<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814</id><updated>2011-09-12T11:27:35.268-03:00</updated><category term='Momento melancólico'/><title type='text'>Contos da loira</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>74</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5596864087471321864</id><published>2011-07-19T21:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T21:54:59.125-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Conto de fadas para mulheres do séc. XXI</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;1.) &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Era uma vez uma linda moça que perguntou a um lindo rapaz: &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;- Você quer casar comigo?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ele respondeu:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;- NÃO!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E a moça viveu feliz para sempre, foi viajar, fez compras, conheceu muitos outros rapazes ,transou bastante, visitou muitos lugares, foi morar na praia, comprou outro carro, mobiliou sua casa, sempre estava sorrindo e de bom humor, nunca lhe faltava nada, bebia cerveja com as amigas sempre que estava com vontade e ninguém mandava nela.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O rapaz ficou barrigudo, careca, o pinto caiu, a bunda murchou, ficou sozinho e pobre, pois não se constrói nada sem uma MULHER.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;FIM!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;(Luís Fernando Veríssimo)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;2.) &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Era uma vez, numa terra muito distante, uma linda princesa independente e cheia de auto-estima que, enquanto contemplava a natureza e pensava em como o maravilhoso lago do seu castelo estava de acordo com as conformidades ecológicas, se deparou com uma rã.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Então, a rã pulou para o seu colo e disse: - Linda princesa, eu já fui um príncipe muito bonito. Mas uma bruxa má lançou-me um encanto e eu transformei-me nesta rã asquerosa. Um beijo teu, no entanto, há de me transformar de novo num belo príncipe e poderemos casar e constituir um lar feliz no teu lindo castelo. A minha mãe poderia vir morar conosco e tu poderias preparar o meu jantar, lavarias as minhas roupas, criarias os nossos filhos e viveríamos felizes para sempre...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E então, naquela noite, enquanto saboreava pernas de rã à sautée, acompanhadas de um cremoso molho acebolado e de um finíssimo vinho branco, a princesa sorria e pensava: - Nem fo...den...do!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;FIM!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;(Luís Fernando Veríssimo)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5596864087471321864?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5596864087471321864/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5596864087471321864&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5596864087471321864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5596864087471321864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2011/07/conto-de-fadas-para-mulheres-do-sec-xxi.html' title='Conto de fadas para mulheres do séc. XXI'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-8582772957795766989</id><published>2011-07-03T13:26:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T13:26:09.918-03:00</updated><title type='text'>DAR OU FAZER AMOR?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Dar não é fazer amor. Dar é dar.&lt;br /&gt;Fazer amor é lindo, é sublime, é encantador, é esplêndido.&lt;br /&gt;Mas dar é bom pra cacete!&lt;br /&gt;Dar é aquela coisa que alguém te puxa os cabelos da nuca...&lt;br /&gt;Te chama de nomes que eu não escreveria...&lt;br /&gt;Não te vira com delicadeza...&lt;br /&gt;Não sente vergonha de ritmos animais.&lt;br /&gt;Dar é bom.&lt;br /&gt;Melhor do que dar, só dar por dar.&lt;br /&gt;Dar sem querer casar....&lt;br /&gt;Sem querer apresentar pra mãe...&lt;br /&gt;Sem querer dar o primeiro abraço no Ano Novo.&lt;br /&gt;Dar porque o cara te esquenta a coluna vertebral...&lt;br /&gt;Te amolece o gingado...&lt;br /&gt;Te molha o instinto.&lt;br /&gt;Dar porque a vida é estressante e dar relaxa.&lt;br /&gt;Dar porque se você não der para ele hoje, vai dar amanhã, ou depois de amanhã.&lt;br /&gt;Tem pessoas que você vai acabar dando, não tem jeito.&lt;br /&gt;Dar sem esperar ouvir promessas, sem esperar ouvir carinhos, sem esperar ouvir futuro.&lt;br /&gt;Dar é bom, na hora.&lt;br /&gt;Durante um mês.&lt;br /&gt;Para os mais desavisados, talvez anos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Mas dar é dar demais e ficar vazio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar é não ganhar.&lt;br /&gt;É não ganhar um eu te amo baixinho perdido no meio do escuro.&lt;br /&gt;É não ganhar uma mão no ombro quando o caos da cidade parece querer te abduzir.&lt;br /&gt;É não ter alguém pra querer casar, para apresentar pra mãe, pra dar o&lt;br /&gt;primeiro abraço de Ano Novo e pra falar:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;'Que que cê acha amor?'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;É não ter companhia garantida para viajar.&lt;br /&gt;É não ter para quem ligar quando recebe uma boa notícia.&lt;br /&gt;Dar é não querer dormir encaixadinho...&lt;br /&gt;É não ter alguém para ouvir seus dengos...&lt;br /&gt;Mas dar é inevitável, dê mesmo, dê sempre, dê muito.&lt;br /&gt;Mas dê mais ainda, muito mais do que qualquer coisa, uma chance ao amor.&lt;br /&gt;Esse sim é o maior tesão, relaxa, cura o mau humor, ameniza todas as crises e faz você flutuar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Experimente ser amado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Luiz Fernando Veríssimo)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-8582772957795766989?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/8582772957795766989/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=8582772957795766989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/8582772957795766989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/8582772957795766989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2011/07/dar-ou-fazer-amor.html' title='DAR OU FAZER AMOR?'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-7930380073603076685</id><published>2010-12-11T19:39:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T21:43:46.551-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: #20124d; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;Estava tudo muito bom, tudo muito bem, quando você esbarrou em uma certa pessoa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #20124d; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;No começo, você pensou que não era nada demais, sem saber que, na verdade, desde o primeiro momento, o jeitinho petulante daquela pessoa já tinha lhe conquistado.&lt;br /&gt;Não demorou muito para se pegar no meio da tarde pensando em... você sabe muito bem quem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #20124d; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;E no começo isso assustou um pouco, mas depois, como era de se esperar, você se acostumou.&lt;br /&gt;Na primeira vez que acordou pensando em (você sabe quem), "o que foi isso? Quem autorizou?", foi o que se perguntou. Mas logo, você se acostumou.&lt;br /&gt;E mais algum tempo foi para de repente, rir de alguma coisa que lembrava (você sabe quem), ou se pegar fazendo um gesto igual a... bem... nem é preciso dizer quem.&lt;br /&gt;Você teve vontade de sair correndo, tamanho o pavor que isso causou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #20124d; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;Mas logo, você se acostumou (e começou até a achar isso bom).&lt;br /&gt;E não é que agora você não imagina sua vida sem... você sabe quem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #20124d; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;Logo essa pessoa, que tempos atrás você nem conhecia, não sabia sequer da existência, mas que é exatamente do jeito que sempre sonhou.&lt;br /&gt;Pois é, a vida tem dessas coisas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f2dbdb;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f2dbdb;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-7930380073603076685?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/7930380073603076685/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=7930380073603076685&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7930380073603076685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7930380073603076685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/12/estava-tudo-muito-bom-tudo-muito-bem.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-1113399108815423942</id><published>2010-11-25T23:15:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T23:15:07.610-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sinto falta da minha solidão plena, descompromissada....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TO8J9vOgRYI/AAAAAAAADrM/ung6dZ7n29c/s1600/OgAAAOMpHBYi5SeVbDsaDGc04tCqpZYeP7TE8bC1FiwoqsMZ7AFRp149Haupu5yCp0USf4fe8W54Syo5iMf7o5Srsi4Am1T1UGDO5tIuKFzUg2sYXbRM1qt6bxSU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TO8J9vOgRYI/AAAAAAAADrM/ung6dZ7n29c/s320/OgAAAOMpHBYi5SeVbDsaDGc04tCqpZYeP7TE8bC1FiwoqsMZ7AFRp149Haupu5yCp0USf4fe8W54Syo5iMf7o5Srsi4Am1T1UGDO5tIuKFzUg2sYXbRM1qt6bxSU.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-1113399108815423942?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/1113399108815423942/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=1113399108815423942&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1113399108815423942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1113399108815423942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/11/sinto-falta-da-minha-solidao-plena.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TO8J9vOgRYI/AAAAAAAADrM/ung6dZ7n29c/s72-c/OgAAAOMpHBYi5SeVbDsaDGc04tCqpZYeP7TE8bC1FiwoqsMZ7AFRp149Haupu5yCp0USf4fe8W54Syo5iMf7o5Srsi4Am1T1UGDO5tIuKFzUg2sYXbRM1qt6bxSU.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-959505697287840382</id><published>2010-11-22T20:33:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T20:33:47.204-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: monospace; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: monospace; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: monospace; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"&gt;Uma mulher pergunta a um mestre chinês:&lt;br /&gt;- Mestre, por que um homem que faz sexo com várias mulheres é chamado de&lt;br /&gt;campeão e uma mulher que faz sexo com vários homens é chamada de vagabunda?&lt;br /&gt;E o mestre responde:&lt;br /&gt;- Filha, veja bem, uma chave que abre várias fechaduras é uma chave-mestra.&lt;br /&gt;Já uma fechadura que abre com qualquer chave, não serve para nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: monospace; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: monospace; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-959505697287840382?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/959505697287840382/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=959505697287840382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/959505697287840382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/959505697287840382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3387979118927135324</id><published>2010-10-20T20:39:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T20:54:32.539-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;Como ando sem tempo e sem disposição para blogar com mais freqüência, vou ressuscitar alguns palhaços famosos que já abrilhantaram o meu picadeiro. Todos falecidos, amém!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;O palhaço do saco cheiroso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;Era aquele tipo que se achava o último trakinas na Somália...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TL9yqiAW1DI/AAAAAAAADpw/5vmt8mxuexc/s1600/saco-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TL9yqiAW1DI/AAAAAAAADpw/5vmt8mxuexc/s200/saco-21.jpg" width="144" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;Em uma de nossas saidinhas, estávamos em um bar quando o pandego sentiu o sedutor aroma da loira que vos narra o fato.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;(Eu não sou do tipo que escolho a dedo o perfume certo para o tipo de cara que estou saindo... Pego qualquer um e ponho, até porque adoro todos os que tenho)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Hum, que perfume é esse que você está usando?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Não lembro qual ... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;O seu é bem cheiroso, qual seria?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;(Holofotes ao centro... o showzinho vai começar!)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;Palhaço aponta para o pescoço e diz:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Aqui, é um; &amp;nbsp;é o .......blablablawiskassache&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;Palhaço com carinha de menino serelepe aponta para as partes intimas e diz:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Aqui já é outro; &amp;nbsp;é o .......leparfumparalesacò&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;-Heinnnnnnnnnnnnn? Você põem perfume no saco? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Sim, sim... É porque tem estória isso! Uma vez eu estava me vestindo para sair quando o vidro de perfume caiu e vazou, molhando a minha cueca. Beleza, pus a roupa e saí assim mesmo. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Já no bar, estava la na mesa com meus amigos quando a menina na mesa ao lado deixou cair algo no chão, perto da minha cadeira. Ela abaixou-se para pegar, sentiu o cheiro do perfume e falou, “ Nossa, isso é que é saco cheiroso! “. Desde então ,antes de sair eu passo perfume no saco.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Não pude conter o riso.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Desnecessário!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3387979118927135324?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3387979118927135324/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3387979118927135324&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3387979118927135324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3387979118927135324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/10/como-ando-sem-tempo-e-sem-disposicao.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TL9yqiAW1DI/AAAAAAAADpw/5vmt8mxuexc/s72-c/saco-21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-1089559954612485573</id><published>2010-10-20T08:39:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T08:39:18.983-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Você não acredita mais no amor?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Nossa... como essa pergunta me pegou de surpresa numa conversa entre amigas! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Não tive resposta, mas a pergunta me atormentou pelo resto do dia... Perturbador não ter uma resposta.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Fiquei a margem de mim mesma tentando definir no que ainda sou crédula. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;O cara certo com a frase dita no momento perfeito... mais dez segundos e você descobre o quão linda é a sua esposa!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;A companhia mais inteligente e agradável que você já desfrutou... mais quinze minutos para saber que na semana seguinte se mudará para o Pantanal!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;A pegada mais gostosa acompanha do beijo mais ardente que você já trocou... mais umas duas semanas para você descobrir que ele ainda é apaixonado pela ex!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Nem precisei gastar muitos neurônios ou me estender mais um pouco para compreender que não é o sentimento que caiu em desuso, mas a credibilidade das pessoas; o comprometimento real que cada uma se propõem a ter ao se envolver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-1089559954612485573?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/1089559954612485573/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=1089559954612485573&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1089559954612485573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1089559954612485573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/10/voce-nao-acredita-mais-no-amor.html' title='Você não acredita mais no amor?'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-1483476844737759774</id><published>2010-09-28T22:29:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T22:29:14.483-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="fr" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://pnsdr.com/img/comllas.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; color: black; display: block; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; font: normal normal normal 1em/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 40px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px;"&gt;...Que minha solidão me sirva de companhia.&lt;br /&gt;que eu tenha a coragem de me enfrentar.&lt;br /&gt;que eu saiba ficar com o nada&lt;br /&gt;e mesmo assim me sentir&lt;br /&gt;como se estivesse plena de tudo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="aut" style="display: block; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 2px; padding-left: 35px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"&gt;&lt;a class="autor" href="http://www.pensador.info/autor/Clarice_Lispector/" style="color: blue; font-size: 1em; padding-left: 5px;"&gt;Clarice Lispector&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="aut" style="display: block; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 2px; padding-left: 35px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="aut" style="display: block; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 2px; padding-left: 35px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="aut" style="display: block; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 2px; padding-left: 35px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-1483476844737759774?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/1483476844737759774/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=1483476844737759774&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1483476844737759774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1483476844737759774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post_28.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-7226893878910474610</id><published>2010-09-16T23:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T23:27:34.928-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TJLRrcSI31I/AAAAAAAADpo/-P9zk-Zn0FY/s1600/noid-oldmasgold1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TJLRrcSI31I/AAAAAAAADpo/-P9zk-Zn0FY/s1600/noid-oldmasgold1.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-7226893878910474610?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/7226893878910474610/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=7226893878910474610&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7226893878910474610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7226893878910474610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post_16.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TJLRrcSI31I/AAAAAAAADpo/-P9zk-Zn0FY/s72-c/noid-oldmasgold1.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4015199843180468702</id><published>2010-09-16T23:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T23:24:01.438-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TJLQ_WrfF0I/AAAAAAAADpg/MOd2Gr67Bzg/s1600/40417_149103748436998_100000121221182_472249_8366334_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="289" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TJLQ_WrfF0I/AAAAAAAADpg/MOd2Gr67Bzg/s400/40417_149103748436998_100000121221182_472249_8366334_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4015199843180468702?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4015199843180468702/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4015199843180468702&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4015199843180468702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4015199843180468702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TJLQ_WrfF0I/AAAAAAAADpg/MOd2Gr67Bzg/s72-c/40417_149103748436998_100000121221182_472249_8366334_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-7564553856949439240</id><published>2010-09-15T08:32:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T08:32:05.068-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensamento do dia...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Homem grosso, a mulher gama; homem meloso, a mulher se apaixona!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-7564553856949439240?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/7564553856949439240/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=7564553856949439240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7564553856949439240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7564553856949439240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/09/pensamento-do-dia.html' title='Pensamento do dia...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-6378773858476269489</id><published>2010-09-08T23:00:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T23:01:07.916-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não... não estou apaixonada ou coisa parecida! Somente achei o texto anterior no meu email e resolvi publicar aqui no blog, que anda meio abandonado.... carente....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bjs da loira&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-6378773858476269489?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/6378773858476269489/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=6378773858476269489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6378773858476269489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6378773858476269489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/09/nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-6619475625010192348</id><published>2010-09-08T22:56:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T23:04:35.652-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Momento melancólico'/><title type='text'>DESPEDIDA</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4 style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existem duas dores de amor:&lt;br /&gt;A primeira é quando a relação termina e a gente,&lt;br /&gt;seguindo amando, tem que se acostumar com a ausência do outro,&lt;br /&gt;com a sensação de perda, de rejeição e com a falta de perspectiva,&lt;br /&gt;já que ainda estamos tão embrulhados na dor&lt;br /&gt;que não conseguimos ver luz no fim do túnel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A segunda dor é quando começamos a vislumbrar a luz no fim do túnel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mais dilacerante é a dor física da falta de beijos e abraços,&lt;br /&gt;a dor de virar desimportante para o ser amado.&lt;br /&gt;Mas, quando esta dor passa, começamos um outro ritual de despedida:&lt;br /&gt;a dor de abandonar o amor que sentíamos.&lt;br /&gt;A dor de esvaziar o coração, de remover a saudade, de ficar livre,&lt;br /&gt;sem sentimento especial por aquela pessoa. Dói também…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na verdade, ficamos apegados ao amor tanto quanto à pessoa que o gerou.&lt;br /&gt;Muitas pessoas reclamam por não conseguir se desprender de alguém.&lt;br /&gt;É que, sem se darem conta, não querem se desprender.&lt;br /&gt;Aquele amor, mesmo não retribuído, tornou-se um souvenir,&lt;br /&gt;lembrança de uma época bonita que foi vivida…&lt;br /&gt;Passou a ser um bem de valor inestimável, é uma sensação à qual&lt;br /&gt;a gente se apega. Faz parte de nós.&lt;br /&gt;Queremos, logicamente, voltar a ser alegres e disponíveis,&lt;br /&gt;mas para isso é preciso abrir mão de algo que nos foi caro por muito tempo,&lt;br /&gt;que de certa maneira entranhou-se na gente,&lt;br /&gt;e que só com muito esforço é possível alforriar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É uma dor mais amena, quase imperceptível.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez, por isso, costuma durar mais do que a 'dor-de-cotovelo'&lt;br /&gt;propriamente dita. É uma dor que nos confunde.&lt;br /&gt;Parece ser aquela mesma dor primeira, mas já é outra. A pessoa que nos&lt;br /&gt;deixou já não nos interessa mais, mas interessa o amor que sentíamos por&lt;br /&gt;ela, aquele amor que nos justificava como seres humanos,&lt;br /&gt;que nos colocava dentro das estatísticas: "Eu amo, logo existo".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despedir-se de um amor é despedir-se de si mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;É o arremate de uma história que terminou,&lt;br /&gt;externamente, sem nossa concordância,&lt;br /&gt;mas que precisa também sair de dentro da gente…&lt;br /&gt;E só então a gente poderá amar, de novo.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pensador.info/autor/Martha_Medeiros/" style="color: #0065cc;" target="_blank"&gt;Martha Medeiros&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-6619475625010192348?