt;br /&gt;
desapareço num momento&lt;br /&gt;
termino estirado em qualquer país&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sinto solidão quando acompanhado&lt;br /&gt;
pois este não é o mundo&lt;br /&gt;
ao qual fui acostumado&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
De volta a estaca zero&lt;br /&gt;
sei bem quem eu sou&lt;br /&gt;
e melhor o que não quero&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sou chegado da dúvida e da dívida&lt;br /&gt;
e tudo o que conheci não é capaz&lt;br /&gt;
de elucidar esta vida lívida.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #660000;"&gt;por Frank Saiu&lt;/b&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/7394396224639113147-5775151437479482134?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/5775151437479482134/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=5775151437479482134&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/5775151437479482134?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/5775151437479482134?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/09/ao-vento.html" title="Ao vento" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SqpWu-beLYI/AAAAAAAAAsE/PpQFNWUqYpU/s72-c/vento.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIGSXY7fip7ImA9WxNREEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-2652970548897896442</id><published>2009-09-04T15:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T15:55:28.806-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-04T15:55:28.806-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Meus Autores Favoritos" /><title>Polaco da Barreirinha</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;gente que é gente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;chora a toda hora&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;não faz como eu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;que estou rindo agora&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;gente que é gente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;ri por qualquer motivo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;nem parece eu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;que choro de aperitivo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;gente que é gente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;faz drama por qualquer coisinha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;não é como eu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;que cheguei ao fim da linha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;gente que é gente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;morre de medo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;não sabe como eu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;que a morte não tem segredo&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://polacodabarreirinha.wordpress.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;polaco da barreirinha&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&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/7394396224639113147-2652970548897896442?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/2652970548897896442/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=2652970548897896442&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2652970548897896442?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2652970548897896442?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/09/polaco-da-barreirinha.html" title="Polaco da Barreirinha" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4ESHwzfyp7ImA9WxNREEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-7542837367474540584</id><published>2009-09-04T14:48:00.011-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T15:11:49.287-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-04T15:11:49.287-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Meus Autores Favoritos" /><title>Doce Primavera</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SqFQEo7sZsI/AAAAAAAAAr8/DEBxwMdlKJM/s1600-h/636604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SqFQEo7sZsI/AAAAAAAAAr8/DEBxwMdlKJM/s320/636604.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Tento sobreviver às longas tardes de inverno&lt;br /&gt;
que assombram minha alma.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Olho ao redor, tudo parace tão frio e sem vida.&lt;br /&gt;
O soprar do vento transforma-se em canção.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lembro das doces manhãs de primavera,&lt;br /&gt;
do perfume delicado das flores de laranjeira.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Recordo-me do do teu olhar atento&lt;br /&gt;
a cada movimento à sua volta.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me vem à mente a doce imagem do seu sorriso,&lt;br /&gt;
sempre tão puro, tão sincero.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rezo para que este inverno passe logo e que no romper da aurora eu me depare novamente com a doçura das manhãs de primavera.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Espero que as flores de laranjeira ainda exalem seu delicado perfume, que seus olhos estejam esperando atentos a minha presença e que seu sorriso permaneça sempre puro e sincero.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;por Flor de Laranjeira&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-7542837367474540584?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/7542837367474540584/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=7542837367474540584&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/7542837367474540584?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/7542837367474540584?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/09/doce-primavera.html" title="Doce Primavera" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SqFQEo7sZsI/AAAAAAAAAr8/DEBxwMdlKJM/s72-c/636604.