<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159</id><updated>2009-12-14T13:01:49.997-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Perdida da Vida // Lost in Life</title><subtitle type='html'>Eu nao sei o que eu quero da vida, nem o que eu espero dela. Em resumo: eu sou um ser humano inutil que decidiu criar um blog. Este blog nao tem utilidade. 
I dont know what I want from life, nor what I should expect from it. In sume: I am a useless human being that decided to creat a blog. This blog has no use.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-7982884651834565819</id><published>2008-12-19T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T12:44:42.856-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Versao em Portugues'/><title type='text'>Pensamentos sobre a vida</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;1. Eu era tao inteligente mas tao idiota. Agora sou menos idiota, mas a inteligencia tb se foi. Acho que a velhice se faz presente. Se aos 30 eu ja percebo a lentidao que se apodera de meu cerebro, imagine aos 70... ou aos 80?! Vou ter q tatuar o meu nome no meu braco, para me lembrar de quem sou...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Ou a realidade é muito chata, ou os meus sonhos sao muito legais. Sim, dormir para mim é divertido. A sensacao de tempo perdido depois é que me deprime... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-7982884651834565819?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/7982884651834565819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=7982884651834565819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/7982884651834565819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/7982884651834565819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2008/12/pensamentos-sobre-vida.html' title='Pensamentos sobre a vida'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-4031502096989629437</id><published>2007-11-07T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T07:56:19.089-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu ainda existo / I still exist</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Oi, so gostaria de dizer, que eu ainda existo. Nao tenho escrito nada de novo, mas isto eh pq eu nao sei o que dizer... talvez mais tarde...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Hi, just wanted to say, that I still exist. Have not written anything new in a while, but that is because I don't really know what to say.... maybe later...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-4031502096989629437?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4031502096989629437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=4031502096989629437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/4031502096989629437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/4031502096989629437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2007/11/eu-ainda-existo-i-still-exist.html' title='Eu ainda existo / I still exist'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-1216021904333397982</id><published>2007-05-30T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T03:11:24.704-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English Version'/><title type='text'>Voodoo against wicked neighbour recipe: How to transform him into an ugly woman.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ingredients:&lt;br /&gt;1 package beans&lt;br /&gt;1 cabbage&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon of bat powder&lt;br /&gt;1 foul egg&lt;br /&gt;1 stinking old fish&lt;br /&gt;1 badly smelling shoe&lt;br /&gt;1 black goat&lt;br /&gt;1 dog costume&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to prepare: Put all ingredients but the black goat and the dog costume in a pot. Cover with water and let it boil indefinitely. The stench will attract the wicked neighbour to the spell. While he looks into the pot, release the black goat, that mad with the bad smell of the potion, will knock-out the wicked neighbour with a strategic horn thrust. Then, you dress him with the dog costume and take him to a veterinarian to be neutered. The results will be noticeable in a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Success guaranty: 100%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-1216021904333397982?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/1216021904333397982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=1216021904333397982' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/1216021904333397982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/1216021904333397982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2007/05/voodoo-against-wicked-neighbour-recipe.html' title='Voodoo against wicked neighbour recipe: How to transform him into an ugly woman.'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-5532526433409806356</id><published>2007-06-10T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T06:22:33.300-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English Version'/><title type='text'>Life is too complicated</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Every action produces a reaction. However not every action that we take produces the reaction that we wanted. Yes, life is too complicated. I wanted to leave A and reach B, a simple straight line, but instead of that I endet up getting lost in F and reaching M. Now I don't want B anymore anyway, and not any other letter from the alphabet for that matter, as I would end up reaching the wrong letter as usual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Could it be that the wrong letter is actually the right letter? If life gives you a lemon, prepair a lemonade? Is this the meaning of life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I don't know, I just know that life is too complicated...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-5532526433409806356?