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/6619475625010192348/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=6619475625010192348&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6619475625010192348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6619475625010192348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/09/despedida.html' title='DESPEDIDA'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5260830427168366156</id><published>2010-08-11T16:45:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T23:06:01.306-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"&gt;A postagem do dia 08 de maio (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/05/tenho-um-ex-namorado-pandego-que.html#links"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/05/tenho-um-ex-namorado-pandego-que.html#links&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"&gt;levantou um comentário, no mímino, curioso a respeito do universo feminino... AMIZADE COM EX. Já que só uma mulher entende outra mulher, vamos tentar ajudar o nosso amiguinho, pois pode ser q ele também nao me entenda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330000;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aristóteles deixou um novo comentário sobre a sua postagem :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;uma grande dúvida que só uma mulher poderia responder: -ela termina e diz que ainda quer ser sua amiga... isso seria igual a "não quero mais namorar, ficar abraçado nem nada mas pode continuar me tratando com carinho que eu gosto"?!&lt;br /&gt;Abraços de um quase NERD ".&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Abraços de um quase nerd... Como descrever um ser 'quase nerd' ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Deve ser por isso que terminou o romance né??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Sorte a dele ainda rolar amizade...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Chupa essa manga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5260830427168366156?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5260830427168366156/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5260830427168366156&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5260830427168366156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5260830427168366156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/08/ultima-postagem-levantou-um-comentario.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5511247387857430733</id><published>2010-08-04T08:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T08:14:06.794-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Esses dias ando mais tensa que galinha em dia de oferenda e por isso não estou tendo concentração suficiente para postar. Semana passada, ao chegar em casa, nessa cidade calma e pacata fui assaltada na porta de casa. Nessa brincadeirinha, levaram meu carro e meu radio (que nem chegou a aniversariar uma semana comigo!). Acabei encontrando o carro, contabilizei os prejuízos e fiquei nessa correria sem fim entre delegacia-patiolegal-seguro..................................estresse na certa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Idas e vindas sempre com alguma palhaçada contabilizada; fato certo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Vejamos algumas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;(Na delegacia)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;- Quantos indivíduos eram senhora?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;- Um só.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;- Estava armado?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;- Lógico!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;(Lógica foi aquela vontade louca de responder: Não, não estava armado não.... Trazia dentro das calças uma língua de sogra!!!!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;(No patio-legal)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Nunca vi lugar tão burocratico e com &amp;nbsp;tanta gente lerda com o dom sublime de irritar os demais... aff, a treva!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Segundo dia por lá, transito linda, loira e japonesa, portando uma justa mini -saia sobre uma insinuante meia calça. De propósito, não é? Já estava querendo....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Fui apresentar na polícia civil os documentos do carro, recibos, R.O., bla bla bla, ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;- Qual o seu endereço?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;- Rua dos Palhaços, 171, ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;- Ah, você mora por lá, que bom, quando for fazer operação por lá vou te procurar, já que você é conhecedora da área&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;- Ah ta...................................................................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;(Sua mãe vai bem, não é? O fdp me chamou de favelada, no mínimo)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;-&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Então está tudo certo senhorita, é só apresentar esses documentos na recepção e pegar o carro.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;(senhorita, não é um bom sinal... dá um ar de "essa não casou, posso cantar a vontade")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Já levantando respondi:&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;- Ok então, obrigada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Holofotes ao centro.... Showzinho particular para encerrar o espetáculo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Volte sempre!!!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;(Ham???? Volte sempre???? Ali eu só poderia ir se fosse roubada ou rebocada.... E ele me diz "volte sempre!" Não vou nem me estender nos comentários, até porque a cara de cú que eu fiz para ele foi indescritível e resumiu tudo).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5511247387857430733?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5511247387857430733/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5511247387857430733&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5511247387857430733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5511247387857430733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/08/esses-dias-ando-mais-tensa-que-galinha.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-7187746188892774302</id><published>2010-07-16T21:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T21:56:45.053-03:00</updated><title type='text'>20 coisas que você aprende assistindo filme pornô</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;1- Mulheres usam salto alto na cama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;2-Homens estão sempre preparados com a juleba pronta pro jogo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;3-Quando "descer" em uma mulher 10 segundos são suficientes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;4-Se uma mulher se masturbando for pega por um estranho ela não irá gritar de vergonha, mais irá insistir que quer fazer sexo com esse estranho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;5-Mulheres gostam de fazer sexo com homens feios de meia idade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;6-Mulheres gritam de prazer sem controle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;7-Mulheres sempre tem um orgasmo quando o homem também tem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;8-Sexo oral sempre irá livrar uma mulher de levar uma multa de trânsito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;9-Algo comum e prazeroso para as mulheres é o homem pegar sua manjiroba mole e bater na bunda delas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;10-Dupla penetração faz mulheres sorrirem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;11-Homens asiáticos não existem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;12-Se você encontrar seu amigo fazendo sexo com a namorada atrás dos arbustos, o namorado não irá se incomodar de você abaixar suas calças e colocar sua taioba na boca da namorada dele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;13-Enfermeiras fazem sexo com pacientes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;14-Caso sua namorada encontre você fazendo sexo com a melhor amiga dela, não se preocupe ela irá ficar muito nervosa até você começar a fazer sexo com as duas juntas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;15-Mulheres não tem dor de cabeça e não menstruam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;16-Todos os forévis são limpinhos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;17-Todo homem tem um bérimbau superior a 20 centimetros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;18-Toda mulher se surpreende ao abaixar a calça do homem e encontrar uma bingola ali dentro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;19-Toda mulher sente prazer ao fazer sexo oral em um homem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;20-Homens não precisam implorar por sexo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif'; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif'; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-7187746188892774302?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/7187746188892774302/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=7187746188892774302&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7187746188892774302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7187746188892774302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/07/20-coisas-que-voce-aprende-assistindo.html' title='20 coisas que você aprende assistindo filme pornô'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-1377805051820813299</id><published>2010-07-15T08:27:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T08:30:28.263-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cantadas .... se assim se pode chamar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Então meninas inteligentes do meu Brasil... como é chato chegar numa balada ou num barzinho e vir aquele ser do sexo masculino, quase um aborígene, falar com você. Papinho vai... papinho vem... e eis que rola a famosa cantada! Uns são menos criativos (se dizem objetivos) e vão direto ao ponto (à caça), mas de qualquer forma, é palhaçada na certa.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TD7whWYdZqI/AAAAAAAADnQ/PV47zno_PTM/s1600/image001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TD7whWYdZqI/AAAAAAAADnQ/PV47zno_PTM/s640/image001.jpg" width="195" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TD7xPXz_KZI/AAAAAAAADnY/Av476aQWm94/s1600/image006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TD7xPXz_KZI/AAAAAAAADnY/Av476aQWm94/s640/image006.jpg" width="196" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-1377805051820813299?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/1377805051820813299/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=1377805051820813299&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1377805051820813299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1377805051820813299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/07/cantadas-se-assim-se-pode-chamar.html' title='Cantadas .... se assim se pode chamar'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TD7whWYdZqI/AAAAAAAADnQ/PV47zno_PTM/s72-c/image001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-705820068683926978</id><published>2010-07-06T08:08:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T08:09:33.233-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;COMENTARIOS TEMPORARIAMENTE INDISPONÍVEIS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Porem nao deixem de comentar os posts... assim que tudo normalizar eu os publico!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Bjs da Loira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-705820068683926978?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/705820068683926978/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=705820068683926978&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/705820068683926978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/705820068683926978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/07/comentarios-temporariamente.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-624433974641676259</id><published>2010-07-05T22:28:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T22:30:22.389-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Parte 4 –  E ele não desiste nunca...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;Então chegou a vez de deixar o romancista em casa... Assim que parei o carro, ele lança:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- Ué, não vai dormir aqui?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- A-qui-a-on-de?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- Aqui em casa...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;Palhaço que é palhaço não perde um espetáculo! Holofotes no centro do picadeiro que o showzinho vai começar!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- Lógico que não... Vou para a minha casa.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- Então esse esquema todo foi para que? Senão eu ia te deixar em casa...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- Não precisa não... sou crescidinha, sei me cuidar!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- Ah fica por aqui, está tarde, a gente conversa mais, pois nem nos falamos na festa, você nem me deu atenção.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- Conversar??? Esqueceu que eu não tenho mais assunto com você? Não tem mais papo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- Então ta... a gente não conversa... faz outras coisas! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;- Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hahahahahahahahahahahaa... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;Querido... você nem começou a cobrir pontinhos e já quer construir frases, escrever um livro...?! Me poupa ne....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;(Para quem não sintonizou a piada, o professor romancista é o que já me convidou para sair inúmeras vezes e nunca encostou um dedinho em mim. Acho que ele precisa estudar melhor a cartilha da conquista, pois esta pulando algumas partes essenciais...)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"&gt;Em breve, post sobre o 'professor romancista'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-624433974641676259?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/624433974641676259/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=624433974641676259&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/624433974641676259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/624433974641676259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/07/parte-4-e-ele-nao-desiste-nunca.html' title='Parte 4 –  E ele não desiste nunca...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3854752980213657617</id><published>2010-07-05T21:57:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T22:43:26.528-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Parte 3 – Escracho</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TDKKKjGc9JI/AAAAAAAADnI/9GptCVuhIyc/s1600/prostituta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="188" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TDKKKjGc9JI/AAAAAAAADnI/9GptCVuhIyc/s200/prostituta.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Para acompanhar a leitura deste post, vamos relembrar um funk-poema que tocava muito na minha adolescência... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;“Bota na boca, bota na cara, bota aonde quiser!!!!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Letra riquíssima que se adequa perfeitamente ao que vou relatar.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Já acostumada a ser a motorista da rodada, tive que levar a tira colo a professorinha tarada e o professor romancista.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Não lembro como começou, mas ou a ice anda com teor alcoólico altíssimo ou a mulher estava possuída! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;- Então “professor romancista”, vamos dormir juntos hoje?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;- Que isso Fofoleti... eu sou tímido.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;- Tímido que nada, você é devagar demais!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;- Não... é que sou tímido, sou quase virgem...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;- Ah é? Eu também! Então vamos fazer igual ao pessoal da igreja; a gente casa, faz coisinha feia e depois se separa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; line-height: 21px;"&gt;... (Foco na cara de cachorro acuado do professor romancista) ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Que isso?!?! =O&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Então, aonde a gente vai dormir hoje? Quero só ver se você vai fugir de ...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Epa epa epa.... tive que interromper! Nunca troquei figurinha com ela para que a mesma se sentisse a vontade o suficiente para ter um surto de intimidade instantânea e esfregar na cara do pândego na minha frente, dentro do meu carro... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Olha só gente, lá na festa eu pude me retirar e deixar vocês a vontade, só que agora eu sou a motorista e infelizmente não poderei fazer o mesmo. Não estou a fim de presenciar você estimulando sexualmente o cara via oral.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Os dois fizeram cara de alface e calaram-se.&amp;nbsp; Cheguei na porta da Fofoleti puritana e antes de descer ela lança sua última:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Não vai furar meu olho hein...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"&gt;Perco o amigo mas não perco a piada, já sabem: “- Lógico que não amiguinha!” E lanço um beijinho no ar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3854752980213657617?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3854752980213657617/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3854752980213657617&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3854752980213657617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3854752980213657617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/07/parte-3-escracho.html' title='Parte 3 – Escracho'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TDKKKjGc9JI/AAAAAAAADnI/9GptCVuhIyc/s72-c/prostituta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4510975523987769484</id><published>2010-07-05T21:54:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T22:17:48.613-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Parte 2 -  A festa</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Na festa, sendo obrigada a participar de brincadeiras como dança da cordinha, dança da laranja, comparada com a She-ra, tendo que ficar &amp;nbsp;com a espada na mão enquanto um filme dos anos 80 era exibido... tudo isso foi balela perto do constrangimento que passei.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Instalei-me camufladamente numa mesa com amigos, dentre eles o “professor de conto de fadas” e uma professora que nunca se entrosou muito com ninguém. Pessoa calma que eu jurava que vegetava nesse planeta; atende pelo apelido-codinome Fofoleti.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Papo vai... papo vem quando de repente ouço:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;- Então “professor de conto de fadas”, já tomei três ices... Você vai me deixar em casa ne?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;- Não. Nem estou de carro, vim de carona com a Loira.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;- E como é que eu vou embora? Não estou muito legal não...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Corte rápido e preciso... : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;- Vai de taxi Fofoleti!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Muito que rapidamente as pessoas começam a se retirar da mesa.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Sobro eu no meio dos dois.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;Ela lança a cartada final:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;- Então vamos de taxi dormir aonde?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;=O ok ok.... Sobrando e saindo, lanço a bolinha ninja e não fico para o final da estória. Melhor assim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4510975523987769484?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4510975523987769484/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4510975523987769484&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4510975523987769484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4510975523987769484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/07/parte-2-festa.html' title='Parte 2 -  A festa'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5211512440498439221</id><published>2010-07-05T21:47:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T22:36:26.779-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Parte 1 – Perco a liberdade mas não perco a piada.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Além de estar com minha veia cômica inflamada, os últimos fins de semanas tem rendido textos impublicáveis. Mas como não sou baú e adoro um ibope, aqui estou, frenética, resenhando para vocês.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Aniversário de minha amiga morena rendeu muitas gargalhadas a parte. Todos os amigos e não amigos do meu trabalho anterior estavam presentes, inclusive o “professor de conto de fadas”.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Como a casa do bruto é no caminho da festa e o mesmo estava desprovido de um meio de locomoção próprio, fiquei de buscá-lo em casa. Até aí... tudo ia bem.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Com engradados de cerveja na mala, do alto dos meus 12 cm, vestida a vácuo numa calça preta de levantar defunto, linda, loira e japonesa sou parada numa blitz.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;- Documento do carro e habilitação, senhora.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Simpatia em pessoa, entrego-lhes os documentos.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;- Posso olhar a mala?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Sem maldade alguma, vou calmamente abrir a mala... Assim que a tampa vai subindo, me recordo das bebidas. Aff...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;- Vai para alguma festinha?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;- Sim.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;- Vai beber e voltar dirigindo moça?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;Juuuuuuuuro que tentei segurar, mas não suportei!!!!!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;- Não, não... a festinha é particular. Quem disse que eu vou voltar?!?!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;..........(Trilha sonora para a cara de pastel do PM).........&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5211512440498439221?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5211512440498439221/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5211512440498439221&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5211512440498439221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5211512440498439221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/07/parte-1-perco-liberdade-mas-nao-perco.html' title='Parte 1 – Perco a liberdade mas não perco a piada.'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-6557081051562450935</id><published>2010-07-04T21:48:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T21:49:17.257-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Foto do mês!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TDJ9W643cbI/AAAAAAAADnA/WRrQMMPdeOM/s1600/bruno-ronaldo-mata-engorda2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="318" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TDJ9W643cbI/AAAAAAAADnA/WRrQMMPdeOM/s400/bruno-ronaldo-mata-engorda2.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-6557081051562450935?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/6557081051562450935/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=6557081051562450935&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6557081051562450935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6557081051562450935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/07/foto-do-mes.html' title='Foto do mês!!!'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TDJ9W643cbI/AAAAAAAADnA/WRrQMMPdeOM/s72-c/bruno-ronaldo-mata-engorda2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-2590705612796332493</id><published>2010-07-03T11:14:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T11:15:55.660-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Um dia de fúria!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Depois &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;da&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; hilária &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;eliminação&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; do &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Brasil&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; da &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Copa&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; do &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mundo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;, o &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;que&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; mais &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;surge&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; na &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;rede&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; são &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sátiras&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; a &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;respeito&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"&gt;Aqui vão dois links do You Tube que valem a pena!