<?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-5530029</id><updated>2011-11-18T19:24:24.036Z</updated><title type='text'>PickPocket</title><subtitle type='html'>Palpites, inspiracoes, transcricoes, roubos descarados, comentarios e bocas;                   mail : pickpocket@netcabo.pt



</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>279</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-109076303458402969</id><published>2004-07-25T14:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-25T14:43:54.590+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The end of this affair</title><summary type='text'>A pretexto de um acidente "informático" que afectou o domingo de hoje, em que me cansei de escrever templates e a palavra "pickpocket", após um ano e 5000 visitas, muitos comentários e bocas, acaba aqui o Pickpocket.Na pouca transparência de alguns posts se reflectiram alguns maus momentos, pequenas crises e maus humores do autor. Alguns ficaram amenizados pela escrita digital aqui feita como se </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/109076303458402969/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=109076303458402969' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/109076303458402969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/109076303458402969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/end-of-this-affair.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;The end of this affair&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-109053776487589816</id><published>2004-07-23T00:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-23T00:17:01.980+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sayonara: ocean is calling</title><summary type='text'>Sayonara: morning is breaking, say goodbye now, please don´t cry nowI can feel your heartbeat (1991)Ryuichi SakamotoArto LindsayBill FrisellDavid Sylvian</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/109053776487589816/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=109053776487589816' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/109053776487589816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/109053776487589816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/sayonara-ocean-is-calling.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Sayonara: ocean is calling&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-109053573761199841</id><published>2004-07-22T23:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-22T23:35:37.616+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sakamoto : turning japanese</title><summary type='text'> Ryuichi Sakamoto: Beauty (1990)Kuimuduchi mibusa nkashi(I long to call back the past)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/109053573761199841/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=109053573761199841' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/109053573761199841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/109053573761199841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/sakamoto-turning-japanese.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Sakamoto : turning japanese&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108938112862748194</id><published>2004-07-09T14:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-09T14:52:08.633+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sinal para os tempos que não falam</title><summary type='text'>Talvez seja sina. Isto é sinal, um mau sinal, ou pelos menos é sinal de que se escrevo é para não falar.Para não falar, só porque não há ninguém para falar. Ou todos os que há para falar não são os que eram necessários para ouvir o que houvera eu querido dizer.Assim, venho aqui e escrevo, escrevo que parto hoje, não falando. Toda a gente parte de todo o lado para todo o lado, e o animal que me </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108938112862748194/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108938112862748194' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108938112862748194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108938112862748194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/sinal-para-os-tempos-que-no-falam.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Sinal para os tempos que n&amp;atilde;o falam&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108932801208118184</id><published>2004-07-09T00:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-09T00:06:52.450+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Heads will roll (II)</title><summary type='text'>Who knows: perhaps eyes form in spaceand look on everywhere (Rainer Maria Rilke) CaravaggioSalome with the Head of the Baptist c. 1609Palazzo Real, Madrid</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108932801208118184/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108932801208118184' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108932801208118184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108932801208118184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/heads-will-roll-ii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Heads will roll (II)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108932470071361744</id><published>2004-07-08T23:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-08T23:11:40.756+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Para acabar de vez com as eleições</title><summary type='text'>eu por mim passava bem sem eleições. Para quê? se estamos tão bem no poder, podíamos mesmo anular o método e passavamos a eleger o 1º primeiro ministro em Conselho Nacional, sempre. Bem eu até nem me importava de ir a votos, mas só se tivesse mesmo a certeza de que era eu eleito, assim só para saber se era muita gente a votar ou não. Mais nada, porque eu tenho a certeza de que o interesse </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108932470071361744/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108932470071361744' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108932470071361744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108932470071361744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/para-acabar-de-vez-com-as-eleies.html' title='&lt;font face=&quot;&apos;Times New Roman&apos;,Times,serif&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot; size=&quot;7&quot;&gt;Para acabar de vez com as elei&amp;ccedil;&amp;otilde;es&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108924258073748041</id><published>2004-07-08T00:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-08T00:23:01.006+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bittersweet</title><summary type='text'>1. Amanhã o PR vai convocar eleições. Não sei porque lhe chamam antecipadas. Parece-me que antecipámos a necessidade de eleições, por isso o que é antecipado é a sua necessidade.Jorge, ainda bem que não tens medo da direita desgovernada e, que diabo, se houver manifestações contrárias é nas discotecas !2. Amanhã o PR vai dar uma segunda oportunidade à "maioria". Parece-lhe que a "estabilidade" é </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108924258073748041/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108924258073748041' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108924258073748041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108924258073748041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/bittersweet.