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUANQXk7eip7ImA9WxNXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-2595554431472277524</id><published>2009-08-17T13:55:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T14:23:10.702-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T14:23:10.702-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa e Verso do Frank" /><title>Microconto: Dúvida cruel</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SomXsKzT8PI/AAAAAAAAArU/Ns_LdJ0yESg/s1600-h/bike.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370990815685636338" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SomXsKzT8PI/AAAAAAAAArU/Ns_LdJ0yESg/s320/bike.gif" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 47px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 47px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Não sabia se casava ou comprava uma bicicleta. Casou e agora anuncia no jornal: Troco marido usado por bike seminova, aberta a propostas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-2595554431472277524?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/2595554431472277524/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=2595554431472277524&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2595554431472277524?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2595554431472277524?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/08/microconto-duvida-cruel.html" title="Microconto: Dúvida cruel" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SomXsKzT8PI/AAAAAAAAArU/Ns_LdJ0yESg/s72-c/bike.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8ESH88fCp7ImA9WxNXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-3042136817299465848</id><published>2009-07-30T14:39:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T14:23:29.174-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T14:23:29.174-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa e Verso do Frank" /><title>Microconto: Guerra Fria</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SnHcq1rfq1I/AAAAAAAAArM/ZG6aouYhpVk/s1600-h/Counter-Strike+1.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364311259697097554" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SnHcq1rfq1I/AAAAAAAAArM/ZG6aouYhpVk/s200/Counter-Strike+1.gif" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 38px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 38px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A guerra estourou, passaram meses em confrontos diários e sem tréguas. Isto começou a afetar todas as outras áreas da economia à cama.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-3042136817299465848?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/3042136817299465848/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=3042136817299465848&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/3042136817299465848?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/3042136817299465848?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/07/microconto-guerra-fria.html" title="Microconto: Guerra Fria" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SnHcq1rfq1I/AAAAAAAAArM/ZG6aouYhpVk/s72-c/Counter-Strike+1.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8GSXk-eyp7ImA9WxNXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-2902065201941590341</id><published>2009-07-29T15:21:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T14:23:48.753-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T14:23:48.753-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa e Verso do Frank" /><title>Microconto: Giro de 360 graus</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SnCUONS4y3I/AAAAAAAAAq8/kIajvEylB3U/s1600-h/icon_couch_yes.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363950128006220658" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SnCUONS4y3I/AAAAAAAAAq8/kIajvEylB3U/s400/icon_couch_yes.gif" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 35px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 35px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Em casa cedo e sóbrio viu que a mulher era a causa de seu alcoolismo. Separou-se e comemorou no bar. Voltou de madrugada e dormiu no sofá.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-2902065201941590341?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/2902065201941590341/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=2902065201941590341&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2902065201941590341?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2902065201941590341?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/07/microconto-giro-de-360-graus.html" title="Microconto: Giro de 360 graus" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SnCUONS4y3I/AAAAAAAAAq8/kIajvEylB3U/s72-c/icon_couch_yes.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MBR3Y6eCp7ImA9WxJaE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-1366093221103698489</id><published>2009-07-25T16:05:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T16:57:36.810-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-03T16:57:36.810-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cartas de Obimiribi" /><title>Cartas de Obimiribi 4</title><content type="html">"Amigo Sr. Frank,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fizemos um ótimo negócio! Veio aqui um homem querendo comprar o ilha. Ele ofereceu um kitnet para todo nosso povo viver no civilização e ainda pagar um barco para nosso transporte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu pai se reuniu com os sábio da aldeia e eles que não são bobas acharam pouco e resolveram exigir também dois espelhos grandes para serem colocados um de frente com o outro, um ioiô vermelho (que não fosse de time de futebol), um cesta cheia de comida e uma garrafão com água.