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5532526433409806356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=5532526433409806356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/5532526433409806356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/5532526433409806356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2007/06/life-is-too-complicated.html' title='Life is too complicated'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-4385953623720562478</id><published>2007-06-10T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T06:17:30.381-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Versao em Portugues'/><title type='text'>A vida é muito complicada</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Cada acao provoca uma reacao. Mas nem toda acao que tomamos provoca a reacao que esperamos. É, a vida é mesmo muito complicada. Eu queria sair de A e chegar em B, uma linha reta bem simples, mas ao invés disso me perdi em F e fui cair em M. Agora também nao me interesso mais por B, e nem por mais nenhuma letra do alfabeto. O que também nao importaria, por que sempre acabo caindo na letra errada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Ou será que a letra errada é a letra certa? Se te derem um limao, faca uma limonada? Será este o sentido da vida?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Nao sei, só sei que a vida é muito complicada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-4385953623720562478?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4385953623720562478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=4385953623720562478' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/4385953623720562478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/4385953623720562478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2007/06/vida-muito-complicada.html' title='A vida é muito complicada'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-6661591744107578811</id><published>2007-05-31T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T15:58:07.937-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English Version'/><title type='text'>The chair that swings - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It came from the trash and moved up in life, until the first floor of an apartment building for students in Siegen. There it was received with lots of love and disinfectant and put in front of a table with a computer on it. At each ass move that is done in contact to its seat, responds the chair with its swing…&lt;br /&gt;To be continued…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-6661591744107578811?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/6661591744107578811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=6661591744107578811' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/6661591744107578811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/6661591744107578811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2007/05/chair-that-swings-part-1.html' title='The chair that swings - Part 1'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-5861651105689911191</id><published>2007-05-28T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T15:57:39.662-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English Version'/><title type='text'>Sponge-Phobia (translated by mom)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A friend of mine says that I have some very strange habits, and she is right. Today I tried to describe to my mother the torment that it is to me in order to clean up the kitchen. At the same time I could not stop laughing about myself, because when I put my sponge-phobia into words, I noticed how absurd it was. Here is how the story goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always wear gloves when I touch sponges, which I hate, but ironically I was not wearing gloves when we decided to clean the kitchen. Awful... I took a new sponge for me, that is not as disgusting as sponges already in use, and decided to clean a part which was not that dirty. Difficult, but ok. Then, for sheer lack of attention, I left the sponge somewhere for just a minute and when I came back my cleaning-pal was using MY sponge to clean a particularly dirty part of the kitchen; that was too much for my phobia, which grew stronger than my rationality. I found a pair of gloves which were used for hair dying in order go on with the cleaning. The funny part of this incident comes when I tried to describe the whole affair to my mother (which is a sensible person concerning sponges), the "why" of my phobia. The message run more or less like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: Mom, we cleaned the kitchen, every single glass, dish, pot, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Ouch, a hell of a work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: but the worst of it is, that now I have no new gloves and will have to touch that sponge to wash the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Look, that will not kill you. Remember that the leftover on the dish is exactly the same food what you put in your mouth before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: The sponge is the problem, it absorbs everything and then, I mean, the bits were left on the dish. They grow old on the sponge and when you rinse it next time for use, a dirty broth comes out, and while you are rubbing the little grains insist in coming between your hand and the sponge…. HELP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: No, you're not doing it the right way. You rinse the utensils as soon as you finished eating. The leftovers are rinsed away. Then you put soap on a clean the sponge, rub and rinse, dry and … ready!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: did you read the end of my sponge-story?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Yes, I did, but this happens because you do not rinse or clean with a paper towel the dishes, pans, etc. before washing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: I always do, but if it is stuck to the utensil, then nothing can be done. And you know, one grain is enough to bother me and… oh that old broth flowing from the sponge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: It can't be old if you wash up immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: But the sponge stays there for one, two weeks, its new one day and the other it is already dirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed that mom did not get the idea of my phobia and that she believed that my pals soiled the sponge…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Damn it, these people don't know how to do the dishes. Paper towels are great. Try to pass the idea to your friends. If the sponge remains dirty on the sink, than it's your turn to get angry or ask the nurse (who lives here with us) for help. There is no use to wash all the utensils with disinfectants if the sponge is to put all the germs back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to explain myself more clearly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: No matter what sponge, I see a sponge and can’t stop thinking on the old broth, I never used a sponge back at home, I hate sponges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Well, you will have to "un-hate" it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: but I keep hating sponges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it dawned upon my mother and she philosophized about the issue:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother: Each one of us has its own paranoias. How could we enjoy peace of mind if there were no paranoias, annoyances, etc. in contrast?