tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85282358803378830712024-03-14T08:36:39.501+00:00L'Éphémère Amour.The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.<br>
Especially YOU.Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-91982317591383131062010-10-26T22:22:00.002+01:002010-10-26T22:24:58.158+01:00Finalmente.<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3rUVJtr2C2Ou-85AvDHaYaylCjl8zMDpUTABQtkU6f49xaIeV-kZK8yEKnIQIZa_lwaqFZaG26IMVhJcgniSLwcgUCT5C_sjLWYS1S40KCCPn52ENuTAGxqfb29ADeTzg4EtO2so2gp8/s1600/70hsnb_large.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3rUVJtr2C2Ou-85AvDHaYaylCjl8zMDpUTABQtkU6f49xaIeV-kZK8yEKnIQIZa_lwaqFZaG26IMVhJcgniSLwcgUCT5C_sjLWYS1S40KCCPn52ENuTAGxqfb29ADeTzg4EtO2so2gp8/s320/70hsnb_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532468428730457762" border="0" /></a>Consegui chegar a casa a horas decentes para conseguir fazer alguns TPC's e trabalhos sem ser à pressa. E ainda conto em dormir cedo. Tomara que fosse mais vezes assim.<br /></div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-57123086003838749942010-10-20T00:19:00.001+01:002010-10-20T00:20:56.797+01:00Só me apetece arrancar os cabelos, apesar de lá beeem no fundo até gostar.<div style="text-align: justify;">Ando sem tempo para nada.<br /></div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-20795699568377658862010-10-14T01:39:00.002+01:002010-10-14T01:42:29.730+01:00Quem corre por gosto não cansa.<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcshdoDstX6GNOb1qNNSP6QsOJaudyzhMKo498leR9lvt0hOxC6HrWhG7ggTh9xaasUqg_6VmpGlltOHpKwT-qqCMclF9g1tu_iMTWHlIAoQLJeF69myiMBI61S7PS-kxrVbSrP-ii-4/s1600/tumblr_la5jbhEMds1qbw7odo1_400_large.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPcshdoDstX6GNOb1qNNSP6QsOJaudyzhMKo498leR9lvt0hOxC6HrWhG7ggTh9xaasUqg_6VmpGlltOHpKwT-qqCMclF9g1tu_iMTWHlIAoQLJeF69myiMBI61S7PS-kxrVbSrP-ii-4/s320/tumblr_la5jbhEMds1qbw7odo1_400_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527694923684895122" border="0" /></a>Está a ser mais doloroso que qualquer coisa na minha vida, mas é dor de prazer em vez de sofrimento. É ultrapassar limites todos os dias, é descobrir-me. Estou viver a MINHA vida.<br />E estou a amar.<br /></div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-21017355277206625892010-10-01T18:31:00.003+01:002010-10-01T19:29:40.037+01:00Rituais.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NIVYYhhlo0OiuwbQoOetaCVDXszAygy-WtR8rR6xRAldcYCmRJkFjbElfiFX59h0Y7uRIsn43fPJFJIHvNnq6NIFAd4EesvlRywNyWSYsziwvswEe6hbbzi4Wt4QY1sK2Qc0dP-DZfs/s1600/tumblr_l7fsw5icML1qz6ii7o1_500_large.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NIVYYhhlo0OiuwbQoOetaCVDXszAygy-WtR8rR6xRAldcYCmRJkFjbElfiFX59h0Y7uRIsn43fPJFJIHvNnq6NIFAd4EesvlRywNyWSYsziwvswEe6hbbzi4Wt4QY1sK2Qc0dP-DZfs/s320/tumblr_l7fsw5icML1qz6ii7o1_500_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523145907352315410" border="0" /></a>Um dos meus, é tomar um longo banho de imersão, com muita espuma, para me preparar para grandes acontecimentos.<br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Não há melhor para tranquilizar e relaxar.<br /></div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-56806760176357889942010-09-27T02:22:00.002+01:002010-09-29T03:18:54.077+01:00O meu/nosso ideal de futuro.