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um semana depois o homem voltou com tudo que pedimos. Muito felizes nós amarramos o homem e o piloto do barco e os deixamos em um outro ilha menor e desabitado com o cesta de comida e a garrafão de água. Espero que ele tenha caprichado no cesta ou não vão durar muito por lá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obrigado por avisar que o Sr. Gripe Suína virá nos visitar, se puder venha junto Sr. Frank, pois já estamos preparando um grande festa para recebê-los.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que o Grande Zaranduva coloque tantas ovelhas&lt;br /&gt;em seu apartamento como existem estrelas no céu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obimiribi."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/search/label/Cartas%20de%20Obimiribi"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clique aqui e leia as outras cartas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2008/12/cartas-de-obimiribi-1.html"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/01/cartas-de-obimiribi-2.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-1366093221103698489?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/1366093221103698489/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=1366093221103698489&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/1366093221103698489?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/1366093221103698489?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/05/cartas-de-obimiribi-4.html" title="Cartas de Obimiribi 4" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8BRH45fCp7ImA9WxNXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-6525082144232148941</id><published>2009-07-24T11:25:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T14:24:15.024-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T14:24:15.024-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa e Verso do Frank" /><title>O Casamento do Príncipe Lourenço</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SmnfxW6W_vI/AAAAAAAAAp0/rAGt_ckU2Zk/s1600-h/machiavelli.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362062870418226930" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SmnfxW6W_vI/AAAAAAAAAp0/rAGt_ckU2Zk/s400/machiavelli.gif" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 268px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 203px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Certa vez o Príncipe Lourenço, após derrotar os inimigos e conquistar meio mundo, sentiu um grande vazio interior e resolveu consultar seu grande conselheiro Maquiavel, que após obter grande sucesso com palestras motivacionais e consultorias agora aproveitava todas as maravilhas que o dinheiro podia comprar e dedicava-se apenas ao desenvolvimento de jogos pedagógicos para crianças até 3 anos.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Mestre Maquiavel - disse o príncipe - Depois de todas as conquistas, às quais agradeço-lhe muito, sinto que devo enfrentar um desafio maior e, para tanto, desejo casar-me, mas não encontrei referências em tua grandiosa obra... Tens algum conselho para esta feita?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Poderia sugerir-lhe tomar como esposa alguma princesa de um dos reinos por ti conquistados, meu jovem Lourenço, mas isso poderia acarretar algum desentendimento com os outros reinos. Para prevenir tal infortúnio, tu terias que refazer o fichamento e estudar novamente meu livro "O Príncipe". Assim sendo sugiro que escolha alguma plebéia deste mesmo reino.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Mestre Maquiavel, continua com o mesmo brilhantismo de quando o conheci anos atrás, mas como saberei reconhecer a mulher apropriada?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Caríssimo Lourenço, é muito simples, tudo o que tens a fazer é mandar encher 3 sacos com arroz e esconder um diamante em cada um. Entregue cada saco a uma moça que lhe agrade e peça que lhe prepare um almoço. Depois venha a mim que eu o ajudarei a decidir.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Assim fez o Príncipe Lourenço, distribuiu os sacos de arroz, almoçou cada dia na casa de uma das moças e no quarto dia voltou a ter com o conselheiro.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Mestre Maquiavel, fiz como me sugeriu e por resultado a primeira moça preparou o almoço, mas nada falou sobre o diamante.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Pois então assim vemos que esta é uma moça muito egoísta. Não vai reconhecer a tua generosidade e nem ocupar-se do teu bem estar... Como foi com a segunda?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Ah mestre, foi diferente, ela recebeu-me muito bem e feliz foi logo dizendo-me que encontrou o diamante e mostrou-me o anel que havia mandado fazer com ele.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Pois então assim vemos que esta é uma moça muito vaidosa. Vai exigir cada vez mais de ti para inflar o orgulho próprio e vai querer aparecer mais do que ti.... Como foi com a terceira?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Surpreendente, mestre, quando cheguei havia um grande banquete com arroz, carnes, legumes  e um ótimo vinho. Perguntei como havia conseguido tudo aquilo, fingindo ignorar a pedra. Ela explicou que o havia encontrado e penhorado, com o dinheiro comprou tudo e depois cobrou uma moeda de ouro das outras moças da vila para ensinar a preparar as receitas. Com o dinheiro ainda recuperou o diamante.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Pois então assim vemos que esta é uma moça muito ambiciosa. Terá que ficar de olhos abertos com ela, e se pois um dia resolver separar-se, esta levará até tuas calças.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Mas mesrte, eu não entendo... fizemos tudo isso para nada???&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Meu jovem Lourenço, se quiser uma mulher perfeita compre uma Barbie... Agora que conhecemos o caráter das três e sabes com o que terá de enfrentar é muito simples:  escolha a mais gostosa!