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKMbpLzldws&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKMbpLzldws&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKMbpLzldws&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGEbouWhZD8&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGEbouWhZD8&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-2590705612796332493?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/2590705612796332493/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=2590705612796332493&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2590705612796332493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2590705612796332493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/07/um-dia-de-furia.html' title='Um dia de fúria!'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3457266457956194936</id><published>2010-06-12T11:21:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T11:22:03.662-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Aos futuros...</title><content type='html'>&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 16px; width: 578px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 1.5pt; padding-left: 1.5pt; padding-right: 1.5pt; padding-top: 1.5pt; width: 574px;" width="100%"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; padding-top: 0cm;" valign="top"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #595959; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;*POEMA ESCRITO POR ELE:*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="http://pt.dreamstime.com/noivo-dos-desenhos-animados-thumb9441824.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que feliz sou eu, meu amor!*&lt;br /&gt;Já, já estaremos casados,*&lt;br /&gt;O café da manhã na cama,*&lt;br /&gt;Um bom suco e um pão torrado*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com ovos bem mexidinhos*&lt;br /&gt;Tudo pronto bem cedinho*&lt;br /&gt;Depois irei para o trabalho*&lt;br /&gt;E você para o mercado*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daí você corre pra casa*&lt;br /&gt;Rapidinho arruma tudo*&lt;br /&gt;E corre pro seu trabalho*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #595959; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Para começar o seu turno*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #595959; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Você sabe que de noite*&lt;br /&gt;Gosto de jantar bem cedo*&lt;br /&gt;De ver você bem bonita*&lt;br /&gt;Alegre e sorridente*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pela noite minisséries*&lt;br /&gt;Cineminha bem barato*&lt;br /&gt;Nada, nada de shoppings*&lt;br /&gt;Nem de restaurantes caros*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você vai cozinhar pra mim*&lt;br /&gt;Comidinhas bem caseiras*&lt;br /&gt;Pois não sou dessas pessoas*&lt;br /&gt;Que gosta de comer besteiras....*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você não acha, querida*&lt;br /&gt;Que esses dias serão gloriosos?*&lt;br /&gt;Não se esqueça, meu amor*&lt;br /&gt;Que logo seremos esposos!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*POEMA ESCRITO POR ELA*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="http://pt.dreamstime.com/noiva-dos-desenhos-animados-thumb9441821.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que sincero meu amor!*&lt;br /&gt;Que oportunas tuas palavras!*&lt;br /&gt;Esperas tanto de mim*&lt;br /&gt;Que me sinto intimidada*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei fazer ovo mexido*&lt;br /&gt;Como sua mãe adorada,*&lt;br /&gt;Meu pão torrado se queima*&lt;br /&gt;De cozinha não sei nada!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosto muito de dormir*&lt;br /&gt;Até tarde, relaxada*&lt;br /&gt;Ir ao shopping fazer compras*&lt;br /&gt;Com o Visa tarja dourada*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sair com minhas amigas,*&lt;br /&gt;Comprar só roupa de marca*&lt;br /&gt;Sapatos só exclusivos*&lt;br /&gt;E as langeries mais caras*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pense bem, que ainda há tempo*&lt;br /&gt;A igreja não está paga*&lt;br /&gt;Eu devolvo meu vestido*&lt;br /&gt;E você seu terno de gala*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E domingo bem cedinho*&lt;br /&gt;Prá começar a semana,*&lt;br /&gt;Ponha aviso num jornal*&lt;br /&gt;Com letras bem destacadas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e36c09; font-size: 18pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOMEM JOVEM E BONITO*&lt;br /&gt;PROCURA ESCRAVA BEM LERDA*&lt;br /&gt;PORQUE SUA EX-FUTURA ESPOSA*&lt;br /&gt;MANDOU ELE IR À MERDA!*&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="268" src="http://www.contandohistoria.com/veia%20gargalhada.gif" width="242" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 1.5pt; padding-left: 1.5pt; padding-right: 1.5pt; padding-top: 1.5pt; width: 574px;" width="100%"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="width: 574px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; padding-top: 0cm; width: 570px;" width="100%"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3457266457956194936?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3457266457956194936/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3457266457956194936&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3457266457956194936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3457266457956194936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/06/aos-futuros.html' title='Aos futuros...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-719271500577355802</id><published>2010-05-24T21:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T21:10:22.336-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensamento do dia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O maior caos da vida é quando você parte para uma aventura e se apaixona por ela... Aí, é vicio na certa!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O diabo mora nos detalhes...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-719271500577355802?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/719271500577355802/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=719271500577355802&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/719271500577355802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/719271500577355802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/05/pensamento-do-dia.html' title='Pensamento do dia'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4554670873124997450</id><published>2010-05-24T21:04:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T21:05:07.030-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mulher engravida vendo filme pornô em 3D</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.uhull.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/bebefilme3d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="278" src="http://www.uhull.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/bebefilme3d.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Georgia Serif'; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Um casal branco americano teve um bebê negro e a mulher diz que engravidou assistindo a um filme pornô 3D. O pai da criança, o soldado Erick Jhonson, estava há um ano servindo numa base militar no Iraque e, quando voltou para casa encontrou um bebê negro. Sua mulher, Jennifer Stweart, de 38 anos, disse a ele que a criança foi concebida enquanto ela assistia a um filme pornô em três dimensões.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;“Não vejo porque desconfiar dela. Os filmes em 3 D são muito reais. Com a tecnologia de hoje tudo é possível”, disse Erick, que registrou a criança.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Jennifer afirmou que foi a um cinema pornô com as amigas em Nova York. Ela conta que não costuma assistir a filmes pornôs e que só foi dessa vez para ver como ficavam os efeitos em 3D. A criança, segundo ela, se parece com o ator negro do filme. “Um mês depois de ver o filme eu comecei a sentir enjôos e o resultado está aí. Vou processar o cinema e os produtores. Ainda bem que meu marido acreditou em mim. Meu casamento podia estar em risco. Mas ele sabe que eu sou fiel”, disse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4554670873124997450?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4554670873124997450/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4554670873124997450&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4554670873124997450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4554670873124997450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/05/mulher-engravida-vendo-filme-porno-em.html' title='Mulher engravida vendo filme pornô em 3D'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-951349684071841080</id><published>2010-05-19T21:12:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T21:22:56.297-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 4px;"&gt;A vida não para, o mundo gira e as palhaçadas aumentam a cada dia...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #5d9435; font-size: 1.1em; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 4px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #5d9435; font-size: 1.1em; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 4px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #5d9435; font-size: 1.1em; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 4px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #5d9435; font-size: 1.1em; font-style: normal; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 4px;"&gt;Gallo diz:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-size: 1.2em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 16px; padding-bottom: 15px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;é tem coisas inexplicaveis , tipo como surgiu o mundo quem nasceu primeiro o ovo ou a galinha mas uma que não da para explicar mesmo é como uma minina linda assim esta solteira.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; font-size: 1.2em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 16px; padding-bottom: 15px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; font-size: 1.2em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 16px; padding-bottom: 15px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-size: 1.2em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 16px; padding-bottom: 15px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-951349684071841080?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/951349684071841080/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=951349684071841080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/951349684071841080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/951349684071841080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/05/vida-nao-para-o-mundo-gira-e-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4065669773404795400</id><published>2010-05-09T17:27:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T17:28:17.746-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Que a minha vida amorosa anda sendo uma piada sem graça, isso já sei há tempos, mas a cantada que recebi ontem foi o ápice...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mulambo conhecido de outros carnavais, pertence ao pequeno grupo dos palhaços que “saímos juntos mas nunca pegamos”. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Para entendermos melhor a situação em si, terei que incluir um outro ser do qual não me recordo exatamente, mas que todos afirmam que “eu peguei”... Esse aí faz parte da roda também, mas nossa passagem em comum faz parte da minha vaga lembrança alcoólica do carnaval retrasado de Ouro Preto. Bom, o palhaço em questão é provido de bastante melanina e é por aí que a piada começa...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ontem cheguei ao show, linda e serelepe, a tira colo com mais duas cólegas... Assim que entramos nossos foférrimos amiguinhos nos avistaram e vieram nos cumprimentar. Cumprimento tão caloroso que quando percebi, as outras duas já estavam se entrosando (entenda entrosando por beijando).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ok, ok ok... to sobrando em par.... aff... e agora? Entender a situação e me entrosar também ou dar uma de retardada e sair dançando?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Preferi a segunda opção... E fui. Lá lá lá lá lá ... a vida é bela!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Tentei.. mas não deu certo não! O pândego se aproxima com a maior cara de tarado da Lapa-sexta-a-noite e lança:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;- Não dá para fingir que eu sou negão não?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;- Oi?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;- A gente não vai transar, então não vai dar p ver a diferença... Então não dá para fingir só um pouquinho que eu sou negão?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;- (Cara de bunda e pergunta para ganhar tempo) Por quê?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"&gt;- Ué.. você só gosta de negão. Quero te beijar e não sou negao, não da para fingir?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ai ai ai ... Não quis crer no que estava ouvindo... Mas era real!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Isso é o que a gente ganha por pegar um amigo mais escurinho e não pegar os demais mais clarinhos...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que fase!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #cccccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4065669773404795400?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4065669773404795400/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4065669773404795400&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4065669773404795400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4065669773404795400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/05/que-minha-vida-amorosa-anda-sendo-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-9180158926395047997</id><published>2010-05-08T10:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T10:01:19.538-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tenho um ex namorado pândego que insiste em não virar recordação... Ontem o bruto me liga querendo saber se hoje irei a um show que costumávamos ir quando estávamos lendo o romance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;- Vou com mais três ou quatro amigas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;- Que bom... Eu e uns amigos vamos fazer um esquenta aqui em casa antes do show, cai pra cá!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;- Não, não... você só tem amigo feio!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;- Mas para os amigos tem as amigas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hum.. ta... Desenha porque eu não to realizando!&lt;br /&gt;Além de monopolizar o meu passe, isso aqui ta virando o quê? Disk-xota?&lt;br /&gt;Que fase...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-9180158926395047997?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/9180158926395047997/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=9180158926395047997&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/9180158926395047997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/9180158926395047997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/05/tenho-um-ex-namorado-pandego-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5421511154482760161</id><published>2010-05-07T22:43:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T11:56:29.223-03:00</updated><title type='text'>QUERO  AMÁ-LA  OU  AMAR-TE  ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmR3LEsOCwo/RglqfrDXCAI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Oi4uA7im9Ko/s400/cama1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmR3LEsOCwo/RglqfrDXCAI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Oi4uA7im9Ko/s200/cama1.jpg" style="float: left; height: 400px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; width: 400px;" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Amar é ........&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #006600;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O marido, ao chegar em casa no final da noite diz à mulher que já&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;estava deitada :&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #006600;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;- Querida, eu quero amá-la.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #006600;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A mulher, que estava dormindo, com a voz embolada, responde:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #006600;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;- A mala ... ah não sei onde está, não ! Use a mochila que está no&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;maleiro do quarto de visitas.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #006600;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;- Não é isso querida, hoje vou amar-te.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #006600;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;- Por mim, você pode ir até Júpiter, até Saturno e até à puta que o&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;pariu, desde que me deixe dormir em paz...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #006600;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5421511154482760161?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5421511154482760161/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5421511154482760161&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5421511154482760161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5421511154482760161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/05/quero-ama-la-ou-amar-te.html' title='QUERO  AMÁ-LA  OU  AMAR-TE  ?'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bmR3LEsOCwo/RglqfrDXCAI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Oi4uA7im9Ko/s72-c/cama1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-1735211685202029923</id><published>2010-04-30T20:56:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T21:01:14.034-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mulher solteira tem mais fases que a Lua</title><content type='html'>Mulher solteira, independente da idade, tem mais fases que a Lua! Fato comprovado a olho nu... basta ficar 5 minutos ao lado de uma mulher recem solteira ou cascuda de pista.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E vc? Em que fase vc está?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; "&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="margin-top: 0.25em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 0px; font-size: 22px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.4em; color: rgb(124, 169, 198); "&gt;&lt;a href="http://gatosnacama.blogspot.com/2010/04/solteiras-em-fases.html" style="color: rgb(124, 169, 198); text-decoration: none; display: block; font-weight: normal; "&gt;Solteiras em fases&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="post-header-line-1"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase da fossa&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase da pista&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “não acredito mais no amor”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “quero me apaixonar”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase da falta de sexo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “é só sexo”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do to pegando geral&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “ninguém me quer”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase da balada de terça a domingo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “cansei dessa vida”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “eu me amo”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “tem alguma coisa errada comigo”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “quero ir embora daqui”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “só vou se ele me levar”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “melhor investir no trabalho”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “quando é o próximo feriado?”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase da amiga que tem um amigo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do amigo que vira colorido&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “será que esse é o cara?”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “quebrei a cara”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase da fila que anda. “Next, please”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase da fila que volta, “putz, fiz merda”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “agora já era”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do ciúme e inveja&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “não quero ver nenhum homem na minha frente”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “preciso de um homem urgente!”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “então tá decidido”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;b&gt;A fase do “retiro tudo o que foi dito”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); "&gt;Obs.: A ordem das fases, não altera o resultado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFCC;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFCC;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFCC;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-left: 0cm; "&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-1735211685202029923?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/1735211685202029923/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=1735211685202029923&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1735211685202029923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1735211685202029923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/04/mulher-solteira-tem-mais-fases-que-lua.html' title='Mulher solteira tem mais fases que a Lua'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4056464560828219646</id><published>2010-04-13T23:55:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T23:57:49.212-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A puta milionária</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;Um cara, andando pelas ruas de Las Vegas vê uma figura maravilhosa.&lt;br /&gt;Ele inicia uma conversa amigável e acaba fazendo a grande pergunta:&lt;br /&gt;- Quanto você cobra?&lt;br /&gt;- U$ 500 a punheta.&lt;br /&gt;- O quê? U$ 500 por uma punheta? Não pode ser! Nenhuma punheta vale tanto dinheiro!&lt;br /&gt;A puta lhe pergunta:&lt;br /&gt;- Você está vendo aquele restaurante na esquina?&lt;br /&gt;- Sim.  &lt;br /&gt;- Você está vendo aquele outro restaurante na outra esquina?&lt;br /&gt;- Sim.  &lt;br /&gt;- E aquele outro, na outra quadra?&lt;br /&gt;- Sim!&lt;br /&gt;- Bem, eles são meus porque eu bato uma punheta que vale U$ 500.&lt;br /&gt;O cara pensa: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;- Que merda ! A gente só vive uma vez Vou nessa !&lt;br /&gt;Eles entram num motel ali perto..&lt;br /&gt;Dali a pouco ele senta na cama e vê que acabou de ter a melhor punheta do mundo e que valeu os U$ 500. Ele está tão impressionado que diz:&lt;br /&gt;- Um boquete deve ser uns U$ 1.000 ?&lt;br /&gt;- Não, U$3.000.&lt;br /&gt;Ele, em completo estado de choque, diz:&lt;br /&gt;- Não é possível ! Um boquete não pode custar U$ 3.000.&lt;br /&gt;A puta responde:&lt;br /&gt;- Venha até a janela, bonitão. Você está vendo aquele cassino ali? Aquele cassino é meu. E ele é meu porque eu faço um boquete que vale U$ 3.000.&lt;br /&gt;O cara pensa na punheta e no gozo fantástico e decide adiar a troca do carro pro ano seguinte..&lt;br /&gt;- Vamos nessa!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;Dez minutos depois, ele está sentado na cama, mais maravilhado ainda. Ele mal consegue acreditar, mas valeu cada centavo de seu dinheiro. Ele decide, então, meter a mão na poupança por uma experiência inesquecível. Pergunta a ela então:&lt;br /&gt;- E quanto é a xoxotinha, U$ 5.000, 6.000, 7.000 ? Eu pago!&lt;br /&gt;A puta responde:&lt;br /&gt;- Venha até a janela. Você está vendo toda a cidade de Las Vegas? Com todas as suas luzes brilhantes, cassinos, hotéis maravilhosos, casas de show e restaurantes?&lt;br /&gt;- Maldição ! Responde o cara..&lt;br /&gt;- Você é dona de tudo?&lt;br /&gt;- Não, mas seria se eu tivesse uma xoxotinha ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4056464560828219646?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4056464560828219646/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4056464560828219646&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4056464560828219646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4056464560828219646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/04/puta-milionaria.html' title='A puta milionária'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3216864123967622996</id><published>2010-03-20T00:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T00:28:56.731-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Outro dia, outra manhã ensolarada, outra palhaçada a ser execrada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;- Quase não dormi essa noite sabia?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;- Hum,... e por quê?  &lt;i&gt;( juro que tentei não perguntar, mas não poderia perder a piada)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;- Po.. sonhei que você estava me beijando e era o maior beijão!