<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFqhiaizKoyRhNgoMMhDobBexInSyWoonfdsVwOM7JPaUdEoKPruXEh36efjgElEJqar5vdh56R6qTeszdS9eESZBpiMaxUkbsyncOSiyJHp0TeHUVlsiVTj2YAfIRTfVOJLihisyEYM/s1600/3439014462_14d3d5b842_large.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFqhiaizKoyRhNgoMMhDobBexInSyWoonfdsVwOM7JPaUdEoKPruXEh36efjgElEJqar5vdh56R6qTeszdS9eESZBpiMaxUkbsyncOSiyJHp0TeHUVlsiVTj2YAfIRTfVOJLihisyEYM/s320/3439014462_14d3d5b842_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522154129898576482" border="0" /></a>Imaginamo-nos daqui a uns aninhos a viver num T3, com um quarto para cada um, e o terceiro para ambos, cada um sentado com o seu mac sobre o colo, com imensos livros espalhados pelo chão ao redor da cama, e muito, muito felizes.</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-17588561784118641922010-09-23T16:15:00.000+01:002010-09-23T16:15:16.039+01:00Lazy Days.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTovnSRyS0uz0ypo8Yy2oO3KqMuQuqb_l2ZROZxkgowO7lQTgHkUewXAvUiQM4z3pN6N8KcOHr9X0-7Q-nUBe8QQkdBY-DWjhZFEWk_5N1FcwXlJI-NSFI23PIIsvgDaOvYMJJlS_Atvs/s1600/tumblr_l7ze0ubdpV1qbpdvgo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTovnSRyS0uz0ypo8Yy2oO3KqMuQuqb_l2ZROZxkgowO7lQTgHkUewXAvUiQM4z3pN6N8KcOHr9X0-7Q-nUBe8QQkdBY-DWjhZFEWk_5N1FcwXlJI-NSFI23PIIsvgDaOvYMJJlS_Atvs/s400/tumblr_l7ze0ubdpV1qbpdvgo1_500_large.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Com o final das férias a chegar, cada vez faço menos, e penso mais quando chega o derradeiro dia em que vou voltar a tornar os meus dias produtivos.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">O que eu gostava mesmo, mesmo, mesmo, para ter um final de férias perfeito, era que viesse uma chuvinha, para me poder deliciar ainda mais, metida no sofá, debaixo da mantinha, com o portátil, um livro, o comando da TV, e alguns pacotes de bolachas e afins, tudo à distância de um braço.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Só falta a chuva.</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-15965750501938021862010-09-22T09:21:00.000+01:002010-09-22T09:21:39.866+01:00Estranho, mas estranho.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe1pIz01Ut_fjQJMeNG3gaySeCf_3L0OcyPsLxoVcSrdqcbrCoqucvMSJItSHB4_wQww8xaf7ctBtZjbugPkvdbfzfuI-4_DXPxjX5nYd3AztVpy2-hL1lOUuskDq3ydrv8_zNAKgUiQo/s1600/4919449931_e8e20d5837_z_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe1pIz01Ut_fjQJMeNG3gaySeCf_3L0OcyPsLxoVcSrdqcbrCoqucvMSJItSHB4_wQww8xaf7ctBtZjbugPkvdbfzfuI-4_DXPxjX5nYd3AztVpy2-hL1lOUuskDq3ydrv8_zNAKgUiQo/s320/4919449931_e8e20d5837_z_large.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Após ter adormecido num longo sono de 21 horas na noite de antes de ontem, desde que acordei ontem, que estou com umas dores de cabeça infernais, que se intensificam a cada passo que dou, e teimam em não desaparecer, nem com o analgésico mais forte comercializado nas farmácias. Vou dormir sobre o assunto para ver se passa.