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-6525082144232148941?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/6525082144232148941/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=6525082144232148941&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/6525082144232148941?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/6525082144232148941?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-casamento-do-principe-lourenco.html" title="O Casamento do Príncipe Lourenço" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SmnfxW6W_vI/AAAAAAAAAp0/rAGt_ckU2Zk/s72-c/machiavelli.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8DRXoycSp7ImA9WxNXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-2427508832489492387</id><published>2009-07-23T12:04:00.011-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T14:24:34.499-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T14:24:34.499-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa e Verso do Frank" /><title>A lógica do azar</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SmjDimpEkaI/AAAAAAAAAps/f2QZwJNJG2s/s1600-h/sexta-13.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361750355640357282" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SmjDimpEkaI/AAAAAAAAAps/f2QZwJNJG2s/s400/sexta-13.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 199px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 157px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;O garoto saiu do apartamento apressado como sempre a caminho do trabalho utilizando o automóvel do pai. Naquele misto de pressa e sono o que deu foi o carro no muro da garagem e sem condições de andar na rua. Teve que estacionar novamente, avisar o pai e ouvir um sermão, perdendo mais quase uma hora...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Chegou no trabalho e o chefe fez cara feia, chamou o garoto no fim da tarde e disse que  já havia conversado e feito vista grossa  aos atrasos, mas que hoje ele havia abusado: estava demitido. O garoto ficou atordoado, mas sabendo que não tinha razão, apenas agradeceu, pegou suas coisas e saiu para pegar o ônibus para casa. Apenas um dia ruim que em breve terminaria - pensou - afinal o que mais podia dar errado?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Entrou no ônibus cheio e sem lugar para sentar... No percurso o ônibus foi enchendo, uma morena chegou esbarrando e parou em sua frente, trazendo-o devolta à realidade. Sentiu o perfume dos cabelos e o corpo macio da morena a cada movimento do ônibus. Sentiu que a sorte&lt;br /&gt;
havia voltado ao seu lado e teve certeza quando a morena deu sinal para descer virou-se e perguntou: você quer vir comigo?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ele desceu atrás dela e foram caminhando enquanto ela falava: tenho que entregar um documento logo ali, mas você me espera na esquina, não posso ser vista com você! Ele concordou e assim fizeram. Ficou observando o corpo da morena até ela entrar em um prédio no meio do quarteirão.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Esperou quinze...vinte minutos e começou a se preocupar, mas não ia sair dali por nada...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- O que você está fazendo aqui parado? - perguntou um dos dois policiais que haviam chegado ao seu lado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Nada não - respondeu meio atrapalhado - só estou esperando uma amiga.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Então por favor nos acompanhe. - retrucou o policial.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Acompanhar??? mas eu...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Isso mesmo garoto, você vai lá conversar com o delegado e sua amiga. Vamos ou vai querer ir algemado?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O garoto concordou... acompanhou os policiais até a delegacia, o mesmo prédio em que "sua amiga" havia entrado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Na sala do delegado, a morena olhou assustada e disse: É ele, é ele mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O garoto ia se defender, apesar de nem saber qual a acusação, mas o delegado interrompeu:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Então esse é o garoto que gosta de assediar mulheres no ônibus e as seguir pelas ruas... Você já pode ir moça e fica tranquila que vamos cuidar bem dele aqui... Já que ele gosta de encoxadas, vai para uma cela com mais dezoito.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O garoto sentiu o estômago revirar enquanto a moça saía da sala e disse:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Eu não fiz nada, ela que me chamou para ir junto...nem sei pra onde...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Garoto, aqui todo mundo é inocente, é sempre a mesma história. Não vou mandar te prender dessa vez porque você tem cara de idiota e a moça já foi embora feliz, mas se eu tiver mais alguma reclamação sobre você aqui, garanto que vai me pagar porque vou considerar uma ofensa pessoal à minha boa vontade....combinado?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Sim senhor!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Ótimo...deixe seus documentos aqui comigo e espera na recepção.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Duas horas depois um policial devolveu os documentos do garoto que preferiu ir para casa a pé.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-2427508832489492387?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/2427508832489492387/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=2427508832489492387&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2427508832489492387?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/2427508832489492387?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/07/logica-do-azar.html" title="A lógica do azar" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SmjDimpEkaI/AAAAAAAAAps/f2QZwJNJG2s/s72-c/sexta-13.