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#00FF80&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;Bittersweet&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108924019875465751</id><published>2004-07-07T23:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-07T23:43:18.760+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O livro gordo</title><summary type='text'>A garantia de que outros reconheceram "que é bom"Tem 540 páginas mas não importa porque "se lê muito bem"Não é preciso experimentar porque "é garantido que não se consegue largar"Compra-se como um seguro de leitura !A garrafa tem dois aspectos: meio cheia ou meio vazia.Os livros gordos que fazem sucesso fazem-no porque de repente ganham um libelo de qualidade associado a uma facilidade de leitura</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108924019875465751/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108924019875465751' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108924019875465751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108924019875465751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/o-livro-gordo.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;O livro gordo&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108922609525293595</id><published>2004-07-07T19:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-07T19:48:15.260+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Raros são os dias (XVI)</title><summary type='text'>LuandaAgora olhava pela janela do 7º andar, muito tempo depois de tudo e muito tempo antes de poder esquecer a angustia de manhã, a angustia dos locais, todos os que eram reconheciveis, mas também todos os que eram novos e que ela não poderia sentir. Viu a manhã de Luanda, com pouco sol, uma névoa insistente, um cheiro do café, sentou-se na cadeira de verga a olhar mais um pacote onde espreitavam</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108922609525293595/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108922609525293595' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108922609525293595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108922609525293595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/raros-so-os-dias-xvi.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#0080C0&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (XVI)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108897974779404037</id><published>2004-07-04T23:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-04T23:22:27.800+01:00</updated><title type='text'>After the fall</title><summary type='text'>Como antecipado pela voz dos deuses,  o mito terminou :</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108897974779404037/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108897974779404037' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108897974779404037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108897974779404037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/after-fall.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#000040&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;After the fall&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108893813698323529</id><published>2004-07-04T11:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-04T11:48:56.986+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mythos</title><summary type='text'>Mythos: o que não pode realmente existir, segundo os gregos. Ou, segundo outros, o que aconteceu pode repetir-se, pelo poder dos rituais. Por se contar a história, o mito, uma e outra vez.Por desafiar a vontade de Zeus, Prometheus foi amarrado a uma coluna onde uma águia vinha debicar-lhe o fígado. Todas as noites voltava o fígado a reconstruir-se e de novo voltava a águia no dia seguinte para o </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108893813698323529/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108893813698323529' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108893813698323529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108893813698323529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/mythos.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#400040&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;Mythos&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108875417519035826</id><published>2004-07-02T08:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-02T08:53:01.150+01:00</updated><title type='text'> Raros são os dias (XV)</title><summary type='text'>LuandaAo tentar parar a realidade que estava ali a bater-lhe com força desqualificada, ao tentar olhar sempre mais para trás, ao tentar somar os 34 anos de vida com os 34 anos que levaria de novo até chegar ao princípio, que apelaria a qualquer potestade para que fosse um fim, viu o rosto de Laura bem junto ao seu, uma carícia de ambos, que juravam alguem jamais ter feito, encostavam a face </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108875417519035826/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108875417519035826' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108875417519035826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108875417519035826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/raros-so-os-dias-xv.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#008080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt; Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (XV)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108872121843645610</id><published>2004-07-01T23:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-01T23:37:13.713+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wat is dat ?</title><summary type='text'>A presidência europeia é da Holanda, apenas duas horas depois de terem sido espremidos por nós, e apesar do nosso coração pequenino ter batido mal, como sempreNem sei porque acho isto tão importante, mas esta safadeza do Jose Manuel Barrosso de desligar do PSD e avançar para CEuropeu tem dedo do futebol. Não interessa se é muito importante ou pouco, mas alguém passou a ganhar, quando costumava </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108872121843645610/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108872121843645610' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108872121843645610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108872121843645610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/wat-is-dat.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF8000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Wat is dat ?