</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-66702993775834956072010-09-16T01:53:00.002+01:002010-09-16T01:53:53.121+01:00Baby, Thank God You're Here<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0KyojLg5mXcbfH43YxsRZJjPgcYxKVxGMhwTXOQ79wBryFhyphenhyphen0vazghmqsgiRQYiC7t8apuAQKGiVzgA4Nmdr1GHCBLmgwAKbLN7wnKLJbiJFtZV-rsDi8MQRX4vFM45VjQ5H6mVDVxc/s1600/tumblr_l8t1fh8RXb1qc3mdgo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0KyojLg5mXcbfH43YxsRZJjPgcYxKVxGMhwTXOQ79wBryFhyphenhyphen0vazghmqsgiRQYiC7t8apuAQKGiVzgA4Nmdr1GHCBLmgwAKbLN7wnKLJbiJFtZV-rsDi8MQRX4vFM45VjQ5H6mVDVxc/s320/tumblr_l8t1fh8RXb1qc3mdgo1_500_large.jpg" /></a></div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-24507127192416130572010-09-16T01:51:00.001+01:002010-09-16T01:51:32.667+01:00Carrossel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpxh1tsMLQyVCPH4185Uhyb_HSxo-vjyPi58H5YrpYIyC0jBD7J6kJtXKGXKjhDFevYM9YfzdlDRpH00JLjBK2WJcZkpqqdBpkjJI4_4D-RmDvlw5s8W8UbwoQn3_-l5cNBwndqnosCzw/s1600/tumblr_l8oct9EgZg1qcapg4o1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpxh1tsMLQyVCPH4185Uhyb_HSxo-vjyPi58H5YrpYIyC0jBD7J6kJtXKGXKjhDFevYM9YfzdlDRpH00JLjBK2WJcZkpqqdBpkjJI4_4D-RmDvlw5s8W8UbwoQn3_-l5cNBwndqnosCzw/s320/tumblr_l8oct9EgZg1qcapg4o1_500_large.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">"Tantas voltas dá a vida,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tantas voltas dá o Mundo,</div><div style="text-align: center;">E depois, volta não volta,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Muda tudo num segundo." </div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-19320389125009276012010-09-13T01:51:00.001+01:002010-09-13T03:44:15.976+01:00Em anos passados era assim.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGc2ysykUhHSS0iUtKYUQSX9Mr6CO1tgcLAT_qcwTmp6NVevuxbTUHD_MYnVh8jlOYWMNoDwzxTTRk5c4KxheFZ3sbSKYbnQpwijl3P3e57ViB7l4WxooN7HPXGZovGymVXbz1lJpIVvg/s1600/2010-09-01-f24caba.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGc2ysykUhHSS0iUtKYUQSX9Mr6CO1tgcLAT_qcwTmp6NVevuxbTUHD_MYnVh8jlOYWMNoDwzxTTRk5c4KxheFZ3sbSKYbnQpwijl3P3e57ViB7l4WxooN7HPXGZovGymVXbz1lJpIVvg/s320/2010-09-01-f24caba.png" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.thedoghousediaries.com/comics/uncategorized/2010-09-01-f24caba.png">(clicar para aumentar)</a><a href="http://www.thedoghousediaries.com/comics/uncategorized/2010-09-01-f24caba.png"></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-12284423032937307492010-09-02T07:07:00.000+01:002010-09-02T07:07:09.653+01:00Avante<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMoHJf4TPe64OdhGILUcwsLxi0qQ3X7DZayxRXjpRTpjWjIMm1m2tZHlkApRJD4bGMnbXnpQu8GPOyRWKmNZX7Z7K9-Osv0IfEfYSwvZuPoF82vW94GuxWRCvQXtyobKIIxyarpKIuaM/s1600/tumblr_l3a7maw18s1qa2jsgo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMoHJf4TPe64OdhGILUcwsLxi0qQ3X7DZayxRXjpRTpjWjIMm1m2tZHlkApRJD4bGMnbXnpQu8GPOyRWKmNZX7Z7K9-Osv0IfEfYSwvZuPoF82vW94GuxWRCvQXtyobKIIxyarpKIuaM/s320/tumblr_l3a7maw18s1qa2jsgo1_500_large.jpg" /></a></div>PS: NÃO sou comunista. Só 3 dias por ano -.-'Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-600604713116600572010-08-31T19:08:00.000+01:002010-08-31T19:08:45.526+01:00Ghosts n Stuff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCu9basNa_PmDMCJMxmSnMKRT_OSxNWbX6cwva-S7uD9nm8QnOHBE6P84S3-XxlPHP6KuxbQtqc5A0VEzMONsyhPx2AfP72jSbgGxj7lX661WJB4CGpt1tZaSP_gqE7OUDkh3xuj3e_E/s1600/22450_310014397169_309909682169_3387295_1025277_n_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCu9basNa_PmDMCJMxmSnMKRT_OSxNWbX6cwva-S7uD9nm8QnOHBE6P84S3-XxlPHP6KuxbQtqc5A0VEzMONsyhPx2AfP72jSbgGxj7lX661WJB4CGpt1tZaSP_gqE7OUDkh3xuj3e_E/s320/22450_310014397169_309909682169_3387295_1025277_n_large.