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUASHw-eip7ImA9WxJbF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-6806532069297168855</id><published>2009-07-03T16:17:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T12:50:49.252-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-28T12:50:49.252-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tirinhas do Protágoras" /><title>Tirinhas do Protágoras</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Freud e a Astrologia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sk5d4ZYrqmI/AAAAAAAAApA/qtK2_-CVWaY/s1600-h/tirinhas_freud.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 132px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sk5d4ZYrqmI/AAAAAAAAApA/qtK2_-CVWaY/s400/tirinhas_freud.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354320230458567266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Educação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sk5dkWmmwvI/AAAAAAAAAo4/D3R84ssOKqA/s1600-h/tirinhas_napole%C3%A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 130px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sk5dkWmmwvI/AAAAAAAAAo4/D3R84ssOKqA/s400/tirinhas_napole%C3%A3o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354319886114276082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vida Virtual&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sk5boFMuTFI/AAAAAAAAAow/8Ism_D_raAY/s1600-h/tirinhas_fake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sk5boFMuTFI/AAAAAAAAAow/8Ism_D_raAY/s400/tirinhas_fake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354317751138536530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Salvador Dalí&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sk5bOk4mWrI/AAAAAAAAAoo/9e-o7etbkA8/s1600-h/tirinhas_dali.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 187px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sk5bOk4mWrI/AAAAAAAAAoo/9e-o7etbkA8/s400/tirinhas_dali.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354317312967465650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;O Sentido da existência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sm8d9tEjJGI/AAAAAAAAAq0/zKzSQRiu7Aw/s1600-h/tirinhas_existencia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 209px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sm8d9tEjJGI/AAAAAAAAAq0/zKzSQRiu7Aw/s400/tirinhas_existencia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363538627129451618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-6806532069297168855?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/6806532069297168855/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=6806532069297168855&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/6806532069297168855?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/6806532069297168855?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/07/tirinhas-do-protagoras.html" title="Tirinhas do Protágoras" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sk5d4ZYrqmI/AAAAAAAAApA/qtK2_-CVWaY/s72-c/tirinhas_freud.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAMQn06eyp7ImA9WxNXFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-8639364529327778515</id><published>2009-06-29T11:01:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T17:59:43.313-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T17:59:43.313-03:00</app:edited><title>O curioso caso do coelho da vizinha</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-size: 85%; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Naqueles tempos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-size: 85%; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; eu era um menino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-size: 85%; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Que já sabia, do meu destino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-size: 85%; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;E caminhando de norte a sul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-size: 85%; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu vi muita gente, tomar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3dhEjElL68&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;My Way - Marcelo Nova&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SkjW_c09API/AAAAAAAAAnE/Ys6o8ajPdQU/s1600-h/Conejo.svg.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352764542688231666" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SkjW_c09API/AAAAAAAAAnE/Ys6o8ajPdQU/s200/Conejo.svg.png" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 200px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 166px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Nos anos oitenta eu era um garoto que vivia no interior e aprendia a sobreviver com as grandes lições que a vida me preparava. Uma delas o curioso caso do coelho da vizinha.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Até hoje muitas casas de interior não tem muros, assim os quintais são geralmente interligados, mas como a vizinha tinha um coelho e nós um cão, tivemos que improvisar uma cerca com tela de galinheiro para tentar evitar o encontro dos mascotes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No fim de uma tarde ensolarada ao sair para o quintal dos fundos vejo um grande buraco na cerca... Saí feito louco corredo e chamando pelo nosso cão que surgiu todo feliz com o coelho imóvel na boca.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dei um salto, arranquei o coelho de sua boca e constatei o que eu já sabia, o pobrezinho não teve chance de defesa... se eu tivesse chegado antes... agora ele estava morto e todo sujo de terra. Comecei a imaginar o castigo que receberia: uma semana sem sair de casa, trabalhos forçados, ficar um ano sem presente de aniversário, natal, etc...