&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108864887833021222</id><published>2004-07-01T03:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-07-01T23:11:10.030+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Van ...... quê ??????</title><summary type='text'>A equipa de Van's foi descascada esta noite, os queijos comidos e não se fala mais deles.Não sei dizer nada em Holandês, por isso aqui vai uma lembrança para a primeira noite da presidência europeia da holanda:Não levam a taça mas levam um Durão Barroso.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108864887833021222/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108864887833021222' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108864887833021222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108864887833021222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/07/van-qu.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Van ...... qu&amp;ecirc; ??????&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108816607377795841</id><published>2004-06-25T13:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T13:21:13.786+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Beckham is a jolly good fellow !</title><summary type='text'>Still looking for the ball that went straight up into orbit !</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108816607377795841/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108816607377795841' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108816607377795841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108816607377795841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/06/beckham-is-jolly-good-fellow.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;Beckham is a jolly good fellow !&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108803622725310531</id><published>2004-06-24T01:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T09:45:52.773+01:00</updated><title type='text'> Raros são os dias (XIV)</title><summary type='text'>LuandaRecusou o convite para passar para o banco do lado e tentou afastar o medo, com um grito, como daquela vez em que o professor de Ciências a esperou no pátio da escola e convidou para explicar em sua casa porque razão o sumo não cai das palhinhas quando seguramos uma das pontas com um dedo. Viu os olhos amarelos e o esgar trémulo de um lábio, como estava a ver agora, viu a mão do professor </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108803622725310531/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108803622725310531' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108803622725310531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108803622725310531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/06/raros-so-os-dias-xiv.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#008080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt; Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (XIV)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108739365660813817</id><published>2004-06-16T14:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-16T14:47:36.613+01:00</updated><title type='text'> Raros são os dias (XIII)</title><summary type='text'>LuandaNessa manhã saira de casa com uma pasta, condizendo com a sua fatiota saia e casaco vermelha e cinzenta, uma pasta preta com as iniciais TM&amp;A, apenas um café e torrada sem manteiga, iogurte bulgaro, algumas horas depois de um breve sono agitado de números e fantasmas de dossiers debaixo do braço, a agitação de uma descoberta fantástica, mais números, uma viagem a Chicago em perspectiva. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108739365660813817/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108739365660813817' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108739365660813817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108739365660813817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/06/raros-so-os-dias-xiii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#008080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt; Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (XIII)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108716949375562701</id><published>2004-06-14T00:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-14T00:31:33.760+01:00</updated><title type='text'> Raros são os dias (XII)</title><summary type='text'>Luanda7.30h - Ao olhar a janela, o mesmo susto de sempre: um soldado de "kala"ao ombro, passava revista ao pátio da escola. Ainda não se habituara ao cenário, mesmo visto do 7º andar do apartamento alugado, com muito mais espaço que a sua casa de sempre, na Maianga; ainda não se habituara á ideia de sofrer a ausência de Laura. Inoportunas as ideias do dia em que vira subir a rua um carro verde, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108716949375562701/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108716949375562701' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108716949375562701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108716949375562701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/06/raros-so-os-dias-xii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#008080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt; Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (XII)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108716864052434258</id><published>2004-06-14T00:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-14T00:17:20.530+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Durão e Scolari: os bandeirantes</title><summary type='text'>Estes homens não perceberam bem de onde vêm e para onde vão.Os portugueses com a sua antiga veia subserviente, amiga da força bruta e ditatorial, aplaudiram nos ultimos dias a força da palavra ilustrada com murro na mesa e seguiram a onda da bandeira. O seleccionador "nacional" disse e a esperança do povo pôs bandeiras nas casas e nos carros, sublimando o facto óbvio: a portuguesa equipa joga </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108716864052434258/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108716864052434258' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108716864052434258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108716864052434258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/06/duro-e-scolari-os-bandeirantes.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Dur&amp;atilde;o e Scolari: os bandeirantes&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108716562101440974</id><published>2004-06-13T23:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-13T23:27:01.020+01:00</updated><title type='text'> Raros são os dias (XI)</title><summary type='text'>Lisboa18.00h. Saiu para a chuva de Lisboa, olhou para trás, para a porta de onde poderia ele entrar daí a minutos, para a porta que poderiam abrir juntos, se não foram tantas dúvidas naquele átrio, que parecia de repente ser um fim de ilusões, parecia de repente intransponível, pesado como se de ferro se tratasse, como se uma ponte levadiça estivesse ali, ela fosse uma princesa aprisionada e o </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108716562101440974/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108716562101440974' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108716562101440974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108716562101440974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/06/raros-so-os-dias-xi.