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Pergunto-me se vaguearás por entre as tuas histórias como um fantasma, sugando aqui e ali, apenas colectando em si emoções passadas, que só se puxam de volta por algo que o justifique.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Eu vagueio como um fantasma, mais real, na tua própria vida, tão invisível, que não dás por ele, mas que está sempre presente.</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-78428649178619194392010-08-26T04:24:00.000+01:002010-08-26T04:24:24.108+01:00I just want to.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4XmpM0mQCGwVw5CP-I-F6B6dKDDs7xlNBoaYvV4gt8cGYvFY2K_NLCsiwKeUHHFvnh3tNUvDNw3mmyf2dmTXHmHxZH7u31sLf4fyvSHlWG3DlbgKI5mSqYK9lna5XmpHTYIrt_nvhLM/s1600/tumblr_l68vkn3e0j1qai4jxo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4XmpM0mQCGwVw5CP-I-F6B6dKDDs7xlNBoaYvV4gt8cGYvFY2K_NLCsiwKeUHHFvnh3tNUvDNw3mmyf2dmTXHmHxZH7u31sLf4fyvSHlWG3DlbgKI5mSqYK9lna5XmpHTYIrt_nvhLM/s400/tumblr_l68vkn3e0j1qai4jxo1_500_large.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-62035415696188067612010-08-23T18:45:00.000+01:002010-08-23T18:45:22.363+01:00I love rainy days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AxH8R4nHsVHjgoCp8qBoEoYkXBEQ-cp6_SqhuvEyOk4BIJWoa5_9d7rwD4WYN_A142Yfje6brcGHSNPz8_YZ9ZnwkBT7qz7ybCNiT7tk8Hq1Xw5c95E7QvB6QI5En9TWjLCeF9Sptd0/s1600/tumblr_l70vzax2AE1qzf0d9o1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AxH8R4nHsVHjgoCp8qBoEoYkXBEQ-cp6_SqhuvEyOk4BIJWoa5_9d7rwD4WYN_A142Yfje6brcGHSNPz8_YZ9ZnwkBT7qz7ybCNiT7tk8Hq1Xw5c95E7QvB6QI5En9TWjLCeF9Sptd0/s320/tumblr_l70vzax2AE1qzf0d9o1_500_large.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="short_text" id="result_box"><span title="">Especially when they are least expected, but still, convenient.</span></span></div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-80014680109290230102010-08-17T00:59:00.001+01:002010-08-21T21:35:24.564+01:00♥<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVYrPTBOWvnDOGMifuzftBtNdxzYKs2Ve8CcoGJmRbRsXVum4cCHkN4gOYazVb1KZuWM4NvS0r6AQA8LK5r1LhDzsYpGu78DYXK2sXrZk7ZgVQ0twnNaRsn_YDRsN4WGgfvBfLp1zk34/s1600/tumblr_l700gulDeF1qc5nzeo1_400_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVYrPTBOWvnDOGMifuzftBtNdxzYKs2Ve8CcoGJmRbRsXVum4cCHkN4gOYazVb1KZuWM4NvS0r6AQA8LK5r1LhDzsYpGu78DYXK2sXrZk7ZgVQ0twnNaRsn_YDRsN4WGgfvBfLp1zk34/s320/tumblr_l700gulDeF1qc5nzeo1_400_large.jpg" /></a></div>Wherever life takes you, at the end of the day I'll be waiting for you at HOME.</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-69441949596969244272010-08-13T08:06:00.002+01:002010-08-13T08:14:23.313+01:00Todo high.<center><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y4Y7GMPJO64?fs=1&hl=pt_PT"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y4Y7GMPJO64?fs=1&hl=pt_PT" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object></center><br />