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Agi de forma impensada, fui até o tanque, lavei o coelho para tirar a terra e corri para o quintal da vizinha que por sorte não estava em casa. assim pude entrar, colocar o coelho em sua gaiola e voltar rapidamentesem ser visto.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Veio a noite, eu não falei uma palavra sobre o fato e procurei agir normalmente, depois de algumas horas já havia até esquecido o incidente. Na manhã seguinte durante o café da manhã, ouvimos gritos e corremos para fora. Eu sabia, era a vizinha que havia encontrado o coelho morto...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Quando chegamos vizinha se benzia, gritava socorro e chamava por tudo quanto é santo... eu achei exagero e minha mãe já foi logo perguntando: "O que aconteceu Dona Edith???"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A mulher parou e nos olhou ainda em seu estado de choque e disse toda afobada: "Meu coelho morreu ontem, eu enterrei e agora ele apareceu aqui morto na gaiola!!!!!!!!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-8639364529327778515?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/8639364529327778515/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=8639364529327778515&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/8639364529327778515?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/8639364529327778515?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-curioso-caso-do-coelho-da-vizinha.html" title="O curioso caso do coelho da vizinha" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/SkjW_c09API/AAAAAAAAAnE/Ys6o8ajPdQU/s72-c/Conejo.svg.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QCQXs7fSp7ImA9WxJaFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-6364485920678303388</id><published>2009-05-22T11:26:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T16:02:40.505-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-06T16:02:40.505-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Meus Autores Favoritos" /><title>Microcontos - Samir Mesquita</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.samirmesquita.com.br/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 230px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sha4bXLByXI/AAAAAAAAAl8/31KOo5KhC5E/s400/dois+palitos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338657188510550386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;             &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;Microcontos do livro DOIS PALITOS, de Samir Mesquita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);" id="article_header"&gt;            &lt;/div&gt;                                                  &lt;h2&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;BEIJO DE CINEMA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt; &lt;p&gt;As luzes se apagam.&lt;br /&gt;Os olhos se fecham.&lt;br /&gt;O filme começa.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;........................&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Era hora de dar um salto na vida.&lt;br /&gt;Escolheu a janela do 10º andar.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;....................&lt;/p&gt; &lt;h2&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;COITO INTERROMPIDO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt; &lt;p&gt;Estava quase chegando ao orgasmo.&lt;br /&gt;Mas aí a pilha acabou.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;h2 style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Microcontos do livro 18:30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, essas buzinas. Com 30 anos de casados, duvido que teriam pressa de voltar pra casa.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;.............................&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Assistia ao trânsito crescer cada vez mais.&lt;br /&gt;Ao filho, não tinha tempo.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;..........................&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;De madrugada, voltaria àquela rua.&lt;br /&gt;Pararia o carro e faria sua oferta.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;.........................&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Dirigir depois de romper um relacionamento deveria ser falta gravíssima.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.samirmesquita.com.br/"&gt;http://www.samirmesquita.com.br&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-6364485920678303388?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/6364485920678303388/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=6364485920678303388&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/6364485920678303388?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/6364485920678303388?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/05/microcontos-samir-mesquita.html" title="Microcontos - Samir Mesquita" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/Sha4bXLByXI/AAAAAAAAAl8/31KOo5KhC5E/s72-c/dois+palitos.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8ERng_fCp7ImA9WxNXFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-3786283841406320171</id><published>2009-05-20T16:08:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T18:00:07.644-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T18:00:07.644-03:00</app:edited><title>Aconteceu comigo</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/ShRapU2xySI/AAAAAAAAAl0/87GuLKi2rxg/s1600-h/dados.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337991124360481058" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/ShRapU2xySI/AAAAAAAAAl0/87GuLKi2rxg/s400/dados.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 170px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 227px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fui numa papelaria daquelas que tem de tudo, perguntei se tinha DVD virgem para a atendente.