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#008080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt; Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (XI)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108673780905086721</id><published>2004-06-09T00:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-09T00:36:49.080+01:00</updated><title type='text'> Raros são os dias (X)</title><summary type='text'>LisboaUma depressão, se calhar depois ela tinha uma depressão, e ele tinha de voltar a vê-la, se não fosse aí seria talvez por acaso. O acaso que no desespero dos dias sem ninguem para falar o levara a mudar tudo para casa dela, depois de ver a praia, depois de ter bebido muito, depois de ter visto seres de mão dada, depois de ter desesperado das mulheres que o queriam e que ele desprezava. O </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108673780905086721/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108673780905086721' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108673780905086721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108673780905086721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/06/raros-so-os-dias-x.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#008080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt; Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (X)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108613363535979354</id><published>2004-06-02T00:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-02T00:47:15.410+01:00</updated><title type='text'> Raros são os dias (IX)</title><summary type='text'>17 h. Fez mais uma vez os 4 passos de distância entre o elevador a porta, acendeu mais um cigarro, olhou as caixas de correio, o átrio com uma planta enorme e uma secretária sem cadeira, olhou o átrio que poderia ser o da sua casa, seria? e saiu para a chuva. Afonso chegaria daí a pouco mas não a encontraria no 8º andar que não chegara a ver. Talvez chegasse no seu blazer azul escuro que repetia </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108613363535979354/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108613363535979354' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108613363535979354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108613363535979354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/06/raros-so-os-dias-ix.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#008080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt; Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (IX)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108595858462073302</id><published>2004-05-31T00:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-31T00:09:44.633+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Raros são os dias (VIII)</title><summary type='text'>Lisboa - LuandaMarcelo, sabia agora, não o amava, não sentira a emoção de querer alguém, como se a voz dele não tocasse a imaginação, como se os dedos dele não tocassem os seus cabelos negros, como se o seu corpo não a fizesse arrepiar e estremecer e desejar sempre mais, como se fosse impossível separar-se de um ser a quem se deu a intimidade das lágrimas misturadas com a raiva do acaso </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108595858462073302/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108595858462073302' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108595858462073302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108595858462073302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/raros-so-os-dias-viii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#408080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (VIII)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108595782383608241</id><published>2004-05-30T23:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-30T23:57:03.843+01:00</updated><title type='text'>There's a ribbon in the sky</title><summary type='text'>Lisboa- Terreiro do Paço ---&gt; Algés ----&gt; Lisboa- R. do CrucifixoEste passeio é feito a correr, entre nuvens de calor, entre 900 pessoas e entre muitas bátegas de calor húmido, com o sol a perguntar porquê. Não sei porquê este desafio que se repete em muitas outras corridas loucas em que a camisola se inunda com a água misturada. percorro a 24 de julho e vejo os que saiem da K com cigarro na mão </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108595782383608241/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108595782383608241' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108595782383608241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108595782383608241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/theres-ribbon-in-sky.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;There&apos;s a ribbon in the sky&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108570049436693636</id><published>2004-05-28T00:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-28T00:28:14.376+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Raros são os dias (VII)</title><summary type='text'>Lisboa Durou dois meses e tal esta expectativa de alma, uma viagem a Luanda não esmoreceu, nem quando Marcelo a olhou como sempre fazia com o sorriso mais bonito do mundo, como se soubesse pôr a alma dela outra vez no lugar certo. Nem mesmo quando pensou que a casa da Maianga era o melhor lugar para respirar, para tirar da pilha dos livros que têm de ser lidos, um, aquele que fala deles, aquele </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108570049436693636/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108570049436693636' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108570049436693636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108570049436693636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/raros-so-os-dias-vii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#408080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (VII)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108569880228142873</id><published>2004-05-28T00:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-28T00:00:02.286+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tristar - para lá</title><summary type='text'>Quando estava farto de estar sentado, caminhava até ao sorriso antipático das semi-tias da TAP e encontrava na fila da frente este postal. Neste avião comecei as viagens entre continentes, e aqui começa a história das viagens de África.Começavam entre filas de gente, horas de espera, embrulhos em montes infindáveis. Depois, dada a angústia de partir "para lá", sentava-me nas cadeiras amarelas e </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108569880228142873/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108569880228142873' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108569880228142873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108569880228142873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/tristar-para-l.