Estava eu toda entretida num jogo online, à procura de alguém para atacar, e vi um tipo que dava pelo nome de "Bob Marley", como achei piada, decidi atacá-lo. Quando para surpresa minha, o jogo estava mais real do que eu esperava, o tipo falhou cerca de 75% dos ataques que fez contra mim.<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Não deixes a "religião" que não é preciso. Ou como diria Camões "as brocas e os canhões assinalados". </div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-52775435490110004102010-08-13T01:53:00.002+01:002010-08-21T17:50:18.619+01:00Coisas de ser mulher #5<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgai6u_0ORxEDRkdgATaa9_I_3Zp3WOm4OoI9HN0LJX94tYrj_fatAwQ7vhvuoQRjgintWTa3N4bzPkTci_IMw6R5YdugUU9EjdaFq8HSeTwi1-KZG_kUg5VuZBeH7jvpLSyIXGbXTJAtQ/s1600/tumblr_l798e27DYi1qbswm3o1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgai6u_0ORxEDRkdgATaa9_I_3Zp3WOm4OoI9HN0LJX94tYrj_fatAwQ7vhvuoQRjgintWTa3N4bzPkTci_IMw6R5YdugUU9EjdaFq8HSeTwi1-KZG_kUg5VuZBeH7jvpLSyIXGbXTJAtQ/s320/tumblr_l798e27DYi1qbswm3o1_500_large.jpg" /></a></div>Andar com a maquilhagem atrás, e andar a retocá-la sempre que necessário é tramado que nem vos conto.</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-26278676751400294092010-08-13T01:51:00.000+01:002010-08-13T01:51:24.344+01:00Hábitos #1<div style="text-align: justify;">Um dos montes que tenho, é sempre que caio de pára-quedas num novo blogue tenho que ir aos arquivos mais remotos para ler o primeiro post de todos. É uma certa convicção de que diz muito acerca do escritor, e do blogue em si.</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-90529669101048005302010-08-10T21:01:00.001+01:002010-08-13T06:15:29.759+01:00Coisas de ser mulher #4 - Bunch of pervs.Porque é que quando me arranjo um bocadinho mais que o costume, me aparece sempre algum marmanjo que na eventualidade de não perguntar "Desculpe, mas não nos conhecemos noutra ocasião?", acaba a gaguejar entre pausas para engolir a saliva?Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-16992135773720233502010-08-10T14:58:00.003+01:002010-08-21T17:45:58.005+01:00Just like a statue.<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jqmV1R0qtJXoDEzI0v78aUu3rbK-aXVbAkYNQ3277c7rarUJagTvQdViNwZrMkWiNUfOop8u9qQhPwc06O4eiozpFx4Hdpmocx-e22y61Mk_iNq4mzOyvkS6UxruEwgPc2Y4XCzPSp8/s1600/IMG_4784_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jqmV1R0qtJXoDEzI0v78aUu3rbK-aXVbAkYNQ3277c7rarUJagTvQdViNwZrMkWiNUfOop8u9qQhPwc06O4eiozpFx4Hdpmocx-e22y61Mk_iNq4mzOyvkS6UxruEwgPc2Y4XCzPSp8/s320/IMG_4784_large.jpg" /></a></div>A natureza pára-me estática e imponentemente à frente, consciente da minha impotência para a aprisionar.</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-44728654273660340292010-08-03T08:04:00.000+01:002010-08-03T08:04:42.184+01:00No final a juventude é que é feita otária!<div style="text-align: justify;">Os velhinhos também gozam... Quando eles vos disserem "Adeus" em vez de "Olá", lembrem-se disto, que estão a levar baile ou a serem despachados. E como os velhinhos são solitários, não têm motivos para despachar ninguém, se o fizerem é porque estão a tramar alguma!