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very deep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-5861651105689911191?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5861651105689911191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=5861651105689911191' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/5861651105689911191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/5861651105689911191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2007/05/sponge-phobia-translated-by-mom.html' title='Sponge-Phobia (translated by mom)'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-8038780904714433582</id><published>2007-05-31T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T10:59:09.652-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Versao em Portugues'/><title type='text'>A cadeira que rebola – Parte 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Ela veio do lixo e subiu na vida, ate o primeiro andar de um predio de apartamentos para estudantes em Siegen. Lá ela foi recebida com muito amor e desinfetante e posta frente a uma mesa, onde se localiza um computador. A cada movimento que a bunda faz em contato com seu assento responde a cadeira com seu rebolar...&lt;br /&gt;Continua...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-8038780904714433582?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/8038780904714433582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=8038780904714433582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/8038780904714433582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/8038780904714433582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2007/05/cadeira-que-rebola-parte-1.html' title='A cadeira que rebola – Parte 1'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-4687536037660850736</id><published>2007-05-30T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T09:54:31.194-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Versao em Portugues'/><title type='text'>Receita de vudu contra vizinho maléfico: Como transformá-lo em uma mulher feia.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Ingredientes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;1 pacote de Feijao&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;1 repolho inteiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;1 colher de pó de morcego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;1 ovo podre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;1 bode preto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;1 peixe amanhecido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;1 sapato com chulé (forte)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;1 fantasia de cachorro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Modo de preparo: Ponha todos os ingredientes em um caldeirao, exceto o bode preto e a fantasia de cachorro. Adicione água e deixe ferver indefinidamente. O fedor irá atrair o vizinho maléfico até local do feitico. Enquanto ele olha o que há dentro do caldeirao, solte o bode preto, que infurecido e tomado pelo mal cheiro da pocao, irá nocautear o vizinho maléfico com uma cabecada estratégica. Vista entao o visinho maléfico com a fantasia de cachorro e leve-o ao veterinário para castracao. O resultado será visível em poucos dias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Garantia de sucesso: 100%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-4687536037660850736?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4687536037660850736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=4687536037660850736' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/4687536037660850736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/4687536037660850736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2007/05/receita-de-vudu-contra-vizinho-malfico.html' title='Receita de vudu contra vizinho maléfico: Como transformá-lo em uma mulher feia.'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-7890535163656278539</id><published>2007-05-27T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T09:42:36.955-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Versao em Portugues'/><title type='text'>Esponja-fobia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Eu tenho uma amiga que diz que eu tenho manias estranhicimas, e ela tem razao. Hoje fui tentar descrever o meu martirio em limpar a cozinha para a minha mae. Ao mesmo tempo nao conseguia parar de rir de mim mesma, por que quando coloquei minha esponja-fobia em palavras, notei o quao absurda ela era. Eis a historia completa:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;   Eu sempre uso luvas para pegar em esponjas, eu as odeio, mas por ironia do destino, estava sem luvas quando decidimos limpar a cozinha. Ai, foi horrivel... eu peguei para mim uma esponja nova, que nao eh tao nojenta quanto uma esponja ja usada, e resolvi limpar o que ja estava praticamente limpo. Foi dificil, mas estava dando certo. Dai eu, por pura falta de atencao, larguei a esponja so por um instante, e quando voltei a minha colega de limpeza estava usando a MINHA esponja, para limpar um treco muito sujo na cozinha... dai nao deu, a fobia foi mais forte que eu, achei umas luvas de pintar cabelo para continuar a limpeza. O engracado da historia foi na realidade tentar descrever para minha mae (que eh uma pessoa bastante normal em relacao a esponjas) o por que da minha fobia. Esta conversa tivemos no msg:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Eu: limpamos a cozinha, todos os copos, pratos, panelas, etc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mae: ái, que trabalheira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu: mas o pior eh q agora to sem luva e vou ter q encostar na esponja para lavar meus pratos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mae: Olha, não mata niguem. Lembra que o que restou no prato foi aquilo que vc colocou na boca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu: o problema eh a esponja, pq ela chupa tudo, dai o q restou no prato vai parar la dentro, dai fica velho la dentro, dai poe agua e espreme, e sai caldinho do negocio velho, dai qdo ta lavando fica graozinho entre a mao e a esponja.... ai socorro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mae: Não, não é assim que se faz. Vc passa uma água nos utensílios assim que acabou de comer. Aí os restos já vão embora.Aí vc ensaboa uma esponja legal, passa em tudo, enxagua tudo, enxuga tudo, e bybybyb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu: vc leu ate o fim a minha historia da esponja?