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Tristar - para l&amp;aacute;&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108544233715087224</id><published>2004-05-25T00:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T00:45:37.160+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Raros são os dias (VI)</title><summary type='text'> Lisboa16h. Olhou de novo a lista. Tinha a certeza que estava tudo, mas parecia que algo devia estar e não estava. Não, eram coisas da superstição, dia de chuva, dia de cabelos difíceis, dia de correr tudo mal, dia de ver o espelho de soslaio, para não ficar mais acesa a luta com a imagem. Levantou.se para sair nas laranjeiras, com o metro quase vazio, seria mesmo ali? O anúncio dizia Metro: </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108544233715087224/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108544233715087224' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108544233715087224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108544233715087224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/raros-so-os-dias-vi.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#408080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (VI)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108544157269244064</id><published>2004-05-25T00:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-31T20:27:36.166+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Since that moment of bliss</title><summary type='text'>Nesse momento todos foram calmamente saindo da varanda, com um sorriso, como se fossem fantasmas que sempre estiveram habituados a flutuar por entre aqueles para quem as formas das coisas vão sendo diluidas em fluidos estranhos e sem corpo.What a difference a day makes. And the difference is you(Para a P., para sempre)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108544157269244064/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108544157269244064' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108544157269244064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108544157269244064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/since-that-moment-of-bliss.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Since that moment of bliss&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108533727062060511</id><published>2004-05-23T19:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-23T19:40:07.700+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The young martyr - Rachel Corrie</title><summary type='text'>You who sleep for ever In your cold shroudShall the disgrace fall on Your holy misfortuneWhich sentences for its crimeYour suicided spiritAnd puts on its faceAn accusing appearancePaul Delaroche - La jeune martyre(Rachel Corrie morreu esmagada por um bulldozer do Exercito Israelita, em Rafah, Faixa de Gaza, 16 de  Março)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108533727062060511/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108533727062060511' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108533727062060511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108533727062060511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/young-martyr-rachel-corrie.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800000&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;The young martyr - Rachel Corrie&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108533587302659305</id><published>2004-05-23T19:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-23T19:36:01.516+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Heads will roll</title><summary type='text'>Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit - said the nine day Queen (Paul Delaroche, 1797-1856 - The execution of Lady Jane Grey]</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108533587302659305/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108533587302659305' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108533587302659305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108533587302659305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/heads-will-roll.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Heads will roll&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108524752569389941</id><published>2004-05-22T18:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-22T18:38:45.700+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Congresso do PSD</title><summary type='text'>Dos vários temas quentes abordados pelos congressistas, fica aqui um contributo para um dos quentes e sem dúvida abordáveis, o discurso da tanga ou das tangas: A extraordinária moda do triângulo da tanga vem sendo revelada em público, e é preciso andar o país muito distraido para não ver as consequências apocalípticas que terá o aumento do défice entre o tecido interior e o exterior.A manuela </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108524752569389941/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108524752569389941' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108524752569389941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108524752569389941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/congresso-do-psd.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Congresso do PSD&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108524384512670839</id><published>2004-05-22T17:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-22T17:37:25.133+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy Jazz: young &amp; vets</title><summary type='text'>Com este MICHEL BUBLÉ passam-se horas agradáveis no trânsito de Lisboa;é como beber um champagne antes de um jantar. Porque canta muitas coisas à la Sinatra, como  "the way you look tonight" (se eu fosse capaz de cantar dedicava-a a L.)Com JAMIE CULLUM o tom é mais jazzy-pop (seja lá o que isto fôr...)ouvem-se, entre outras coisas agradáveis, clássicos como "blame it on my youth" e "what a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108524384512670839/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108524384512670839' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108524384512670839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108524384512670839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/easy-jazz-young-vets.