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Estou lá escolhendo e  perguntando o preço quando entra uma mulher e pergunta para a moça que me atendia:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Moça, você tem dado aí?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Eu que não sou de ficar maldando as coisas, continuei sério, mesmo quando a moça respondeu:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Só um minuto...."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Pedi dois DVDs e fomos os três até o caixa, onde a atendente perguntou para a moça do caixa:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Dani, tem dado aí?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A moça do caixa pensou por alguns instantes e respondeu:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Hummm...eu não lembro...."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A esta altura eu já estava de cabeça baixa, me segurando e tentando pagar logo e ir rir na rua, mas chega outra atendente e fala para a mulher:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Pois não, posso ajudar?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A mulher responde...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Não...essa moça aqui tá vendo se tem dado pra mim...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-3786283841406320171?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/3786283841406320171/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=3786283841406320171&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/3786283841406320171?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/3786283841406320171?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/05/aconteceu-comigo.html" title="Aconteceu comigo" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/ShRapU2xySI/AAAAAAAAAl0/87GuLKi2rxg/s72-c/dados.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MMRX4-fip7ImA9WxJaFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394396224639113147.post-1185202004209568459</id><published>2009-05-20T14:09:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T16:04:44.056-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-06T16:04:44.056-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Meus Autores Favoritos" /><title>Tenho que escapar - Stephen King</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://waldemar-kazak.deviantart.com/art/Robot-is-dead-89549333"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/ShQ-13qRQ3I/AAAAAAAAAls/XFAk5MbU_M0/s400/Robot_is_dead_by_Waldemar_Kazak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337960553536111474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;“O que estou fazendo aqui?”, perguntei-me de repente. Estava terrivelmente assustado. Não conseguia me recordar de nada, mas ali estava eu, trabalhando na linha de montagem de uma Central Atômica. Tudo o que sabia é que me chamava Denny Phillips. É como se eu acabasse de acordar de um sonho agradável. O lugar estava bem vigiado e os guardas estavam bem vestidos, pareciam homens de negocio e todos estavam armados de pistolas. Tinha outros trabalhadores e pareciam zumbis. Pareciam prisioneiros. Mas não importava. Tinha que descobrir quem era eu… que estava fazendo ali. Tinha que escapar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comecei a cruzar o andar, e um dos guardas gritou:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—VOLTE AQUI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corri sem direção , me joguei sobre um guarda, que caiu e saí pela porta. Ouvi o estalido das pistolas, que estavam disparando contra mim. Mas o pensamento persistia:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho que escapar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinha um novo grupo de guardas bloqueando a outra porta. Pareceu que estavam meio atrapalhados, até que vi uma corrente vinda do teto balançando-se. Agarrei-me nela e fui projetado cem metros até que aterrizei. Mas não terminou bem. Tinha um guarda ali.&lt;br /&gt;Disparou-me. Senti-me débil e mareado… apaguei num abismo grande e escuro…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dos guardas tirou o boné e coçou a cabeça.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—Não sei não, Joe. O progresso é uma grande coisa… mas estes x-238ª... Denny Phillips…, são uns bons robôs… mas de vês enquanto se desorientam e parece que procuram algo… quase humano. Oh, está bem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passou um caminhão que na lateral estava escrito: REPARAÇÃO DE ROBÔS ACME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duas semanas mais tarde, Denny Phillips estava de novo no trabalho… com um vazio no olhar. Mas de repente… Seus olhos meio que despertaram… e o persistente pensamento&lt;br /&gt;voltou a ele: TENHO QUE ESCAPAR!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Publicado originalmente em People, Places &amp;amp; Things de 1960&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stephenking.com/index.html"&gt;http://www.stephenking.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7394396224639113147-1185202004209568459?l=qseflog.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/feeds/1185202004209568459/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7394396224639113147&amp;postID=1185202004209568459&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/1185202004209568459?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7394396224639113147/posts/default/1185202004209568459?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://qseflog.blogspot.com/2009/05/tenho-que-escapar-stephen-king.html" title="Tenho que escapar - Stephen King" /><author><name>Frank Saiu</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="03737758868147785933" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_He7KSUnyBCA/ShQ-13qRQ3I/AAAAAAAAAls/XFAk5MbU_M0/s72-c/Robot_is_dead_by_Waldemar_Kazak.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry></feed>