</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-66060609719107214832010-08-03T03:57:00.002+01:002010-08-21T17:34:58.322+01:00Coisas de ser mulher #3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONZHeBIyngUl6VnDybVlhbBVJ_c0Y5iOAnbl1DyjBLjK0KDNLrJaTqupELybnR_mt5z9p8Zh0XQLoBQXi61Py16GPRJ0fNjziLkvt1yzNgKyQh6iH04uoJQV8XGDCJQCGPxek4TZzJEc/s1600/tumblr_l7hzav3eO51qd6h34o1_400_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONZHeBIyngUl6VnDybVlhbBVJ_c0Y5iOAnbl1DyjBLjK0KDNLrJaTqupELybnR_mt5z9p8Zh0XQLoBQXi61Py16GPRJ0fNjziLkvt1yzNgKyQh6iH04uoJQV8XGDCJQCGPxek4TZzJEc/s320/tumblr_l7hzav3eO51qd6h34o1_400_large.jpg" /></a></div>Estou para conhecer a primeira mulher que consiga passar um dia inteiro, mesmo que dos menos atarefados, com tudo nos bolsos e não na mala.Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-26212058616247812932010-07-29T00:57:00.001+01:002010-08-13T02:07:21.289+01:00É assim que se conhecem pessoas novas, conhecendo melhor as que já "conhecemos".Com cada amizade aprofundada, abrem-se portas para novos círculos de amigos, e assim se estabelecem novas conexões.Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-52897462020284808882010-07-27T02:39:00.002+01:002010-08-21T17:33:10.528+01:00Facebook.<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_kYC7EEWJ1CyUYpLfO8gH3dNSKlcXIJijY7Gn86avt8ZOAeXtS54ufjwcvEeAOi7He9R-Ous7fUXPpdVdr7XGNfMWjTYAbfbKd3n7cXj8-b28JrLyW09MgWdlNE2uIE_lcFOfCfHVHrY/s1600/tumblr_l7dl6tmk3n1qb5xego1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_kYC7EEWJ1CyUYpLfO8gH3dNSKlcXIJijY7Gn86avt8ZOAeXtS54ufjwcvEeAOi7He9R-Ous7fUXPpdVdr7XGNfMWjTYAbfbKd3n7cXj8-b28JrLyW09MgWdlNE2uIE_lcFOfCfHVHrY/s320/tumblr_l7dl6tmk3n1qb5xego1_500_large.jpg" /></a></div>Eu ando cada vez mais convencida que a grande generalidade das pessoas que têm facebook, dentro dos meus círculos de amigos, andam a competir com toda a gente, para ver quem tem as férias aparentemente mais divertidas.</div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8528235880337883071.post-87309250511395115522010-07-08T01:09:00.001+01:002010-08-13T02:06:51.082+01:00Inspiração como gente.<div style="text-align: justify;">Por querer ou não querer, deixo a sensibilidade para lá do que apenas quero ver agora.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ela não insiste, eu também não a procuro.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Procuro-a e ela não vem. Chamo, alicio, chantagio, e continua sem aparecer.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Quando tudo está bem, nem tudo bem está. E é nessas alturas que ela surge.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Primeiro sorrateira, tentando passar despercebida, e logo ganhando pujança, revelando-se como gente grande, qual polvo preparando seu manjar.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">De espírito de contradição como ninguém, penso que é pessoa, quando nem físico é.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Preciso tanto dela, que tira serenidade a dias de chuva, e alegria a dias de sol; põe a direita na esquerda, e a esquerda na direita, o baixo em cima, e o cima em baixo.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">No final, trazendo o que traga como bagagem, tenho-lhe sempre a porta aberta, e com a maior hospitalidade a recebo.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Volta sempre.</i></div>Mrs. Dallowayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17849203522131464619noreply@blogger.com0