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Easy Jazz: young &amp; vets&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108521749715874940</id><published>2004-05-22T10:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-22T10:18:17.216+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Raros são os dias (V)</title><summary type='text'>Paris19h. Lembrava-se disto enquanto olhava a Torre iluminada, e falava baixinho, achava um certo direito de falar para ela enquanto sofria de frio, por ela. Sempre com a gola levantada subiu as escadas e entrou num bar onde os empregados empertigados, lembrando que estamos em Paris, se atarefavam em mil coisas, menos olhar para três gatos pingados que beberricavam coisas desconhecidas para ele, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108521749715874940/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108521749715874940' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108521749715874940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108521749715874940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/raros-so-os-dias-v.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#408080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (V)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108487725991382428</id><published>2004-05-18T11:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-18T12:13:26.726+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Raros são os dias (IV)</title><summary type='text'>Paris18h Olhou durante muito tempo, viu partir muitos turistas, viu chegar muitos ainda, um circulo vicioso, uma pena que aquele ferro tinha de expiar, sempre invadido por gente, mas devolvendo altivo uma resposta nula aos porquês de todo o mundo querer Paris. A Noite acabou por apanhá-lo ali a tremer de frio, a estudar turistas, a engolir angustias sobre o tempo que não o deixaria ficar ali. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108487725991382428/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108487725991382428' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108487725991382428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108487725991382428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/raros-so-os-dias-iv.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#408080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Raros são os dias (IV)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108440012283867511</id><published>2004-05-12T23:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-12T23:15:22.843+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Raros são os dias (III)</title><summary type='text'>Paris16h Com estas ideias não acabou a sanduíche, pagou, pegou no sobretudo azul e saiu, de novo com angustias desnecessárias, estava a estragar aquele tempo tão livre outra vez com a obsessiva história do filme! Raios!Veio de novo para o frio, andou depressa no sentido da Torre, e passou o Sena na ponte Alexander, onde as estátuas de bronze douradas ainda reflectiam um pouco de sol que restava a</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108440012283867511/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108440012283867511' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108440012283867511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108440012283867511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/raros-so-os-dias-iii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#408080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (III)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108417123364045680</id><published>2004-05-10T07:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-10T07:44:55.180+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Like my dress</title><summary type='text'>o tecido do meu vestido é suave e ondula, o olhar vê o que parecia ter esquecido. viu os meus cabelos longos e pareceu não ligar, como só ele sabe fazer.a segunda vez que olhou pareceu-lhe que era um vestido antigo, como se ele o tivesse comprado, me tivesse oferecido e eu o tivesse guardado num guarda fato, e fosse agora tirá-lo para ele ver; só podia admitir vestir este vestido para o seu </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108417123364045680/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108417123364045680' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108417123364045680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108417123364045680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/like-my-dress.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Like my dress&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108413843265889659</id><published>2004-05-09T22:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-09T22:42:54.450+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Raros são os dias (II)</title><summary type='text'>Paris15h. Arranjou maneira de sair airosamente do congresso (afinal, pensou, os congressos são para isso mesmo, para se sair airosamente, quando se fala, e igualmente quando não se fala, saindo dali). Puxou a gola do sobretudo azul para cima, como era hábito, parecia-lhe sempre melhor, um certo ar descontraído a juntar á roupa de boas marcas que não dispensava. Achava-se sempre melhor quando </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108413843265889659/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108413843265889659' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108413843265889659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108413843265889659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/raros-so-os-dias-ii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#408080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (II)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108401239410431741</id><published>2004-05-08T11:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-08T11:36:28.780+01:00</updated><title type='text'>If you'd be my bodyguard</title><summary type='text'>..then I wouldn't be your long lost pal, anymore</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108401239410431741/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108401239410431741' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108401239410431741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108401239410431741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/if-youd-be-my-bodyguard.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800000&quot;&gt;If you&apos;d be my bodyguard&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108400501020396158</id><published>2004-05-08T09:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-08T09:33:24.840+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Raros são os dias (I)</title><summary type='text'>Passeio do TejoSilencio. Pode ser um ser que se aproxima em silencio, ou o silencio desta casa, onde as notas de chuva consolam meias plantas sobreviventes de um Verão. Um Verão com silêncios, toalhas sobre a mesa na varanda, sumos de laranja. Silêncio, como o medo. Vindo de um profundo vazio estou com medo. Cada ano passa menos gente por aqui, cada ano passa alguém que não quer passar para outro</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108400501020396158/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108400501020396158' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108400501020396158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108400501020396158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/raros-so-os-dias-i.