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mae: Sim, lí, mas isso acontece porque vc não passa uma aguinha ou um papel toalha nos pratos, panelas, etc. antes de lavar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu: sempre passo, mas se grudou nao tem jeito, e basta um graozinho para eu me incomodar e o caldinho do treco velho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mae: Não pode estar velho se vc se decidir a lavar imediatamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu: mas a esponja fica la uma, duas semanas, se for nova nao tem problema, no dia seguinte ja tem caldinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nesta parte noto que minha mae nao entende a minha fobia, e acha que os meus colegas eh que “sujam” a esponja...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mae: Pô, então esse povo tb não aprendeu a lavar louça. Papel toalha é uma grande solução. Vê se com jeitinho implanta essa idéia. Se a esponja ficar toda com caldinho parada na pia, aí é tua vez de estrilar ou pedir um help à enfermeira (moca que mora aqui comigo). Não adianta passar desinfetante nos utensílios se a esponja vai colocar todos os germes de volta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tento me explicar mais claramente:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu: nao importa qual esponja, eu vejo uma esponja e ja imagino o caldinho, eu tb nunca encostei na esponja em casa, eu odeio esponja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mae: Bom, então vai ter que desodiar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu: mas eu continuo odiando a esponja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha mae entao entende e filosofa sobre o assunto:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mae: cada um de nós tem suas paranóias. O que seria da paz interior se não tivessemos paranóias, turbulências etc para contrastar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Profundo....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-7890535163656278539?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/7890535163656278539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=7890535163656278539' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/7890535163656278539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/7890535163656278539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2007/05/esponja-fobia.html' title='Esponja-fobia'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-116535905753712871</id><published>2006-12-05T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T14:50:57.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mashines - Maquinas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Why do people eat? I think it is a stupid thing, you eat, you shit, you get hungry again. We are basicaly shit producers, or should I say machines? Mashines is better, as we have no control over it, and as producers, we could maybe choose the products we want to offer. I spent last week €15 on food, just in the supermarket, not counting the extras at university and stuff. This week I spent other €15.... I would like to spend this money in a better way, but I cant, I have no control over it. That is really shitty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Por que as pessoas comem? Eu acho isso uma coisa idiota, voce come, caga, fica com fome de novo. Nos somos basicamente produtores de bosta, ou devo dizer maquinas? Acho que maquinas fica melhor, ja que nao temos controle sobre isso, e como produtores, talvez pudessemos escolher o produto que queremos oferecer. Gastei €15 a semana passada em comida, so supermercado, nao contando os extras na faculdade e tal. Esta semana gastei mas €15... Gostaria de gastar esse dinheiro em coisas melhores, mas nao posso, eu nao tenho controle sobre isso. Isto eh realmente uma merda.&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;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-116535905753712871?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/116535905753712871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=116535905753712871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116535905753712871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116535905753712871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2006/12/mashines-maquinas.html' title='Mashines - Maquinas'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-116526238516949225</id><published>2006-12-04T11:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T11:59:45.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>About lazyness - Sobre a preguica</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yes, I am a lazy person. I wish I were not, but I am. I would like to be one of those people full of energy, that wake up in the morning and start doing stuff, work, study, go out at night and are still in a great mood. I envy those people. I cannot manage that. I am always sleepy and tired. I could hybernate like a bear for 6 months in a row, and wenn I woke up, I would still be tired, and would probably hybernate for the next 6 months. As a bear I would be dead. As a human, I am just behind, a loser, 96 years old. Wenn I feel like doing something, I stop and think for a while: should I really start? Will I be able to finish it? I think starting something and not being able to finish it is worse than not doing it at all. So, most of the time, I dont do anything at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Sim, eu sou uma pessoa preguicosa. Eu preferia nao ser, mas sou. Eu gostaria de ser uma daquelas pessoas cheia de energia, que levantam de manha e comecam a fazer coisas, trabalham, estudam, saem a noite e ainda estao de bom humor. Eu invejo estas pessoas. Eu nao consigo. Estou sempre sonolenta e cansada. Poderia hibernar por 6 meses direto, e quando acordasse, ainda estaria cansada. Se fosse urso, estaria morta. Como humana, eu fico apenas para tras, perdedora, 96 anos de idade. Quando eu sinto vontade de fazer algo, eu paro e penso por um momento: devo realmente comecar? Eu vou conseguir terminar o que comecei? Acho que comercar algo e nao terminar eh pior do que nao fazer nada. Entao, a maior parte do tempo, eu nao faco nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-116526238516949225?