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;( Pausa para assimilar... )&lt;/i&gt;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;O.o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;- É? Quando for assim aproveita bem porque só em sonho mesmo q isso vai acontecer&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3216864123967622996?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3216864123967622996/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3216864123967622996&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3216864123967622996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3216864123967622996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3535182235236570270</id><published>2010-03-20T00:18:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T00:21:34.921-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ola gentemmmmm... Acá estou com muitas novidades para contar mas pouco tempo e disposição para digitalizar tudo. Mudei de profissão e consequentemente de local de trabalho ... Se antes eu convivia quase que 24 horas com mulheres mal amadas e estressadas, hoje em dia passo o tempo todo gargalhando dos marmanjos que trabalham comigo, até porque a gente já sabe que, onde há homem, há palhaçada!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vejamos algumas.......&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;Plena manha de segunda feira, minha cara propícia para tal início de semana, minha segunda semana no novo trabalho, eis que surge o palhaço da repartição:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Que carinha é essa? O final de semana não foi bom não?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Não.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- E por que não?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Porque não... Não fiz nada de bom.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;(Atenção, atenção... holofotes ao centro... o show vai começar!!!!!!!!!!!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;Com as pernas cruzadas, braços abertos e carinha de emoticon feliz ele brada loucamente:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Então deixa eu alegrar o seu dia.... Deixa eu ser o palhaço da sua vida!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Preciso comentar? &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3535182235236570270?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3535182235236570270/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3535182235236570270&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3535182235236570270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3535182235236570270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/03/ola-gentemmmmm.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-6328024277024821941</id><published>2010-03-06T12:18:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T23:48:10.588-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;olá meninos e meninas do meu Brasil... hahaaha (to modesta hj), se antes eu pouco tempo tinha, hj em dia nenhum tempo ando tendo para postar aqui! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Mas, vamos lá... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;As férias acabaram, o carnaval passou, o ano, enfim começou, arrumei um beijante, mudei de emprego... Idas e vindas angustiantes! Excitaçao pelo novo e profunda saudade por ter que encerrar ciclos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Então melancolicamente, hj postarei um texto de Fernando Pessoa que fala justamente sobre isso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Deleitem-se:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);   line-height: 22px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;p class="fr0" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 40px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: block; background-image: url(http://www.pensador.info/img/comllas.gif); background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; font: normal normal normal 1em/normal Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sempre é preciso saber quando uma etapa chega ao final...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se insistirmos em permanecer nela mais do que o tempo necessário, perdemos a alegria e o sentido das outras etapas que precisamos viver.&lt;br /&gt;Encerrando ciclos, fechando portas, terminando capítulos. Não importa o nome que damos, o que importa é deixar no passado os momentos da vida que já se acabaram.&lt;br /&gt;Foi despedida do trabalho? Terminou uma relação? Deixou a casa dos pais? Partiu para viver em outro país? A amizade tão longamente cultivada desapareceu sem explicações?&lt;br /&gt;Você pode passar muito tempo se perguntando por que isso aconteceu....&lt;br /&gt;Pode dizer para si mesmo que não dará mais um passo enquanto não entender as razões que levaram certas coisas, que eram tão importantes e sólidas em sua vida, serem subitamente transformadas em pó. Mas tal atitude será um desgaste imenso para todos: seus pais, seus amigos, seus filhos, seus irmãos, todos estarão encerrando capítulos, virando a folha, seguindo adiante, e todos sofrerão ao ver que você está parado.&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém pode estar ao mesmo tempo no presente e no passado, nem mesmo quando tentamos entender as coisas que acontecem conosco.&lt;br /&gt;O que passou não voltará: não podemos ser eternamente meninos, adolescentes tardios, filhos que se sentem culpados ou rancorosos com os pais, amantes que revivem noite e dia uma ligação com quem já foi embora e não tem a menor intenção de voltar.&lt;br /&gt;As coisas passam, e o melhor que fazemos é deixar que elas realmente possam ir embora...&lt;br /&gt;Por isso é tão importante (por mais doloroso que seja!) destruir recordações, mudar de casa, dar muitas coisas para orfanatos, vender ou doar os livros que tem.&lt;br /&gt;Tudo neste mundo visível é uma manifestação do mundo invisível, do que está acontecendo em nosso coração... e o desfazer-se de certas lembranças significa também abrir espaço para que outras tomem o seu lugar.&lt;br /&gt;Deixar ir embora. Soltar. Desprender-se.&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém está jogando nesta vida com cartas marcadas, portanto às vezes ganhamos, e às vezes perdemos.&lt;br /&gt;Não espere que devolvam algo, não espere que reconheçam seu esforço, que descubram seu gênio, que entendam seu amor. Pare de ligar sua televisão emocional e assistir sempre ao mesmo programa, que mostra como você sofreu com determinada perda: isso o estará apenas envenenando, e nada mais.&lt;br /&gt;Não há nada mais perigoso que rompimentos amorosos que não são aceitos, promessas de emprego que não têm data marcada para começar, decisões que sempre são adiadas em nome do "momento ideal".&lt;br /&gt;Antes de começar um capítulo novo, é preciso terminar o antigo: diga a si mesmo que o que passou, jamais voltará!&lt;br /&gt;Lembre-se de que houve uma época em que podia viver sem aquilo, sem aquela pessoa - nada é insubstituível, um hábito não é uma necessidade.&lt;br /&gt;Pode parecer óbvio, pode mesmo ser difícil, mas é muito importante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encerrando ciclos. Não por causa do orgulho, por incapacidade, ou por soberba, mas porque simplesmente aquilo já não se encaixa mais na sua vida.&lt;br /&gt;Feche a porta, mude o disco, limpe a casa, sacuda a poeira. Deixe de ser quem era, e se transforme em quem é. Torna-te uma pessoa melhor e assegura-te de que sabes bem quem és tu próprio, antes de conheceres alguém e de esperares que ele veja quem tu és..&lt;br /&gt;E lembra-te:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;Tudo o que chega, chega sempre por alguma razão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="aut" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 2px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 2px; padding-left: 35px; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pensador.info/autor/Fernando_Pessoa/" class="autor" style="font-size: 1em; padding-left: 5px; color: rgb(0, 0, 255); "&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-6328024277024821941?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/6328024277024821941/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=6328024277024821941&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6328024277024821941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6328024277024821941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/03/ola-meninos-e-meninas-do-meu-brasil.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-2075443137176614268</id><published>2010-02-10T19:07:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T19:10:01.106-02:00</updated><title type='text'>O pavão e o urubu</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;p class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Conta uma lenda que em uma  planície viviam um Urubu e um Pavão.&lt;br /&gt;Certo dia, o Pavão, sob a sombra de uma árvore, refletiu:&lt;br /&gt;Sou a ave  mais bonita do mundo animal,&lt;br /&gt;tenho uma plumagem colorida e&lt;br /&gt;exuberante, porém nem voar eu posso,&lt;br /&gt;de modo a mostrar minha  beleza.&lt;br /&gt;Feliz é o Urubu que é livre para voar e sua beleza mostrar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;O Urubu, por sua vez, também refletia no alto de uma  árvore:&lt;br /&gt;Que infeliz  ave sou eu, a mais feia de todo o reino animal&lt;br /&gt;e ainda tenho que voar e ser visto por todos;&lt;br /&gt;quem me dera ser belo e vistoso tal qual aquele  Pavão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Foi quando ambas as aves tiveram uma brilhante idéia em comum&lt;br /&gt;e se juntaram para discorrer sobre ela e decidiram:&lt;br /&gt;cruzar-se seria ótimo para ambos,&lt;br /&gt;gerando um descendente que voasse como o Urubu&lt;br /&gt;e tivesse a graciosidade de um Pavão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Então cruzaram... E daí nasceu o PERU,&lt;br /&gt;QUE É FEIO PRA CACETE E NÃO VOA!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="gmail_quote"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330033;"&gt;Moral da história:&lt;br /&gt;"Se tá  ruim, não faz gambiarra que piora!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-2075443137176614268?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/2075443137176614268/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=2075443137176614268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2075443137176614268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2075443137176614268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2010/02/o-pavao-e-o-urubu.html' title='O pavão e o urubu'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5093602593764609524</id><published>2009-12-05T00:46:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T01:18:55.749-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Consulta ginecológica</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Há&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; dois dias &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;atrás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; acordei com o olho esquerdo levemente inchado... algo como uma inflamação na base do pêlo da sobrancelha. Fato que o negócio piorou e agora creio que em dois ou três dias eu dê a luz a um &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;gremilin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Hoje tive minha consulta ginecológica anual e era a primeira paciente do dia. Como  estava chuvoso, nem consegui usar o artifício do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;óculos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; escuro para dar uma disfarçada... fui assim mesmo, na cara e na coragem!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Chegando no consultório, três representantes de laboratório aguardavam também o médico, que ainda &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; havia chegado. Naquela &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;checada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;rápida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt; do ambiente, noto me olhavam com uma intrigante cara de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;interrogação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;...  Aí recordo-me do olho...  (que cacete!) No mínimo estavam pensando que eu havia tomado umas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;porradas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;! Abstraio ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Já deitadinha para ser examinada pelo médico, perereca ao vento, nada nem um pouco constrangedor, ele mete o dedão para examinar tudo direitinho (...rs) e a outra mão por cima da barriga.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;(creio eu que essa seja a parte da consulta que as velhinhas dão gargalhadas que são ouvidas por toda a recepção) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Bem.. até aí tudo normal, de praste, até que ao olhar para a minha face, ele se depara com meu lindo olho rosa chiclete!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;- O que foi isso??? =O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;- Não sei dr., acordei assim ontem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;- E dói? (nesse momento ele começa a examinar minunciosamente com a mão que estava sobre a barriga)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;- Dói sim... quando toca! Do contrário não.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;- Você fez a sobrancelha quando?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;- Não faço...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;- Mas é tão certinha né, que até parece que você faz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;ta ta ta ta ta... tudo bem.. a gente pode até troca uma figurinha... te dou o telefone da minha depiladora... mas eis a cena: Cadê a outra mãozinha??? Cadê o dedinho????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Quase falei: eiiiii, vim aqui para você examinar outra parte!!! Tira o dedo!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;Bem, mexi as perninhas e soltei um leve 'ai' e isso bastou para q ele entendesse que tinha esquecido o dedo em algum buraco...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;- Você está ótima! Está liberada!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Enfim... tem médico que esquece pinça, bisturi, e inúmeros instrumentos, já outros, o dedo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFCC;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFCC;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFCC;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5093602593764609524?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5093602593764609524/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5093602593764609524&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5093602593764609524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5093602593764609524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/12/consulta-ginecologica.html' title='Consulta ginecológica'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-9220202656161439438</id><published>2009-10-27T20:14:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T20:17:55.498-02:00</updated><title type='text'>COISAS QUE SÓ AS MULHERES SABEM O SIGNIFICADO:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Aliança &gt; Garantia financeira.&lt;br /&gt;Amante &gt; Homem que faz tudo aquilo que o marido nunca faz.&lt;br /&gt;Amor impossível &gt; Um pretendente pobre.&lt;br /&gt;Batom &gt; Poderosa arma feminina que deixa marcas fatais.&lt;br /&gt;Bolsa &gt; Membro essencial no funcionamento do corpo feminino.&lt;br /&gt;Cansaço &gt; Vontade de ficar sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;Carteira &gt; Principal órgão masculino.&lt;br /&gt;Certeza &gt; Quase certeza.&lt;br /&gt;Confiança &gt; Ação incompatível com os homens.&lt;br /&gt;Dor de cabeça &gt; Falta de vontade.&lt;br /&gt;Extravasar &gt; Galinhar.&lt;br /&gt;Falta de atenção &gt; Falta de presentes.&lt;br /&gt;Fracasso &gt; Perder um homem para uma mulher mais magra.&lt;br /&gt;Gravidez &gt; Investimento a longo prazo.&lt;br /&gt;Minutos &gt; Horas. Principalmente antes de sair.&lt;br /&gt;Maquiagem &gt; Realce da beleza natural e disfarce de feiúra original.&lt;br /&gt;Meia calça &gt; Camada de acabamento das pernas.&lt;br /&gt;Namorado &gt; Desculpa usada para despistar homens indesejados.&lt;br /&gt;Nunca &gt; Por enquanto não...&lt;br /&gt;Pílula &gt; Medicamento usado no momento certo e suspenso no momento oportuno.&lt;br /&gt;Problemas conjugais &gt; Ausência de orgasmo.&lt;br /&gt;Satisfação &gt; Verbete desconhecido no dicionário feminino.&lt;br /&gt;Seios &gt; Sinônimo de maçaneta, pois também abrem muitas portas.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez &gt; Sim.&lt;br /&gt;Terapia de grupo &gt; Shopping com as amigas.  &lt;br /&gt;Valorização &gt; Flores no dia seguinte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-9220202656161439438?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/9220202656161439438/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=9220202656161439438&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/9220202656161439438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/9220202656161439438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/10/coisas-que-so-as-mulheres-sabem-o.html' title='COISAS QUE SÓ AS MULHERES SABEM O SIGNIFICADO:'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3842917755318133258</id><published>2009-10-27T20:03:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T20:14:21.581-02:00</updated><title type='text'>SÓ AS MULHERES ENTENDEM...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10.&lt;/strong&gt; Por que é bom ter doze pares de sapatos pretos;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;09.&lt;/strong&gt; A diferença entre creme, marfim, e bege claro;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;08.&lt;/strong&gt; Que chorar pode ser divertido;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;07.&lt;/strong&gt; Roupas soltas;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;06.&lt;/strong&gt; Uma salada, bebida diet, e um sundae de chocolate fazem um almoço equilibrado;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;05.&lt;/strong&gt; Descobrindo um vestido de marca em oferta pode ser considerada uma experiência de vida; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;04.&lt;/strong&gt; A inexatidão de toda balança;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;03.&lt;/strong&gt; Achar o homem ideal é difícil, mas achar um bom cabeleireiro é praticamente impossível;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;02.&lt;/strong&gt; Por que um telefonema entre duas mulheres nunca dura menos que dez minutos;&lt;br /&gt;E O TÓPICO NÚMERO UM QUE SÓ AS MULHERES ENTENDEM:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;01.&lt;/strong&gt; AS OUTRAS MULHERES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3842917755318133258?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3842917755318133258/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3842917755318133258&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3842917755318133258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3842917755318133258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-as-mulheres-entendem.html' title='SÓ AS MULHERES ENTENDEM...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4194100585397088973</id><published>2009-10-27T19:50:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T20:03:07.381-02:00</updated><title type='text'>COISAS QUE SÓ UMA MULHER CONSEGUE...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Passar a vida inteira, lutando contra o próprio cabelo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Comprar uma blusa que não combina com mais nada, só porque o preço estava irresistível.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Ser tratada feito idiota pelo mecânico na oficina. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Fingir naturalidade durante um exame ginecológico. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* O poder de uma calça jeans para radiografar a estrutura do corpo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Ter crise conjugal, crise existencial, crise de identidade, crise de nervos! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Ser mãe solteira, mãe casada, mãe separada, mãe do marido. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Assistir a um vídeo tape de futebol, só para fazer companhia ao gato! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Lavar a calcinha no chuveiro. E depois pendurá-la na torneira, para horror do sexo masculino.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Escutar que: mulher no volante perigo constante; homem do lado perigo dobrado... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Depilar a perna de 15 em 15 dias - com cera! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Rasgar a meia na entrada da festa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Sentir-se pronta para conquistar o mundo, quando está usando um batom novo! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Chorar no banheiro, se olhando no espelho para ver qual o melhor ângulo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Achar que o seu relacionamento acabou, e depois descobrir que era tudo tensão pré-menstrual. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Nunca saber se é para dividir a conta, ou se é para ficar meiguinha . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Ser chamada de tia por uns brotinhos bem gatinhos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Colocar uma cinta para disfarçar a barriga. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Ficar completamente feliz porque ele ligou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Dizer não, para ele insistir bastante, e aí ter que dizer sim! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;* Sorrir gentilmente para o cliente enquanto uma cólica louca te rasga como se fosse uma bazuca...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4194100585397088973?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4194100585397088973/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4194100585397088973&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4194100585397088973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4194100585397088973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/10/coisas-que-so-uma-mulher-consegue.html' title='COISAS QUE SÓ UMA MULHER CONSEGUE...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5656875465376921906</id><published>2009-09-22T20:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T20:50:50.369-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A velha cantada velha...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Já dizia minha vó: Quem ta na chuva é para se molhar.... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas tudo tem um certo limite né... e, ultimamente, as cantadas masculinas tem andado com uma profunda falta de criatividade...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vamos a mais recente... feita por um palhacinho bem maduro, 41 velinhas ja apagadas...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Filippe — segunda, 21 setembro 2009 21:18&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Eu tenho 2 peixinhos, o migo e o tigo. Mas minha mãe disse que não pode ser egoista, dái se tu quiser eu te dô um. Você fica com migo e eu fico com tigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A mãe dele poderia ter ensinado que não é bonito fazer feio...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5656875465376921906?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5656875465376921906/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5656875465376921906&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5656875465376921906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5656875465376921906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/09/velha-cantada-velha.html' title='A velha cantada velha...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-7865109599282915021</id><published>2009-08-19T21:19:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T20:47:36.978-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Zé punhetinha</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Há algum tempo atrás, eis que surge um ser não muito &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;convencional&lt;/span&gt; em nosso meio... o zé &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;punhetinha&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;O palhaço era professor de &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;vôlei&lt;/span&gt; num clube perto de casa e treinava meu irmão. Após algumas investidas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;frustradas&lt;/span&gt; na minha pessoa, o destino dá-lhe uma &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;forcinha&lt;/span&gt; e, através do orkut, ele se engraça com uma amiga minha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Papo vai, papo vem e os dois começam a estabelecer uma relação mais proximal... Durante as longas noites &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;compartilhadas&lt;/span&gt; no &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;msn&lt;/span&gt;, nada mais útil para fazer, o rapaz exibia toda a sua virilidade pela &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;webcan&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Depois de muito "bate papo" (não só papo era batido...), eles resolvem se conhecer pessoalmente... Na ocasião do fato, era comemorada mais uma primavera do rapaz e minha amiga, muito gentilmente foi fazer uma festinha particular...