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#408080&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Raros s&amp;atilde;o os dias (I)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108362340679873756</id><published>2004-05-03T23:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-03T23:33:02.013+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Laura</title><summary type='text'>but she's only a dream</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108362340679873756/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108362340679873756' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108362340679873756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108362340679873756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/laura.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Laura&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108350211158719482</id><published>2004-05-02T13:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-02T13:51:40.140+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What a difference a day made</title><summary type='text'>De repente, o resumo de tudo é uma chaveA chave de uma porta que não abrepara o interior desabitadono solo que inexiste, mas a chave existe(Drummond de Andrade - Corpo)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108350211158719482/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108350211158719482' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108350211158719482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108350211158719482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/what-difference-day-made.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;What a difference a day made&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108349843974513704</id><published>2004-05-02T12:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-02T12:50:28.293+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mãe</title><summary type='text'>Mãe que há muito partiu e que me visita em sonhos, perguntando por mimcomo estás? diz ela, por vezes aparecendo numa imagem muito jovem, outras num ser difuso e angustiado. Deus por não existir "em meu nada recolhe minhas queixas"Pela dor, "sofro á tua espreita inexistente Deus.Pois se viveras existiria eu também deveras"(excertos entre aspas da Oração do Ateu, de Miguel Unamuno)Só Deus(Francisco</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108349843974513704/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108349843974513704' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108349843974513704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108349843974513704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/me.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;M&amp;atilde;e&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108346071168617889</id><published>2004-05-02T02:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-02T13:18:44.123+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Estatisticamente espectacular</title><summary type='text'>Dir-se-ia um acaso ou uma coincidência, acusar-se-ia o tempo, a curva do rio, o vento forte que fez parar debaixo de um toldo. Dir-se-ia uma vontade inconsciente, vinda de onde ? para quê ?, ou talvez se falasse de um destino ou mesmo de algo escrito para ser assim. E a partir desse momento que não tem nome, porque se convencionou chamar estas coisas todas ao que não se sabe ou sequer suspeita de</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108346071168617889/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108346071168617889' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108346071168617889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108346071168617889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/05/estatisticamente-espectacular.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Estatisticamente espectacular&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108290485008334083</id><published>2004-04-25T15:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-25T15:57:11.670+01:00</updated><title type='text'>25 de Abril - a arte e o amor</title><summary type='text'>Este 25 de Abril devia recordar-me coisas, pensadas ou vividas lá bem para trás.O pasmo de há 30 anos, a alegria de há 30 anos, o poço de onde saíam almas que outras tentaram liquefazerO despertar para as emoções de amores e desamores, paisagens e países, ódios e mortes em volta,Despertares políticos, ansiedades, gritos de revolta, cabelos compridos, os Gentle Giant, os Génesis, escrita de </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108290485008334083/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108290485008334083' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108290485008334083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108290485008334083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/25-de-abril-arte-e-o-amor.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;25 de Abril - a arte e o amor&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108280094413285445</id><published>2004-04-24T11:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-24T11:11:17.903+01:00</updated><title type='text'>1974 - Até 25 de Abril (VI)</title><summary type='text'>Antes de tudo mudar o Rossio esteve sem ninguém durante algumas horas. Só os pombos admirados, porque os espíritos revoltados esperariam ainda algum tempo.Passei eu apenas de mão dada com o meu pai.Seriam alguns minutos ou meses antes do dia 25?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108280094413285445/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108280094413285445' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108280094413285445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108280094413285445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/1974-at-25-de-abril-vi.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;1974 - At&amp;eacute; 25 de Abril (VI)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108267405576410491</id><published>2004-04-22T23:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T23:50:34.936+01:00</updated><title type='text'> Never can say goodbye</title><summary type='text'>Never can say goodbyeNo, INever can say goodbyeEven though the pain and heartacheSeems to follow me wherever I goThough I try and try to hide my feelingsThey always seem to showThen I try to say I´m leaving youAnd I always have to say no...Tell me whyIs it soThat INever can say goodbyeNo , INever can say goodbyeEverytime I think I’ve had enoughI start heading for the doorThere’s a very strange </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108267405576410491/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108267405576410491' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108267405576410491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108267405576410491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/never-can-say-goodbye.