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/116526238516949225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=116526238516949225' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116526238516949225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116526238516949225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2006/12/about-lazyness-sobre-preguica.html' title='About lazyness - Sobre a preguica'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-116481737980856821</id><published>2006-11-29T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T08:22:59.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boredom / Tédio</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yes, I remembered i do have sth to write about, about being bored. This is one of these moments in life. I do have stuff to do (actually, stuff I should be doing or should be done by now..) but I dont want to do that. I dont want to do anything. But I also feel bored because I am not doing anything. It´s such a paradox...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Sim, me lembrei que tenho algo para escrever, sobre estar entediada. Agora pode ser classificado como um destes momentos. Eu tenho coisas a fazer (coisas que eu na realidade eu deveria estar fazendo ou ja ter feito) mas eu nao quero fazer isso. Eu nao quero fazer nada. Mas ao mesmo tempo fico entediada devido a isso. É um paradoxo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-116481737980856821?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/116481737980856821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=116481737980856821' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116481737980856821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116481737980856821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2006/11/boredom-tdio.html' title='Boredom / Tédio'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-116481673771620574</id><published>2006-11-29T08:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T08:12:17.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uselesness / Inutilidades</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I really wanted to have sth to write about, but i don´t...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Eu realmente gostaria de ter algo para escrever, mas nao tenho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-116481673771620574?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/116481673771620574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=116481673771620574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116481673771620574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116481673771620574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2006/11/uselesness-inutilidades.html' title='Uselesness / Inutilidades'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-116265871338394041</id><published>2006-11-04T08:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T08:08:43.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep thoughts / Pensamentos profundos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Life can be so complicated, even when you try not to do much... and have you noticed how problems accumulate and generate other problems? I have a headache&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;A vida pode ser complicada, mesmo qdo se tenta nao fazer muita coisa... e ja perceberam como problemas se acumulam e geram novos problemas? Estou com dor de cabeca...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lost in Life / Perdida da Vida&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-116265871338394041?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/116265871338394041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=116265871338394041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116265871338394041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116265871338394041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2006/11/deep-thoughts-pensamentos-profundos.html' title='Deep thoughts / Pensamentos profundos'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-116258339413850474</id><published>2006-11-03T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T08:07:55.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog???</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have no idea how this thing works...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Nao faco ideia de como esse treco funciona... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lost in Life / Perdida da Vida&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-116258339413850474?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/116258339413850474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=116258339413850474' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116258339413850474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116258339413850474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2006/11/blog.html' title='Blog???'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37085159.post-116300818973464078</id><published>2006-11-08T09:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T08:06:08.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is me. / Esta sou eu.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5920/4158/1600/Alemanha%20020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5920/4158/400/Alemanha%20020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37085159-116300818973464078?l=perdidadavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/feeds/116300818973464078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37085159&amp;postID=116300818973464078' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116300818973464078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37085159/posts/default/116300818973464078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://perdidadavida.blogspot.com/2006/11/this-is-me-esta-sou-eu.html' title='This is me. / Esta sou eu.'/><author><name>Juliana Brunello</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05915521804125095438</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11401774416421119833'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry></feed>