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Atenção atenção... o &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;espetáculo&lt;/span&gt; vai começar:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Com os &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hormônios&lt;/span&gt; em ebulição, devido as &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pré&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;estréias&lt;/span&gt; que o rapaz exibia todas as noites, foram &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;direto&lt;/span&gt; ao assunto em questão... Mão aqui, boca ali e tudo fluía bem..., mas nada do cara penetrar... &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tava&lt;/span&gt; ate parecendo &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Faustão&lt;/span&gt; dia de domingo perdendo o tempo da piada!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Até que depois de alguns rebates falsos, o &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;palhacinho&lt;/span&gt; resolve sair do ensaio e partir para a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;apresentação&lt;/span&gt; do &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;espetáculo&lt;/span&gt; circense, e.... &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tchan&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tchan&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tchan&lt;/span&gt;, ... eis que o viril &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;moçoilo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BROXA&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Sim sim minha gente... ele &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;brouxouuuuuu&lt;/span&gt;!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Bem... não vamos ser hipócritas... isso acontece nas melhores trepadas... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Sendo assim... mais uma chance para o rapaz &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;né&lt;/span&gt;!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;E os trabalhos recomeçaram... sendo que mão ali e boca aqui eram coadjuvantes diante da insistente &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;punheta&lt;/span&gt; que o pândego batia para manter o &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;amiguinho&lt;/span&gt; em pleno funcionamento...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Mais uma tentativa e .............................................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;na &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;traveeeeeee&lt;/span&gt;!!!! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Broxou&lt;/span&gt; de &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;novoooo&lt;/span&gt;!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Como assim minha gente??? &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Perae&lt;/span&gt;.. pára tudo!!! É o zé &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;punhetinha&lt;/span&gt; em cena...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Já &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;broxa&lt;/span&gt; com toda a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_33" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;broxeza&lt;/span&gt; do rapaz, minha amiga entende e recado e colabora tocando &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_34" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;umazinha&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;No dia seguinte, eis que o palhaço zé &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_35" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;punhetinha&lt;/span&gt; tenta se explicar pelo &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_36" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;msn&lt;/span&gt; e ... (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_37" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;rs&lt;/span&gt;) liga a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_38" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;webcan&lt;/span&gt; mais uma vez!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sorte a minha que passei a vez! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_39" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hahahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-7865109599282915021?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/7865109599282915021/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=7865109599282915021&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7865109599282915021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7865109599282915021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/08/ze-punhetinha.html' title='Zé punhetinha'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-1027009307191453926</id><published>2009-06-30T21:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T22:09:54.788-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;Já que prometi &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;posts&lt;/span&gt; sobre namorados, aqui incluiremos mais um elemento típico das relações, desde que o mundo é mundo, a amante. Se ter um relacionamento sério com alguém é complicado, ser amante, o terceiro elemento, a outra, é mais complexo ainda pois envolvem sentimentos &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sobre humanos&lt;/span&gt;. Há pessoas que passam uma vida inteira &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;compartilhando&lt;/span&gt; suas experiências amorosas com outro casal, vivendo às escuras, coadjuvante da &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;própria&lt;/span&gt; relação. Ser amante é um dom.&lt;br /&gt;Vamos aos fatos…&lt;br /&gt;O último dos palhaços a frequentar o picadeiro &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;atualmente&lt;/span&gt; remete-se ao &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;status&lt;/span&gt; de “namorando”.&lt;br /&gt;Depois de um tempo juntos, chegamos a um acordo diplomático de que não sairíamos mais, pois o relacionamento não atava nem desatava. Tudo certo até o pandego resolver ser meu amigo… (É filho, a vida tem dessas coisas… ) Digamos que ele bem que tentou mas a carne é fraca e ele não resistiu. Mesmo assim, apesar das investidas pesadas do rapaz, nunca mais havíamos nos relacionado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; caro leitor, holofotes no centro… o &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;show&lt;/span&gt; vai começar!&lt;br /&gt;Eis que dia desses nos encontramos. Papo vai, papo vem , mão aqui, mão ali, …, acabamos trocando uns beijinhos. Nosso maior desafio é que além da &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;química&lt;/span&gt;, a física também é bem forte entre nós… &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;rs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É então, durante a aula sobre atrito, que o &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;protagonista&lt;/span&gt; da melhor palhaçada do ano lança a sua pérola:&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oscar&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;goes&lt;/span&gt; to …&lt;/strong&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;- A gente poderia ir para o motel… Se eu te pego hoje, você não ia se arrepender!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Silêncio com cara de deboche…)&lt;/em&gt; – Ah é??&lt;br /&gt;- Você vive dizendo que eu não presto, que não valho nada, mas olha só… esse tesão é só por você. Não ligo para mais ninguém, não como ninguém…&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Gargalhadas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ecoammmmmm&lt;/span&gt;!!!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;Essa vai para o blog! É a melhor do ano! Tudinho só meu…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homem é tudo palhaço mesmo… Quando não faz na entrada, caga na saída! Deve ser época de colheita porque a safra de &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cafas&lt;/span&gt; no mercado anda grande.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;Como diria uma sábia amiga: se você não foi a fiel, vai ser o &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lanchinho&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;To é longe disso &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;né&lt;/span&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"&gt;Então digo e repito sempre para o rapaz circense:&lt;br /&gt;- Obrigada Senhor por não permitir que eu fosse a trouxa da vez!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-1027009307191453926?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/1027009307191453926/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=1027009307191453926&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1027009307191453926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1027009307191453926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/08/ja-que-prometi-posts-sobre-namorados.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3516944438763707715</id><published>2009-06-16T22:53:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T22:11:49.530-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Punheta com arnica</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Arnica&lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Arnica&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;montana&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Seus poderes são conhecidos desde a Idade Média - a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;arnica&lt;/span&gt; é originária das regiões montanhosas do norte da Europa e desde tempos remotos é usada na cicatrização de ferimentos graças às suas propriedades regeneradoras de tecidos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;A milagrosa &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;florzinha&lt;/span&gt;, no entanto, deve ser utilizada com cautela. Recomenda-se utilizá-la para uso interno apenas sob supervisão médica. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;*************************************************************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Adepta da medicina alternativa, parceira de longa data, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Susie&lt;/span&gt; que é da área médica &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;vivenciou&lt;/span&gt; um dos trágicos e &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cômicos&lt;/span&gt; episódios entre casais que tenho ciência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;O pândego que frequentava o picadeiro da moça andava sentindo fortes dores lombares.... Ela, muito solícita, lançou mão de uma &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pomadinha&lt;/span&gt; de &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;arnica&lt;/span&gt;, famosa receita da vovó, e prontamente se pôs a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;massagear&lt;/span&gt; as costas do rapaz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Mãozinha vai... mãozinha vem... &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Susie&lt;/span&gt; sente o palhaço mais &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;relaxadinho&lt;/span&gt; e muda o rumo da prosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Deitado de frente, a massagem começa a ter uma conotação bem sexual e a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;moçoila&lt;/span&gt; vai em busca de partes mais rígidas... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Simultaneamente aos movimentos repetitivos, o pândego começa a emitir gemidos.... que logo se transformaram em grunhidos... Acreditando que a massagem estava surtindo um efeito inimaginável, nossa amiga empresária circense intensifica os movimentos até ser ser interrompida por um grito de pânico : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;- "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Cagalhoooooooo&lt;/span&gt;! Ta queimando meu pau!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;E o moço sai correndo para o banheiro lavar o &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;brinquedinho&lt;/span&gt; ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Então fica aqui a dica: &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;punheta&lt;/span&gt; e &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;arnica&lt;/span&gt; não combinam, mesmo sob supervisão médica! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3516944438763707715?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3516944438763707715/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3516944438763707715&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3516944438763707715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3516944438763707715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/06/punheta-com-arnica.html' title='Punheta com arnica'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-250101301012275782</id><published>2009-06-16T22:41:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T22:51:47.344-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Enfim passou o dia mais temido do ano por todos aqueles que caminham na estrada da vida alone... in the rain... Esfregado nas faces solitárias, exaltado em comerciais e outdoors país afora, o dia dos namorados foi a favor do desejo de milhões de solteiros com dor de cotovelo: frio e muito chuvoso! Pelo menos assim aturamos só 50% dos casais corajosos que opataram por sair de casa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Você que  passou a data abraçada com sua amiga panela de brigadeiro ou com uma garrafa do João Andarilho... Calma, calma, quanto drama! O dia 12 de junho é puro marketing! Geralmente se comemora a data na fila no restaurante, com bolhas no pé e o saldo negativo na conta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Assim... ao som de "Love is in the air" vou começar a relatar alguns fatos interessantes vivenciados no mundinho dos namorados.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Divirtam-se!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-250101301012275782?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/250101301012275782/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=250101301012275782&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/250101301012275782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/250101301012275782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/06/enfim-passou-o-dia-mais-temido-do-ano.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5185544654843182611</id><published>2009-06-11T23:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T23:46:43.447-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Amarre seu jegue!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;12 de &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;junho&lt;/span&gt;... Enfim a famosa data, tão amada pelos enamorados e odiada pela classe feminina desquitada.&lt;br /&gt;Esse é aquele dia que poderia chover e fazer muito frio o dia inteiro... assim &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;você&lt;/span&gt; ficaria debaixo das cobertas só esperando o dia 13 chegar! Para mim, tanto faz.... ou melhor, tanto fazia! Basta o dia se aproximar para perceber que sua imunidade anda baixa, e todo o marketing começa a lhe &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;afetar&lt;/span&gt; profundamente.&lt;br /&gt;Aí &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;vc&lt;/span&gt; pensa na vida, nos encontros e desencontros amorosos; nos inúmeros príncipes desencantados...&lt;br /&gt;Recordo-me que ano passado, nesta mesma data, mantinha um relacionamento de mais de um ano, mas o falecido não concordava em render-se aos apelos da &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mídia&lt;/span&gt; e comemorar o dia dos namorados. Sendo assim, ao me ligar por um motivo alheio a data, ele surpreendeu-me na fila de uma loja famosa comprando chocolates com uma amiga &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;recém&lt;/span&gt; separada MORENA (isso mesmo... a famosa &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bandida&lt;/span&gt; aposentada do 1º &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;post&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;Ah.. mas isso aqui está ficando muito sério e melodramático! Nem parece o blog da Loira!&lt;br /&gt;Vamos aos fatos!&lt;br /&gt;Um ano se passou e estar solteira é uma opção clássica para a maioria das &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bandidas&lt;/span&gt;. Opção ou falta de boas opções??? Nem sei bem...&lt;br /&gt;Os relacionamentos hoje em dia são baseados em parâmetros bem estranhos. Não canso de topar na noite com palhaços que namoram &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;há&lt;/span&gt; anos luz e dão a famosa &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;escapadinha&lt;/span&gt; depois da meia noite, deixando a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Cinderela&lt;/span&gt; em casa, iludida e apaixonada. Muitos outros que possuem o mesmo &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;status&lt;/span&gt;, mas não cansam de lhe cantar pelo &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;msn&lt;/span&gt; ou mandar &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;recadinhos&lt;/span&gt; maliciosos por depoimento.... &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Cafajestes&lt;/span&gt;! Aí você se pergunta... E &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ninguém&lt;/span&gt; descobre nada? Devem ser altistas, eu creio. Vive-se bem e feliz, isso que importa!&lt;br /&gt;Como não vivo no mundo-cor-de-rosa, é complicado um &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lindinho&lt;/span&gt;-fofo-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bonzinho&lt;/span&gt; convencer-me de algo agora...&lt;br /&gt;Então vamos colher os frutos da vida de solteiro!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Hoje&lt;/span&gt;, se o dia promete, a noite então... o &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;auto intitulado&lt;/span&gt; pelas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bandidas&lt;/span&gt; de "Bonde das encalhadas" cairá na pista... E isso será assunto para outro &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;post&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto isso, aguardo o príncipe... &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;rs&lt;/span&gt;... pela demora, o palhaço deve estar vindo de &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jegue&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5185544654843182611?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5185544654843182611/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5185544654843182611&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5185544654843182611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5185544654843182611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/06/amarre-seu-jegue.html' title='Amarre seu jegue!'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-8768635265978361630</id><published>2009-06-03T22:30:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T22:38:38.560-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Quantas pessoas são necessárias para trocar uma lâmpada?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Depende... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Gays? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Seis: um para trocar e cinco para ficar gritando: Linda! Poderosa! Maravilhosa! Divina! Tuuudoo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Psicólogos?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Apenas um, mas a lâmpada PRECISA QUERER ser trocada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Loiras? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Cinco: uma para segurar a lâmpada e outras quatro para girarem a cadeira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Consultores?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Dois... Um sempre abandona o trabalho no meio do projeto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Bêbados?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Um, só pra segurar a lâmpada, enquanto o teto vai rodando&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Analistas de sistemas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Trocar pra quê! Não tem problema algum com a lâmpada velha, porque nos testes aqui no escritório ela funcionava bem..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Cantores sertanejos? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Dois: um troca a lâmpada e o outro escreve uma canção sobre os bons tempos da lâmpada antiga...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Machões?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Nenhum: macho não tem medo de escuro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Argentinos?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Um só: ele segura a lâmpada e o mundo gira ao seu redor.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mulher com TPM? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Só ela! Sozinha!! Porque ninguém, dentro desta casa sabe como trocar uma lâmpada! São um bando de IMPRESTÁVEIS!!! Eles nem percebem que a lâmpada queimou! Eles podem ficar em casa no escuro por três dias antes de notar que a BOSTA da lâmpada queimou! E quando eles notarem, vão passar mais cinco dias NO ESCURO esperando que EU troque a lâmpada, porque eles acham que eu sou a ESCRAVA deles!!! E quando eles se derem conta de que eu não vou trocar a lâmpada, eles ainda vão ficar mais dois dias no escuro porque não sabem que as lâmpadas novas ficam dentro da DROGA da despensa! E se, por algum milagre, eles encontrarem as lâmpadas novas, vão arrastar a MERDA da poltrona da sala até o lugar onde está a lâmpada queimada e vão arranhar o piso todo, porque são INCAPAZES de saber onde a PUTA da escada fica guardada! É inútil esperar que eles troquem a lâmpada, então sou eu mesmo quem vai trocá-la! E como eu sou uma mulher independente, vou lá e troco!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E SOME DA MINHA FRENTE!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-8768635265978361630?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/8768635265978361630/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=8768635265978361630&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/8768635265978361630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/8768635265978361630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/06/quantas-pessoas-sao-necessarias-para.html' title='Quantas pessoas são necessárias para trocar uma lâmpada?'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-2027565473636430903</id><published>2009-06-01T22:28:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T22:39:13.592-03:00</updated><title type='text'>VANTAGENSS DE SE TER UM AMANTE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Foi provado, após acompanhamento de vários casos,que toda mulher precisa de dois homens: um em casa e outro fora de casa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Para entender, é muito simples: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O marido cuida da parte financeira, paga as contas dos filhos, da esposa e da casa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O outro cuida de você. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O marido fala dos problemas, das contas a pagar, das dificuldades do dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O outro fala da saudade que sentiu de você durante a sua ausência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O marido compra uma roupa nova para ir a um compromisso de trabalho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O outro tira essa mesma roupa só pra você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O marido dorme com aquela camiseta velha e de cuecas as vezes até de meia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O outro dorme completamente nu, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;abraçadinho&lt;/span&gt; a você. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O marido reclama das coisas que tem que consertar em casa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O outro te recebe no apartamento onde tudo funciona perfeitamente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O marido telefona pra casa e fica perguntando o que tem que comprar no supermercado, padaria e etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O outro telefona só pra dizer que comprou um champanhe que você vai adorar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O marido reclama do chefe, do trabalho, do cansaço de acordar cedo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O outro reclama a sua ausência e os dias que fica sem te ver. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bem, você vai me perguntar : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;- Por que não trocar o marido pelo amante?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Pelo simples fato de que o amante, se for viver com você,passará para o papel de marido e logo, logo, você precisará arrumar outro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ah...esqueci o imprescindível.... o outro nunca vai tomar cerveja com os amigos numa sexta-feira!! - ele estará com você enquanto o corno esta enchendo a cara com um monte de macho do lado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"Tire um tempo para deixar de viver a vida que você leva e viver a vida que você sonha"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-2027565473636430903?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/2027565473636430903/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=2027565473636430903&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2027565473636430903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2027565473636430903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/06/vantagem-de-ter-um-amante.html' title='VANTAGENSS DE SE TER UM AMANTE'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-9209729314397668748</id><published>2009-05-28T20:56:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:02:15.528-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Palhaço Ibope</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Mais uma do orkut.... Creio que isto deva ser uma vingança malígna contra a minha pessoa....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Após descoberta minha verdadeira identidade, palhaços do mundo inteiro buscam por um holofote sequer no meu picadeiro!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.orkut.com.br/Main#Profile.aspx?rl=tr&amp;amp;uid=17243750016491318060"&gt;Thiago&lt;/a&gt;: &lt;strong&gt;Look at my face? Olhou?Então me diz o seu msn,pq temos pendências a serem resolvidas...rs Sem mais,Beijos e boa noite! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Desconheço o cidadão circense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;E o Saci o adicionou????? Nem eu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-9209729314397668748?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/9209729314397668748/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=9209729314397668748&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/9209729314397668748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/9209729314397668748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/05/palhaco-ibope.html' title='Palhaço Ibope'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-6901617550288282823</id><published>2009-05-28T20:39:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T20:53:42.861-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Palhacinho ginasial: o retorno</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Achando que as investidas do palhaço escolar da vez haviam terminado, abro meu orkut, lépida e saltitante e me deparo com o seguinte depoimento:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Palhaço Ginasial:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Não aceita não!)To mandando por aqui pq não sei se poderia mandar como recado!Bem como já foram várias vezes no ginásio e como já tentei aqui tb, (no MSN), queria tentar marca alguma coisa, quem sabe apenas um suco ou um simples encontro, já q gostaria muito de uma brecha pra poder entrar no seu coração... Por isso to mandando esse pequeno depoimento de sinceridade, mas tudo bem, se não vai dar, se não pode ou se não quer, pelo menos eu tentei!! Espero que me de boas notícias quando me responder, mas se não forem, pelo menos serão sinceras!!!!Aguardando.......Beijos...Se cuida...Ah e pensa com carinho! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Chicoteia Jesus!!!! Ele quer uma brecha......... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;E o pior é que o palhaço é a moda brasileira! Nos conhecemos na antiga 6ª série, quando tínhamos 12 anos, ou seja, há mais de 10 anos atras... E o cara não desiste nunnnnca!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Mas pode deixar que vou pensar com muito carinho... Ah, se vou... O problema é que loira pensando é um problema né... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;E Curupira respondeu o depoimento? ........ Nem eu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-6901617550288282823?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/6901617550288282823/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=6901617550288282823&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6901617550288282823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/6901617550288282823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/05/palhacinho-ginasial-o-retorno.html' title='Palhacinho ginasial: o retorno'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4232985902567250704</id><published>2009-05-23T21:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T21:46:11.420-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Procura-se um barrigudinho</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Meninas de todo o Brasil, tenho um conselho valioso para dar aqui: se você acabou de conhecer um rapaz, ficou com ele algumas vezes e já está começando a imaginar o dia do seu casamento e o nome dos seus filhos, pare agora e me escute! Na próxima vez que encontrá-lo, tente (disfarçadamente) descobrir como é sua barriga. Se for musculosa, torneada, estilo 'tanquinho', fuja!&lt;br /&gt;Comece a correr agora e só pare quando estiver a uma distância segura. É fria, vai por mim. Homem bom de verdade precisa, obrigatoriamente, ostentar uma barriguinha de chopp. Se não, não presta. Estou me referindo àqueles que, por não colocarem a beleza física acima de tudo (como fazem os malditosmetrossexuais) , acabaram cultivando uma pancinha adorável. Esses, sim, são pra manter por perto.&lt;br /&gt;E eu digo por quê: Você nunca verá um homem barrigudinho tirando a camisa dentro de uma boate e dançando como um idiota, em cima do balcão. Se fizer isso, é pra fazer graça pra turma - e provavelmente será engraçado, mesmo.Já os 'tanquinhos' farão isso esperando que todas as mulheres do recinto caiam de amores - e eu tenho dó das que caem. Quando sentam em um boteco, numa tarde de calor, adivinha o que os pançudos pedem pra beber? Cerveja!Ou Coca-cola, tudo bem também. Mas você nunca os verá pedindo suco ou coca-light. Ou, pior ainda, um copo com gelo,pra beber a mistura patética de vodka com 'clight' que trouxe de casa. E você não será informada sobrequantas calorias tem no seu copo de cerveja, porque eles não sabem e nem se importam com essa informação.&lt;br /&gt;E no quesito comida, os homens com barriguinha também não deixam a desejar.Você nunca irá ouvir um 'ah, amor, 'Quarteirão' é gostoso, mas você podia provar uma 'McSalad' com água de coco'. Nunca! Esses homens entendem que, se eles não estão em forma perfeita o tempo todo, você também não precisaestar. Mais uma vez, repito: não é pra chegar ao exagero total e mamarleite condensado na lata todo dia! Mas uma gordurinha aqui e ali não matará um relacionamento. Se ele souber cozinhar, então, bingo! Encontrou a sorte grande, amiga. Ele vai fazer pra você todas as delícias que sabe, e nunca torcerá o nariz quando você repetir o prato. Pelo contrário, ficará feliz.&lt;br /&gt;Outra coisa fundamental: homens barrigudinhos são confortáveis!Experimente pegar a tábua de passar roupas e deitar em cima dela. Pois essa é a sensação de se deitar no peito de um musculoso besta. Terrível! Gostoso mesmo é se encaixar no ombro de um fofinho, isso que é conforto.E na hora de dormir de conchinha, então? Parece que a barriga se encaixa perfeitamente na nossa lombar, e fica sensacional. Homens com barriga não são metidos, nem prepotentes, nem donos do mundo. Eles sabem conquistar as mulheres por maneiras que excedem a barreira do físico. E eles aprenderam a conversar, a ser bem humorados, a usar o olhar e o sorriso pra conquistar.&lt;br /&gt;É por isso que eu digo que homens com barriguinha sabem fazer uma mulher feliz!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(autor: Carla Moura, psicóloga, especialista em sexologia e terapia de casais)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4232985902567250704?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4232985902567250704/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4232985902567250704&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4232985902567250704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4232985902567250704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/05/procura-se-um-barrigudinho.html' title='Procura-se um barrigudinho'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5897638763252396119</id><published>2009-05-23T21:19:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T21:19:53.987-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/ShiSo8f5y0I/AAAAAAAADT0/u-ryT4NmkOo/s1600-h/camiseta%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 319px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339178590380084034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/ShiSo8f5y0I/AAAAAAAADT0/u-ryT4NmkOo/s400/camiseta%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5897638763252396119?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5897638763252396119/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5897638763252396119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5897638763252396119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5897638763252396119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/ShiSo8f5y0I/AAAAAAAADT0/u-ryT4NmkOo/s72-c/camiseta%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4306980469897002398</id><published>2009-05-23T10:27:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T10:33:59.358-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O INDISPENSÁVEL GUIA DE SOBREVIVÊNCIA PARA A NOITE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;Considerações sobre a prática da cantada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;O que passa pela cabeça de um homem quando ele decide abordar uma mulher? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Nada, é a resposta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Mas é preciso pensar um pouco mais sobre o assunto, por que alguma coisa deve acontecer no organismo desses seres durante a abordagem, não é possível que nada os motive, deve existir uma força interna que movimenta o corpo masculino em direção ao corredor da morte que é a cantada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Por exemplo, existe o tipo adepto da telepatia: ele se posta ao lado da fêmea, dá um cutucão e quando é finalmente percebido, nada diz. Apenas considera que seu olhar penetrante e seu físico sedutor já trazem em si a idéia "eu quero teu corpo". Resta à pobre vítima ignorar o ocorrido. Provavelmente, a força motriz dessa abordagem, além da falta de bom senso, é a presunção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Um clássico do tema é o "você vem sempre aqui?". Não, só quando eu tenho vontade de conversar com chatos. Por que essa pergunta, por que o indivíduo quer saber se a moça freqüenta ou não aquele lugar? Vai mudar alguma coisa? "Ah, bom, você vem sempre, então já deve ter me visto fazer perguntas idiotas para outras mulheres" ou então "ah, é a primeira vez! Posso falar qualquer bobagem que você vai acreditar!".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Mas se existem os que primam pela falta de criatividade, há os que a têm em excesso. Há tempos atrás, uma inocente menina viu um rapaz numa boate. Achou bonito o que viu, resolveu então passar como quem nada quer ao seu lado, quem sabe iniciavam uma conversa, pediu licença (quis ser educada). Foi aí que seu mundo de ilusão em relação aos homens caiu. O rapaz, até então, bonito e interessante, disse: "custa 80 centavos". 80 centavos?! Quê isso, pesquisa de mercado? Ele analisou os custos de ceder passagem, calculou a margem de lucro e resolveu faturar alguém com esse papo cretino?! Muita coisa já foi dita, como "só deixo você passar se me der um beijo", "um sorriso"; mas 80 centavos... É muita vontade de continuar sozinho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;A noite também torna os homens superlativos, quem nunca ouviu: "você é a mais linda aqui", "você é a mulher mais maravilhosa que eu já vi" ou "eu tenho muita sorte por estar contigo"? É importante frisar que isso é repetido infinitamente ou até que uma pobre coitada caia na conversa do exagerado.Se eu tivesse que escolher qual o defeito mais irritante dos homens, eu diria a mania de mentir, não importa onde, quando, para quem ou sobre o quê. Acho que é uma necessidade fisiológica, um compulsão irrefreável. Eu sei que ele está mentindo, a verdade não me chatearia, mas mesmo assim, ele tem que mentir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Também existem os adeptos da seita onomatopéica: eles não falam, apenas emitem ruídos. Você está caminhando, vê um ser do sexo masculino na direção oposta, pensa "tudo bem, nada de mais, apenas um daqueles, como se chamam...homens, não?". Cara amiga, esse foi o seu primeiro erro. Quando estiver ao seu lado, ele vai projetar a cabeça em sua direção e proferir: "ssss", "hum" e toda uma sorte de sons constrangedores e profundamente escrotos. Permanece a dúvida: qual a necessidade de tamanha idiotice? O senhor vai explodir se não fizer isso?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Deuses da babaquice e falta de imaginação alguns homens acreditam-se um ser teândrico, habitantes da terra por piedade a essas pobres mulheres que merecem a oportunidade mística e extrasensorial de uma noite com eles. A postura de um homem teândrico já denuncia sua classe: olhar superior, aproximam-se cheios de suingue, tocando a mulher ou tocando a própria barriga enquanto seguram a bebida com a outra mão, a cabeça inclinada, que faz o elo entre a terra e o céu. Ao abrirem a boca, mostram tanto conteúdo quanto a revista Caras, além disso, contém em seu corpo mais álcool que hooligans em dia de jogo da seleção inglesa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Bonitinhos, porém, ordinários.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4306980469897002398?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.desassistidas.blogspot.com' title='O INDISPENSÁVEL GUIA DE SOBREVIVÊNCIA PARA A NOITE'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4306980469897002398/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4306980469897002398&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4306980469897002398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4306980469897002398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-indispensavel-guia-de-sobrevivencia.html' title='O INDISPENSÁVEL GUIA DE SOBREVIVÊNCIA PARA A NOITE'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5254144074237455634</id><published>2009-05-20T20:02:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T20:22:13.418-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Palhacinho escolar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Há tempos que não entro mais on line no msn para evitar os chatos, malucos e afins... Eis que hoje, crendo que alguns ja haviam esquecido da minha existência loira, logo com o status "disponível". Para que né???? Certo de dar merda! Até pq, quem é palhaço, nunca perde o seu picadeiro...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Transcrevo aqui na íntegra, incluindo os erros.... rs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; diz:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Vc esta disponivel?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;εïз. LOira .εïз. disse:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;ham...?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Muitos minutos se passaram sem qualquer interação)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; diz:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;To indo pq tenho aula na facul 8:40&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;εïз. LOira .εïз. disse:&lt;br /&gt;vc ta fazendo facul de q?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; diz:&lt;br /&gt;Adm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;εïз. LOira .εïз. disse :&lt;br /&gt;hum... aonde?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; diz:&lt;br /&gt;pq vai me buscar na faculdade?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;εïз. LOira .εïз. disse :&lt;br /&gt;hahahha&lt;br /&gt;porra, quem é o homenzinho da história?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; diz:&lt;br /&gt;Ué, pq o riso&lt;br /&gt;homenzinho me faz me sentir de volta a época de ginásio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Tudo bem, se aceitar sair comigo eu te busco e vc me tras, ta bom rs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;εïз. LOira .εïз. disse :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;ta fazendo cursinho em qual circo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;palhacinhoginasial@hotmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; diz:&lt;br /&gt;Po LOIRA, tu não muda ne, continua a me menosprezar ne...&lt;br /&gt;PRa ti, eu sou um simples palhaço...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Preciso comentar algo???? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Simplesmente fechei a janelinha do messenger esperando anciosamente que ele parasse por aqui. Depois ele vem me perguntar pq desde o ginásio eu o ignoro.......&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5254144074237455634?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5254144074237455634/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5254144074237455634&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5254144074237455634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5254144074237455634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/05/palhacinho-escolar.html' title='Palhacinho escolar'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3864221263995290989</id><published>2009-05-13T21:03:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T21:06:24.973-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah, ... as mudanças!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;O tempo passou e eu mudei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Mudei porque amadureci ... mudei porque passei por tantas e tão diversas experiências, que consegui aprender com meus próprios erros ... mudei porque me decepcionei com amigos ... mudei porque me decepcionei com amores ... mudei porque conheci pessoas tão especiais que fui capaz de me inspirar por elas e me espelhar nelas para me tornar uma pessoa diferente ...... talvez uma pessoa melhor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;O tempo passou, eu mudei e nem tudo, nem todos, me acompanharam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Mas valeu a pena. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Não há tempo, numa vida cuja existência é tão imprevisível, para arrependimentos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Ou melhor: se deve haver arrependimento, que seja porque eu fiz tudo o que estava ao meu alcance para me tornar uma pessoa melhor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Para ter uma vida melhor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Viver, afinal, é a arte de mudar e aprender. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Manter a essência ... mas aprender. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Mudar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Coco Chanel disse uma vez :&lt;/span&gt; "não sou mais o que era ... devo ser o que me tornei". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3864221263995290989?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3864221263995290989/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3864221263995290989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3864221263995290989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3864221263995290989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/05/ah-as-mudancas.html' title='Ah, ... as mudanças!'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3581498249146189014</id><published>2009-05-13T20:57:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T21:01:10.718-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A felicidade está em VOCÊ!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"Evitar a felicidade com medo de que ela acabe, é o melhor meio de se tornar infeliz."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;(Albert Einstein)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;"A Felicidade não existe pronta,não é uma herança genética,não é privilégio de uma casta ou camada social.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;A Felicidade é uma eterna construção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Ser feliz é ser capaz de dizer 'eu errei',é ter sensibilidade para falar 'eu preciso de você',é ter ousadia para dizer 'eu te amo'."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;"Ser feliz é ñ querer saber onde é o nosso limite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;É conseguir ver sempre o lado bom das coisas, aprender com os erros, rir, chorar sem culpa, amar, ter esperança, lutar por uma boa causa, respeitar e ser respeitado, ter a alma leve!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Seja feliz, ñ complique o simples e viva..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Marcelo Tomita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;"A maior vingança é ser feliz!"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3581498249146189014?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3581498249146189014/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3581498249146189014&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3581498249146189014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3581498249146189014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/05/felicidade-esta-em-voce.html' title='A felicidade está em VOCÊ!!!!'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-2804524337935607162</id><published>2009-04-06T21:28:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:25:19.638-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Iê iê iê ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/SdqfB5cEFdI/AAAAAAAADS0/ENNb378o0d0/s1600-h/141.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A loira anda sumida...&lt;br /&gt;O carnaval foi impublicável e rendeu até bem pouco tempo... rs&lt;br /&gt;Fato que a loira agora está de volta!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Então, posts novos estão a caminho!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;:D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-2804524337935607162?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/2804524337935607162/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=2804524337935607162&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2804524337935607162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2804524337935607162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/04/ie-ie-ie.html' title='Iê iê iê ...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-2940511172682233553</id><published>2009-01-30T21:54:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T22:20:07.621-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Palhaço Primata</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://igeducacao.ig.com.br/upload/20061018/18145327.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 195px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px" alt="" src="http://igeducacao.ig.com.br/upload/20061018/18145327.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Esta semana fomos dançar em certo famoso cafofo sórdido do centro da cidade. As bandidas G. e J. completavam a trupe de empresárias em busca de novos talentos. Pista cheia, mais de mil palhaços no salão, muitos jovens artistas circenses não muito formosos, porém ansiosos por uma oportunidade para mostrar suas habilidades. A noite parecia promissora.&lt;br /&gt;Uga, uga ... já diria o homus erectus ou homus tahine para quem preferir. Vou cantarolar "Homem Primata", do Titãs, enquanto escrevo este post. É a melhor música para ilustrar a situação.&lt;br /&gt;Estávamos lá, animadas e sorridentes na pista 3, dançando horrores e transpirando o dobro do normal, quando a Loira que vos escreve, linda e japonesa, vai ao bar buscar algo refrescante. É a oportunidade perfeita para um palhaço primata, de idade não muito promissora, materializar-se ao meu lado, literalmente “secando-me”...&lt;br /&gt;- Posso te olhar não? To tirando pedaço?&lt;br /&gt;(Jesus me abane!!) Nem respondi....&lt;br /&gt;Até aí tudo ia mais ou menos, até que o mesmo resolve levar para casa um pedaço da minha epiderme européia....&lt;br /&gt;(Opaaaaaaaa, é o que sempre digo: Fala mas não toca!!!!!!)&lt;br /&gt;O bruto pândego me deu um beliscão digno de um “tasqueopariu” sonoro!&lt;br /&gt;Primata todo suado, blusão amassado, cabelos dignos de uma figuração em "O Senhor dos Anéis", barba por fazer, calça pagando cofrinho...&lt;br /&gt;Holofotes no centro do picadeiro, please:&lt;br /&gt;- Agora sim tirei um pedaço! Por mim te partiria em pedacinhos e comeria um por um...&lt;br /&gt;Em cena: o dublê de Jack, o estripador, fazia quadradinhos no meu braço enquanto falava...&lt;br /&gt;Peguei minha água super congelada e só consegui responder:&lt;br /&gt;- Se vier atrás de mim, vai se arrepender!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;(huahauhua, ok ok... ultimamente não to assustando nem criancinha, mas foi o que minhas sinapses conseguiram fazer com que eu pronunciasse naquele momento tão assustador....)&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:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&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:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&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:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-2940511172682233553?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.mada.blogger.com.br/macaco%202.jpg' title='Palhaço Primata'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/2940511172682233553/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=2940511172682233553&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2940511172682233553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/2940511172682233553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2009/01/palhaco-primata.html' title='Palhaço Primata'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4242122797526550822</id><published>2008-11-29T10:23:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T10:23:46.734-02:00</updated><title type='text'>A REVANCHE DA MUGUEGADA!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='color:red'&gt;(Chegou a nossa vez!!!!!!...rsrs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='color:#e36c0a'&gt;Depois de tantos e-mails machistas pela net... eis a revanche:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CORAÇÃO DE MULHER É IGUAL CIRCO:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;sempre tem lugar para mais um palhaço..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O QUE SE DEVE DAR A UM HOMEM QUE PENSA QUE TEM TUDO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Uma mulher para ensiná-lo como funciona!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE AS ARANHAS VIÚVAS-NEGRAS MATAM O MACHO DEPOIS DA CÓPULA?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Para acabar com o ronco antes que ele comece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE OS HOMENS QUEREM CASAR COM VIRGENS ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pq eles não suportam críticas!(ótima!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;COMO SE CHAMA UM HOMEM INTERESSANTE NO BRASIL?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Turista .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE DEUS CRIOU O HOMEM ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque vibradores não cortam grama. (ótima)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O QUE TÊM EM COMUM O CLITÓRIS, OS ANIVERSÁRIOS E O VASO SANITÁRIO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Os homens sempre erram !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE MUITAS MULHERES FINGEM O ORGASMO ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque muitos homens fingem as preliminares&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE APENAS 10% DOS HOMENS VÃO PARA O CÉU?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque se todos fossem, seria o inferno !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;QUAL A DIFERENÇA ENTRE HOMENS E PORCOS ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porcos não viram homens quando bebem ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;QUAL A DIFERENÇA ENTRE UM HOMEM E UM PAPAGAIO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Você pode ensinar o papagaio a falar cordialmente (ótima)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O QUE AS MULHERES MAIS ODEIAM OUVIR QUANDO ESTÃO TENDO SEXO DE BOA QUALIDADE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Querida, cheguei rs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE OS HOMENS NA CAMA SÃO COMO COMIDA DE MICROONDAS ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;30 segundos e já está pronto !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;QUAL O NOME DA DOENÇA QUE PARALISA AS MULHERES DA CINTURA PRA BAIXO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Casamento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O QUE ACONTECEU À MULHER QUE CONSEGUIU ENTENDER OS HOMENS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ela morreu de tanto rir e não teve tempo de contar a ninguém. (ótima)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE É QUE OS HOMENS TÊM A CONSCIÊNCIA LIMPA ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque nunca a usam...(perfeito)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O QUE ACONTECE COM UM HOMEM,QUANDO ENGOLE UMA MOSCA VIVA ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;			&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fica com mais neurônios ativos no estômago do que no cérebro!!! rs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE DEUS CRIOU PRIMEIRO O HOMEM, E DEPOIS A MULHER?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;			&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque as experiências são feitas primeiro com animais e depois com humanos!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(essa é a melhor revanche)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE OS HOMENS GOSTAM DE MULHERES INTELIGENTES?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque os opostos se atraem! (hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;QUAL O LIVRO MAIS FINO DO MUNDO ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Tudo o que os homens sabem sobre as mulheres"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;QUAL A DIFERENÇA ENTRE OS HOMENS E AS FRUTAS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Um dia, as frutas amadurecem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE AS PILHAS SÃO MELHORES QUE OS HOMENS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque elas têm pelo menos um lado positivo..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;QUAL A SEMELHANÇA ENTRE O HOMEM E O CARACOL ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ambos se arrastam, tem chifres, e acreditam que a "casa" é deles!!! (hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE UM HOMEM NÃO PODE TER UM BOM CARÁTER E SER INTELIGENTE AO MESMO TEMPO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque assim seria mulher !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O QUE DEUS DISSE DEPOIS DE CRIAR O HOMEM ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Creio que posso aperfeiçoá-lo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR QUE SÃO NECESSÁRIOS MILHÕES DE ESPERMATOZÓIDES PARA FERTILIZAR UM ÚNICO OVULO ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque os espermatozóides são masculinos e se negam a perguntar o caminho !!! (hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;QUANDO É QUE UM HOMEM PERDE 90% DE SUA INTELIGÊNCIA ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quando fica viúvo !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E QUANDO É QUE ELE PERDE OS 10% RESTANTES ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quando morre o cachorro...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4242122797526550822?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4242122797526550822/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4242122797526550822&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4242122797526550822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4242122797526550822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/11/revanche-da-muguegada.html' title='A REVANCHE DA MUGUEGADA!!!!'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4529901890230030913</id><published>2008-11-21T13:04:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T13:13:43.550-02:00</updated><title type='text'>PORQUE OS CASAMENTOS DE ANTIGAMENTE DURAVAM</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Observem as frases retiradas de revistas femininas das décadas de 50 e 60:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Se desconfiar da infidelidade do marido, a esposa deve redobrar seu carinho e provas de afeto, sem questioná-lo. &lt;em&gt;(Revista Claudia, 1962)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A desordem em um banheiro desperta no marido a vontade de ir tomar banho fora de casa. &lt;em&gt;(Jornal das Moças, 1965)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Se o seu marido fuma, não arrume briga pelo simples fato de cair cinzas no tapete. Tenha cinzeiros espalhados por toda casa. &lt;em&gt;(Jornal das Moças, 1957)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Não se deve irritar o homem com ciúmes e dúvidas. &lt;em&gt;(Jornal das Moças, 1957)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O noivado longo é um perigo, mas nunca sugira o matrimônio. ELE é quem decide - sempre! &lt;em&gt;(Revista Querida, 1953)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sempre que o homem sair com os amigos e voltar tarde da noite espere-o linda, cheirosa e dócil. &lt;em&gt;(Jornal das Moças, 1958)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;É fundamental manter sempre a aparência impecável diante do marido. &lt;em&gt;(Jornal das Moças, 1957)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quando seu marido lhe procurar a noite, não reclame de dor de cabeça, trate-o com carinho e amor. &lt;em&gt;(Jornal das Moças, 1960)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A mulher deve fazer o marido descansar nas horas vagas, servindo-lhe uma cerveja bem gelada. Nada de incomodá-lo com serviços ou notícias domésticas. &lt;em&gt;(Jornal das Moças, 1959)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O lugar de mulher é no lar. &lt;em&gt;(Revista Querida, 1955)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CONCLUSÃO:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Duas possibilidades: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;1 -&lt;/span&gt; algum palhaço sem função sexual ou atividade laborativa, num surto de "criatividade", inventou isso sobre as revistas daquela época;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;2 -&lt;/span&gt; naquela época as revistas deveriam ser escritas por homens (sinônimo de palhaço), já que as moçoilas deveriam estar em casa cuidando do "lar" e não trabalhando fora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4529901890230030913?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4529901890230030913/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4529901890230030913&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4529901890230030913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4529901890230030913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/11/porque-os-casamentos-de-antigamente.html' title='PORQUE OS CASAMENTOS DE ANTIGAMENTE DURAVAM'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-7052966972897956787</id><published>2008-09-30T23:20:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T23:30:17.006-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Casado, porém não capado...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Hoje fui visitar um grande amigo que foi recém operado... Ele encontrava-se na enfermaria junto a outros pacientes com enfermidades diversas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Um em particular, chamou-me atenção; rapaz novo, moreno, forte .... e, mesmo acamado, ficando bom, morria fácil. &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(ai que fase!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Observo que parentes o consolam, pois ele aparentemente está inconformado com a situação que se encontra... Meu amigo chega a comentar que há duas semanas o rapaz havia sido pai de gêmeas, o que a outra visita, já ciente do fato ocorrido com o rapaz, surpreende-se... &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(&lt;/em&gt; =O&lt;em&gt;)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;É na saída que fico sabendo da "triste" história do paciente gatinho... Segundo a boca miúda do corpo de enfermagem do hospital, o rapaz havia sido pego em trajes menores com a mulher de um policial, e o marido traído, muito nervoso, descarregara todo o seu ódio balístico no rapaz...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(aff... momento de reflexão...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;- Disseram que ele só não morreu porque Papai do Céu não quis levar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;- Mas perae... devagar que eu sou lenta! O cara é pai de gêmeas recentemente e estava comendo outra...., casada também?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;- É menina... O marido pegou os dois na cama!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;- O= &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;( To bege! )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; =O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;- Aí ele ta com medo do cara voltar aqui e querer terminar o serviço... Por isso tem o guarda na porta da enfermaria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Eu só não sabia que ele era pai; então deve ser até casado... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(Não necessariamente diante do currículo do paciente)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Disse que o policial só mirou embaixo... Atingiu vários órgãos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(pensamento obscuro: "Ah.. será que destruiu o brinquedinho da sorte dele???")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;E a outra visita completa o seu comentário...:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;- Homem é tudo igual.. é casado mas não é capado!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Essa vou ter que comentar!!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Que traste é esse que se propõem a ter um filho com alguém e anda por aí metendo a sua varinha no buraco alheio?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Condeno completamente a atitude do marido - galhudo!! Que arma o que??? Essa só deve ser utilizada quando a presa tem tempo de correr...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Sente a cena... Futuro - defunto lá, funfurunfando com a esposa - safadona...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Sabe-se lá se os dois já estavam nos finalmentes ou estavam apenas nas preliminares; o importante foi o fator surpresa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Peladão, bilau ao vento e o cara usa uma arma de fogo??? Nãoooooooo!!!! Tinha que lançar uma faca... (Olha a faca!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Aproveitava que o bichinho tava lá durinho, no ponto para ser fatiado!!!! Ficaria com mais pedaços do que quebra - cabeça de 3000 peças!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;O comedor – de – esposa - alheia nunca mais ia achar a ponta da sua cabecinha para contar a história ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Fora o trauma para a esposa adúltera! Garanto que nunca mais ela ia olhar pelo basculante da cozinha, quanto mais dar mole para outrem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Mas aí o policial galhudo agiu por impulso... e o futuro defunto agora está lá.. acamado, com alguns furinhos pela região abdomial, mas com a sua arma de fogo intáctica...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Creio que nada tenha acontecido com o brinquedinho, pois raciocina com a loira: com o som do disparo, o rapaz se assustou e provavelmente a vara encolheu... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#365f91;"&gt;Com o despreparo da nossa polícia, difícil acertar um palitinho... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-7052966972897956787?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/7052966972897956787/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=7052966972897956787&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7052966972897956787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7052966972897956787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/casado-porm-no-capado.html' title='Casado, porém não capado...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4254520210175803105</id><published>2008-09-30T22:21:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T00:25:53.137-02:00</updated><title type='text'>GAFE NA SALA DE AULA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ESTA FOI A PERGUNTA DE UMA CALOURA DA USP SOBRE 'PAPILAS GUSTATIVAS'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Esta história é verídica,aconteceu na USP . Numa aula de biologia, o professor estava falando sobre o alto teor de glicose encontrado no sêmen,quando uma caloura levantou o braço e perguntou:&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Se eu entendi bem, o senhor está dizendo que se encontra muita glicose no sêmen. Seria tanta quanto no açúcar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;- Sim&lt;/span&gt; - respondeu o professor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;- Então por que o gosto não é doce?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Após um silêncio de estupefação, a classe toda arrebentou numa gargalhada. A pobre garota ficou roxa de vergonha, assim que percebeu quão impensada foi sua pergunta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;A resposta do professor, entretanto, foi clássica:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;- O gosto não é doce porque as papilas gustativas que reconhecem o sabor doce , encontram - se na ponta da língua, e não no fundo da garganta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Não tem o que falar fica quieto... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Ficou parecendo até piada de loira... ;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4254520210175803105?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4254520210175803105/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4254520210175803105&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4254520210175803105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4254520210175803105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/gafe-na-sala-de-aula.html' title='GAFE NA SALA DE AULA'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-5968894583290333159</id><published>2008-09-28T19:53:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T19:57:20.653-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Os 10 slogans mais ridículos de campanha eleitoral (do Brasil, é claro!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;10º&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: Rola Bosta Candidato do Piauí 'Não vote em quem Enrola e Gosta, vote em Rola Bosta'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;9º&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: Guilherme Bouças, com o slogan:'Chega de malas, vote em Bouças.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;8º &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: Grito de guerra do candidato Lingüiça, lá de Cotia (SP).'Lingüiça Neles!' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;7º&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: Em Descalvado (AL), tem um candidata chamada "Dinha" cujo slogan é:'Tudo Pela Dinha.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;6º&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: Em Carmo do Rio Claro, tem um candidato chamado Gê. 'Não vote em A, nem em B, nem em C; na hora H, vote em Gê.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;5º &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: Em Hidrolândia (GO), tem um candidato chamado Pé.'Não vote sentado, vote em Pé.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;4º &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: E em Piraí do Sul tem um gay chamado Lady Zu.'Aquele que dá o que promete.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;3º&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: A cearense chamada DeboraSoft, stripper e estrela de show de sexo explícito. 'Vote com prazer!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;2º&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: Candidato a prefeito de Aracati (CE):'Com a minha fé e as fezes de vocês, vou ganhar a eleição.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;1º&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;lugar&lt;/span&gt;: Em Mogi das Cruzes (SP), tem um candidato chamado Defunto:'Vote em Defunto, porque político bom é político morto!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-5968894583290333159?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/5968894583290333159/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=5968894583290333159&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5968894583290333159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/5968894583290333159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/os-10-slogans-mais-ridculos-de-campanha.html' title='Os 10 slogans mais ridículos de campanha eleitoral (do Brasil, é claro!)'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4018893547061862571</id><published>2008-09-28T19:45:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T12:09:13.450-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Preste Atenção!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://humorpicante.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/japanese1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://humorpicante.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/japanese1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Estes sinais encontram-se nos Metrôs do Japão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;“Assentos Prioritários para…………….” (da esquerda para a direita):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;1. Uma Pessoa com uma lesão no Braço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;2. Uma Pessoa transportando uma criança&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;3. Mulher Grávida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;4. Uma Pessoa com uma lesão no Pé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;Vindo da loira... Já pensou besteirinha, não é?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ffccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4018893547061862571?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4018893547061862571/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4018893547061862571&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4018893547061862571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4018893547061862571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/preste-ateno.html' title='Preste Atenção!'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-1724042808343927536</id><published>2008-09-27T23:54:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T01:06:01.620-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoje tem dose dupla...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#999999;"&gt;Depois de quase um mês de molho em casa devido a problemas psicológicos &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(crise dos 24)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; e físicos &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(joelhite aguda),&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; eis que a loira pisteira resolve voltar à ativa.&lt;br /&gt;E como bandida que é bandida nunca anda sozinha, depois de algumas ligações, o veredicto final da quadrilha: um baile funk pixulé... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(e algum não é?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Chegando ao local, a ambientação de praste... Muitas “inhas” de shortinho e sainha, além de muitos “nénzinhos” dando palhinha de playboy, mas chegando de Kombi e descendo na porta... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(hahaha)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Já que a ordem da noite é dançar muito, vamos à pista. E é aqui o palco dos palhaços mais bizarros... Depois de umas geladinhas para relaxar as idéias, e definitivamente fazendo o papel de “gringas do funk”, vamos a pequenos flashbacks...&lt;br /&gt;Um dos primeiros seres esquisitos a se aproximar, era o típico palhaço banguelinha... Na escuridão do ambiente, nem a mais míope das criaturas deixaria de reparar na falta peculiar de um lateral esquerdo! &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(argh...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Na seqüência, o tipo mais comum, o palhaço bebum... Depois de uma olhada básica, o ser, encantado com a gringa loira pára e a observa. Nitidamente obcecado, e após ficar cerca de 15 minutos só babando e vendo outros palhaços zumbis tentarem a sorte no picadeiro, com seu andar sinuoso e seu olhar estrábico 69, ele se aproxima.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(ai q medo!!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- Posso falar com você?&lt;br /&gt;- Já está falando!&lt;br /&gt;- Eu to separado da minha esposa há 6 meses....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;( Pausa para cara de interrogação... “E o Kiko?” )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- .... ela me procurou ontem... Queria fazer amor! Eu não fui não, sabe... Acho que ela ta armando..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(ok ok... pára tudo, sente a cena: Catra no palco bradando aos 4 cantos “relaxa na pica, relaxa na pica” e o cidadão vem desabafar com uma rebolativa bandida loira piriguete...&lt;br /&gt;Coitado, além de bêbado o cara está com problemas pessoais. &lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;:\&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incorporando a Madre Teresa Boazinha Loira, cruzo os braços e o interrogo com aquele olhar malicioso de “essa vai para o blog”)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- É mesmo cara... Vocês tem filhos?&lt;br /&gt;- Temos não... 7 anos juntos. Eu sempre fui aproveitador da vida &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(neologismo clássico de bêbado)&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/em&gt; já vendi um apartamento para ir passar o carnaval na Bahia! &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(aff..)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- E vocês terminaram por isso?&lt;br /&gt;- Não, isso foi antes de casar com ela... Mas com você não... eu vou te levar para muitos lugares, vou te amar de manhã, de tarde e de noite; vou te amar até a gente ficar bem velhinho. Vou conquistar você todo dia e todo dia você vai ser minha....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- haaaaaaahahahahahahahahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;O palhaço foi interrompido com uma louca gargalhada, à la pombo-gira...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(Nãooooo, não creio nisso! E eu achando que o meu radar de maluco tinha caído em desuso devido ao tempo que fiquei afastada... )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- Ei mozão, quantos anos você tem?&lt;br /&gt;- 30... Sente o meu corpo, me dá um abraço forte!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(Em cena... O palhaço levantou a blusa, puxou minha mão e tentando ardentemente me abraçar, gritou:  “Sente meu corpo vai “...&lt;br /&gt;Seria irrelevante comentar que vários espíritos sem luz que nos rodeavam observavam a cena hilária...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- Êêêêêêêêêpaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Fala mas não toca!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois de trocar mais umas duzentas frases totalmente abafadas pelos berros do “cantor” &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;(haha, não me faça rir)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; que se apresentava, dou uma olhada para o palco e assisto ao homem pelanca ao som de “treme, treme, treme, ...” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Juro que tentei praticar a boa ação do ano, mas não obtive muito sucesso...&lt;br /&gt;Entrego os pontos e vou até o bar... A única solução é “beber, cair, levantar”!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Parte da noite foi deletada da mente... efeito da loira gelada ou apenas um mecanismo de defesa do meu seletivo cérebro loiro? Complicado saber...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-1724042808343927536?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/1724042808343927536/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=1724042808343927536&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1724042808343927536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1724042808343927536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/hoje-tem-dose-dupla.html' title='Hoje tem dose dupla...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-97419996169529951</id><published>2008-09-27T15:53:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T16:02:32.212-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Viva São Cosme e São Damião</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;27 de setembro... dia das crianças, São Cosme e Damião! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Hoje, é dia de ruas repletas de crianças e algumas outras pessoas que já deixaram de ser, mas mesmo assim querem o seu "saquinho de doces".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Fato comprovado pela minha passagem rápida pelo quintal da minha casa, de onde vejo um grupo de pessoas ávidas em passos largos, onde menos da metade se fazia crianças; o restante eram mulheres balofas e famintas com sacolas de supermercado na mão.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;É dali que ouço uma voz estridente:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;- Vai lá seu arrombado entupido!! Não é de cartão não!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(Mas hein.....? Prefiro nem comentar!)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-97419996169529951?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/97419996169529951/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=97419996169529951&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/97419996169529951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/97419996169529951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/viva-so-cosme-e-so-damio.html' title='Viva São Cosme e São Damião'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-3027280602992722400</id><published>2008-09-23T18:43:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T00:08:21.503-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Emo?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tn3-1.deviantart.com/fs17/300W/f/2007/128/8/0/Emo_Kid_color_variant_02_by_sabisaotome.png"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 384px" height="369" alt="" src="http://tn3-1.deviantart.com/fs17/300W/f/2007/128/8/0/Emo_Kid_color_variant_02_by_sabisaotome.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Transcrevo aqui uma das pérolas do orkut: a definição de Emo....&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"Emo é a sigla de "EMOtional Hardcore". Ou sigla de Eu Masturbo Outros, ou ainda de Eu Melo Ovo. Emo também é ome ao contrário. Logo, emo é o contrário de ome. Segundo muitos especialista a palavra emo deveria se escrever hemo, por ser uma abreviaçao de hemorróida. Assim, o emo é o baitolo por postulação. Se você é emo, é viadinho; mas se você for viadinho, não precisa ser emo necessariamente.&lt;br /&gt;Basta ter classe e sair do armário com discrição e noções de higiene." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;hahahaha... será q usar langeries se enquadra?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Só sei que "ome" foi forte!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-3027280602992722400?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/3027280602992722400/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=3027280602992722400&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3027280602992722400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/3027280602992722400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/emo.html' title='Emo?'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-4467848467860246624</id><published>2008-09-22T18:47:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T00:08:55.501-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Baita putão, como se diz no sul...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;O relato abaixo chegou por email e é mais uma das fantásticas pérolas do fantasioso mundo dos sites de relacionamento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;O nick do agora famoso "rapaz", quase um palhaço-vovô de 40 primaveras, é roguapo, divorciado &lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(aff, isso já foi macho?)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; e morador de Porto Alegre, RS &lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(baita putão tchê!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Confirmando que a biba gaúcha é ridícula e muito sem noção, ele &lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(ou ela?)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; não teve o menor pudor em expor sua tosquice e nem ao menos se deu ao trabalho de fazer uma revisãozinha básica no texto. Claro, para garantir o brilho do espetáculo, não corrigi os erros no texto. Apenas substituí os nomes e endereços do veículo citado por X:DX, pois sou blogueira mas sou discreta. Além do que, estou aqui pra fazer piada, não para doar audiência a palhaços e divulgando o endereço do pândego, é bem capaz que algum rapaz também interessado em moda o adicione! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Divirtam-se.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;" Oiii,Adoro conhecer pessoas, ter novas amizades. Bater papo no msn. ter novas amizades. Vamos nos conhecer. Sou sincero, adoro me divertir, aproveitar a vida, me relacionar com pessoas boas. Atuo na area de estilista de moda, adoro moda feminina&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;( kkk, MUITO sincero...)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; crio e seleciono lingeries. gosto de provar &lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;( PARA TUDO!! To imaginando a cena...)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; e que olhem meus modelos de lingeries como vestem e se sao bonitos ou nao. gosto que me deem opiniao. estou quase sempre no msn. podemos nos ver na cam.Me adiciona, tenho cam e se voce tem cam pra poder me ver vestir e mostrar&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ai q medo!! :/)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Podemos trocar ideias sobre as lingeries e sobre moda em geral.sou afeminado, &lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(precisava dizer?)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; mas adoro fazer amizades &lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(ai que fofa!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Meu msn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:rofeminina@desainha.xyz" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;rofeminina@desainha.xyz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Beijosss Oscar ("Ro") &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(só para os íntimos, hein...)&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Sem mais comentários.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;;)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-4467848467860246624?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/4467848467860246624/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=4467848467860246624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4467848467860246624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/4467848467860246624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/baita-puto-como-se-diz-no-sul.html' title='Baita putão, como se diz no sul...'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-783234933769237715</id><published>2008-09-07T12:43:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T00:09:21.228-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A crise dos 24</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.batonga.com.br/bandida2c.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 171px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" height="924" alt="" src="http://www.batonga.com.br/bandida2c.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sábado, quase duas e meia da matina e eis que a loira que vos escreve está em casa, so-zi-nha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"&gt;(Sim... podem acreditar... há testemunhas no local....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Problemas quanto a isso?? Nenhum! A night anterior foi pesada e o espírito não estava preparado para agüentar mais uma.&lt;br /&gt;Bem, e é sobre as últimas nights o nosso tema de hoje....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Você chega em casa, cansada de um longo e torturante dia de trabalho, toma um banho, liga para a parceira bandida e confirma a hora da partida; engole algo para garantir sua integridade física e moral até o segundo drink, veste seu manto de guerra, dá uma reforçada no reboco e sai... linda, loira e japonesa.&lt;br /&gt;Esse tem sido o ritmo tenso dos finais de semana, nos últimos meses, desde que a líder loira assumiu publicamente sua solteirice &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;( o que foi apenas um detalhe, diga-se de passagem...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Mas o que vos aflige, oh cabeção oxigenado??&lt;br /&gt;É de sabedoria popular e comprovado numericamente a olho nu, que nós somos a maioria. Para cada palhaço na pista, cinco bandidas, em média, dando mole ou esfregando na cara....&lt;br /&gt;Já que a concorrência é desleal, freqüentemos o lado obscuro da vida, terra sem lei, onde ninguém é de ninguém... &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(e onde vale a máxima de que c* de bêbado não tem dono!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Como é habitual, você chega em bando, dá aquela checada básica no terreno e pede uma bebida para relaxar. Olha, olha e não encontra nada de interessante para distrair seus cílios saltitantes. É então que aquela voz perturbadora entra em cena: “&lt;strong&gt;O que eu to fazendo aqui&lt;/strong&gt;?”&lt;br /&gt;E nesse clima se aproximam os primeiros palhaços no picadeiro, de tipos e cores diferentes, aos quais você limita-se apenas a virar-se de costas e balançar a cabeça negativamente. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"&gt;(aff...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Assim passa-se a noite, com a maior variação de “nãos” que você já foi capaz de pronunciar...&lt;br /&gt;E o porquê disso tudo, se você estava tão determinada a arrasar,a fazer e acontecer?&lt;br /&gt;Pois é bandida... seria essa a crise do quase um quarto de século? &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"&gt;( A conta é meio complicada, dá até para entrar em crise )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Ou seria apenas critério elevado? ( &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"&gt;:/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; )&lt;br /&gt;Hum.. difícil de definir já que a bandida pisteira que se apresenta ao público alvo da night não é mais a mesma que se perfumou toda pensando naquele “cheirinho” arrasador no cangote?&lt;br /&gt;Falta de boas opções?&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre, já que o palhacinho mais formoso do circo chegou logo em você e, sem remorso algum, você o dispensou friamente...&lt;br /&gt;Ok, ok, isso provavelmente é uma crise ainda não descoberta por médicos e especialistas, mas que anda afligindo uma pequena parte da bandidagem pisteira...&lt;br /&gt;E qual a solução?&lt;br /&gt;Bem, creio que uma sessão espírita com aquela sua velha lista de “telefones emergenciais” seja uma saída para ressuscitar os palhaços mortos e garantir a missão do fim de semana, afinal, mais vale uma oferenda devolvida do que um ebó mal despachado!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-783234933769237715?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/783234933769237715/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=783234933769237715&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/783234933769237715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/783234933769237715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/crise-dos-24.html' title='A crise dos 24'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-1072301996974997490</id><published>2008-09-04T00:02:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T00:55:42.206-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pregnofilia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img.terra.com.br/i/2007/03/30/485670-7414-it2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 251px; CURSOR: hand" height="290" alt="" src="http://img.terra.com.br/i/2007/03/30/485670-7414-it2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;Eis que meu 1º relato já provocou certa comoção... rs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;Chegando em casa já completando as 23 badaladas, após uma rápida incursão com uma amiga, na qual exerci a clássica função de vela (&lt;em&gt;o que anda condizendo com minha palidez atual&lt;/em&gt;), logo meu msn para me atualizar nas notícias locais... Após ler o relato abaixo sobre minha amiga Morena, meu "amiguinho" internauta que aqui será chamado de &lt;em&gt;Senhor G.&lt;/em&gt; resolve contar uma passagem também comovente da vida de seu amigo &lt;em&gt;Palhacinho&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;Partindo da premissa de que tudo se passou com o amigo, vamos ao relato: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Senhor G:&lt;/em&gt; Lição aprendida... Não se precisa partilhar toda experiência, ainda mais com uma mulher; a lógica de raciocinio é diferente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loira:&lt;/em&gt; Passar a mão no pau de um cara???? aff.. Ele deveria levar p o túmulo e ainda exterminar todos q presenciaram tal cena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Senhor G:&lt;/em&gt; Se insistissem um pouquinho, se descobria bi passivo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Eu tenho um amigo.. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(hum, um amigo... sei...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; q nao é bicha &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(pois é.. muito importante classificá-lo neste momento),&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; mas q só acontece coisa engraçada... &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Ham..? Para ser engraçado tem que ser bicha gente?) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Lembro q logo ao entrar na facul aconteceu uma parada hiper engraçada. Como todo universitário, taradíssimo, ele arrumou uma menina de Marechal Hermes.. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Nossa!!) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A gente mora em Caxias, e na época éramos desmotorizados! &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Pior, impossível! A sorte é que em Caxias tem busão até para o inferno..)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Pois bem, ele catou a minazinha num bate papo por telefone foi encontrar com a figura sábado a noite, lá em marechal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loira:&lt;/em&gt; Nossa tudo de bom....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Senhor G: F&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#cc6600;"&gt;icou com a menina, fez todos os trabalhos... só alegria.&lt;br /&gt;Na outra semana, domingão, estávamos eu, ele e outro amigo e perguntamos a respeito da minazinha. Ele falou q a menina era legal, q fez e aconteceu... Daí ele solta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Palhacinho:&lt;/em&gt; - Ela me confidenciou q a fantasia dela é transar com dois homens!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Senhor G&lt;/em&gt;: Putz, eu e meu outro amigo ficamos animadaços! &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Haja lona para tanto palhaço!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;              Então&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;perguntamos se poderíamos ligar pra ela, botar uma pilha e tal. Ele fala q não, q não podíamos, q tínhamos q dar um tempo.&lt;br /&gt;              Eu e meu amigo ficamos putos e perguntamos pq não, só ele q podia pegar a perva... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;(!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Palhacinho:&lt;/em&gt; Não vai rolar, pq ela teve filho na última quarta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Senhor G: Ou seja, o cara pegou uma mulher quase parindo, 4 dias antes do bebê nascer! O maior ato de bravura q um guerreiro já protagonizou... E pra finalizar manda a pérola:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Palhacinho&lt;/em&gt;: Porra, o foda é o gosto do colostro...muito ruim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loira&lt;/em&gt;: putaqueopariu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Cada um sabe dos seus desejos sexuais, certo? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Senhor... onde este blog vai chegar??? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-1072301996974997490?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/1072301996974997490/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=1072301996974997490&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1072301996974997490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/1072301996974997490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/pregnofilia.html' title='Pregnofilia'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-7933904562854225320</id><published>2008-09-02T22:26:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T23:18:11.392-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Relato de uma 1ª vez</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/SL3yyzZWpZI/AAAAAAAACcE/9aRdrN39tn4/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241612495933056402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/SL3yyzZWpZI/AAAAAAAACcE/9aRdrN39tn4/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Parceira de longa data, que aqui será chamada de MORENA, dia desses me relatou um episódio do seu fim de semana. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Por uma questão de entendimento geral, vamos classificá-la: recém bandida, caiu na pista por ter terminado um casamento de longa data e ter sido o palhaço em questão o único a ter visitado o picadeiro, até então...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Morena agora é adepta de salas de bate papo e sites de relacionamento, onde se auto intitula "&lt;em&gt;Sincera e romântica, procura uma pessoa para um relacionamento estável &lt;/em&gt;". ok ok.. bizarrices à parte, o fato é que esta seleta companheira já arrebatou alguns generosos e belos rapazes internautas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mas... time em campo não é certeza de vitória! Bandida que é bandida sabe disso. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Vamos ao relato resumidamente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Domingo, Morena chega ao local marcado e ambienta-se com a presa em questão. Conversa vai, conversa vem, eis que o pândego começa a relatar seu relacionamento anterior. Sua ex namorada era frequentadora de casas de swing e acabou o convencendo a ir com ela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Estarrecida, antes mesmo de saber o desfecho da história, Morena já o reprova com olhares fulminates... (&lt;em&gt;Mas amiga.. relacionamento moderno! Qual o problema? Amplie seus horizontes!!!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Então o rapaz, sem nenhuma noção básica de 1º encontro, conclui com ênfase a passagem marcante de sua vida: " Foi nessa ocasião que passei a mão pela primeira vez no pau de um homem"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Hein...? Como assim...? :O Não comeu as duas...? Bah.. não teria uma outra opção??? )&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Querendo fugir, Morena cata em sua bolsa sua bolinha ninja numa atitude desesperadora de virar purpurina e se dissipar daquele lugar com aquele ser duvidoso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;(Coitado do cidadão... Será que ainda não absorveu a idéia de que supostamente gosta de brinquedinho de armar? )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Bem, Morena não foi feliz nessa incursão... Não deu nem um beijinho no rapaz &lt;em&gt;(será q é mesmo?)&lt;/em&gt; e voltou ao seu lar sã e salva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;É amiga.. ou o mundo está muito louco ou nós já estamos muito antiquadas... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas.. ainda sou adepta ao usual!&lt;/em&gt;&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="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-7933904562854225320?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/7933904562854225320/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=7933904562854225320&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7933904562854225320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/7933904562854225320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/relato-de-uma-1-vez.html' title='Relato de uma 1ª vez'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/SL3yyzZWpZI/AAAAAAAACcE/9aRdrN39tn4/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-507995407555023016</id><published>2008-09-02T22:02:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T13:52:14.389-03:00</updated><title type='text'>FINALMENTE DESCOBRIRAM COMO FUNCIONA O CÉREBRO DO HOMEM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://87.230.57.87/images/postais/m_sexo1g.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 179px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 207px" height="351" alt="" src="http://87.230.57.87/images/postais/m_sexo1g.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#330099;"&gt;Num cérebro de um homem estava um neurônio sozinho. Um dia, um outro neurônio passa por lá meio apressado. O neurônio solitário diz: - Olá! Tudo bem? Como vai? Prazer em vê-lo! Vamos conversar? O neurônio que passeava pelo cérebro estranha tanta hospitalidade e Responde: -Olá, companheiro! Posso saber o motivo de tanta felicidade ao me ver? - Quer saber? Você é o primeiro neurônio que vejo passar por aqui depois de décadas... estou sozinho há tanto tempo nesse maldito cérebro... - Mas espera aí... há quanto tempo você está aqui solitário? - Bem... desde sempre... sempre estive aqui... -Cara,...mas... você é burro ou o quê!? Desce pro pinto. Tá todo mundo lá! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-507995407555023016?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/507995407555023016/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=507995407555023016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/507995407555023016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/507995407555023016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/finalmente-descobriram-como-funciona-o.html' title='FINALMENTE DESCOBRIRAM COMO FUNCIONA O CÉREBRO DO HOMEM'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6316278506336841814.post-574340417648117627</id><published>2008-09-02T19:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T23:20:08.093-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O início</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Desde quando minha vida transformou-se num grande espetáculo circense eu não sei, mas a verdade é que canso de ouvir "Você tem que escrever um livro, doida". Bom, na falta de muitos neurônios para concretizar tal feito, eis aqui meu blog e minha 1ª postagem oficial!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Ok meninas e meninos, não precisam suar frio achando que acabarei com a reputação de vocês pondo em pauta todas as nossas loucuras... Identidades serão devidamente preservadas.... hahahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Qualquer semelhança com a realidade será pura coincidência!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Mais um conto da Loira&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6316278506336841814-574340417648117627?l=contosdaloira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/feeds/574340417648117627/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6316278506336841814&amp;postID=574340417648117627&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/574340417648117627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6316278506336841814/posts/default/574340417648117627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contosdaloira.blogspot.com/2008/09/o-incio.html' title='O início'/><author><name>Loira em apuros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08724592765317219057</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ME8VeXk8I3Q/TIKro32EQqI/AAAAAAAADos/q_PxMNVG2_0/S220/DSC03383.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