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt; Never can say goodbye&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108258608004653838</id><published>2004-04-21T23:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T23:24:18.373+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of the Blue</title><summary type='text'>Some walk the nightSome fly by day</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108258608004653838/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108258608004653838' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108258608004653838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108258608004653838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/out-of-blue.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#0000A0&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Out of the Blue&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108258291727472208</id><published>2004-04-21T22:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T23:14:30.996+01:00</updated><title type='text'>1974 - Até 25 de Abril (V)</title><summary type='text'>Março - 74- Autorizado o cartão de Crédito Unibanco. Vantagens e desvantagens da introdução do cartão de crédito em Portugal (Expresso)- Tempo Económico, é posto hoje á venda o numero 3 . Director: Leonardo Ferraz de Carvalho. Sumário: (...)  - "Portugal e o Futuro" de António de Spinola (Expresso)-  John Lennon  envolve-se à bulha com um fotógrafo no Troubador club em  Los AngelesCinema - </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108258291727472208/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108258291727472208' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108258291727472208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108258291727472208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/1974-at-25-de-abril-v.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;1974 - At&amp;eacute; 25 de Abril (V)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108245657174687049</id><published>2004-04-20T11:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-20T11:29:02.716+01:00</updated><title type='text'>1974 - Até 25 de Abril (IV)</title><summary type='text'>No início de Abril de 1974, fui passar uns dias na Páscoa com os meus tios. Lembro-me de ter visto lá um senhor careca com ar de militar, amigo de infância da minha tia.Uns dias mais tarde, na noite do 25 de Abril, ao fim de um dia movimentado (mas caseiro, a proibição de sair mantinha-se !) lembro-me de ter olhado para a televisão e exclamar para a minha mãe:- Mãe, aquele senhor careca é </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108245657174687049/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108245657174687049' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108245657174687049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108245657174687049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/1974-at-25-de-abril-iv.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;1974 - Até 25 de Abril (IV)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108241456815997564</id><published>2004-04-19T23:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T23:47:32.436+01:00</updated><title type='text'>1974 - Até 25 de Abril (III)</title><summary type='text'>Fevereiro - 74- Justiça e Política, foi o título do colóquio realizado na Ordem dos Advogados, introduzido pelo antigo deputado Dr. Francisco Sá Carneiro (Expresso)- Veiga Simão, Ministro da Educação, em viagem a Inglaterra encontra-se hoje com Margaret Thatcher, secretário de estado da educação do governo de sua majestade (Expresso)- Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said  novela de Philip K. Dick na</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108241456815997564/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108241456815997564' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108241456815997564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108241456815997564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/1974-at-25-de-abril-iii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;1974 - At&amp;eacute; 25 de Abril (III)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108237811088820527</id><published>2004-04-19T13:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T14:27:09.996+01:00</updated><title type='text'>E onde estavas tu no 25 de Abril de 74?</title><summary type='text'>Quem quer pôr aqui, quem tem coragem ?  Onde estava, onde ?E quem não era nascido também pode responder : onde gostaria de ter estado no 25 de Abril de 74?__________________________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108237811088820527/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108237811088820527' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108237811088820527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108237811088820527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/e-onde-estavas-tu-no-25-de-abril-de-74.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;E onde estavas tu no 25 de Abril de 74?&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108232912751143502</id><published>2004-04-18T23:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T00:23:20.200+01:00</updated><title type='text'>1974 - Até 25 de Abril (II)</title><summary type='text'>Fevereiro - 74- Costa Gomes e António de Spínola demitidos dos cargos de chefe e vice-chefe das Forças Armadas- Deus manda combater, não manda vencer, afirma Marcello Caetano na tomada de posse a 15 de Março de novos membros do Governo- Após 84 dias no espaço, a tripulação do SKYLAB regressa à terra- Nasce Robbie Williams, o cantor (take that...)- Cinema 1974  Front page Cast: Jack Lemmon, Walter</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108232912751143502/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108232912751143502' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108232912751143502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108232912751143502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/1974-at-25-de-abril-ii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;1974 - At&amp;eacute; 25 de Abril (II)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108220783917821501</id><published>2004-04-17T14:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-17T14:37:05.576+01:00</updated><title type='text'>1974 - Até 25 de Abril (I)</title><summary type='text'>Janeiro - 74- Saldanha Sanches aguarda julgamento . Está sob prisão o estudante de Direito, detido quando transportava uma pasta de grandes dimensões. Maria José Morgado foi também detida com acusação idêntica (Expresso)- Crise Académica na Universidade de Lisboa: Instituto Superior de Economia fechado. Cantina da Cidade Universitária abre só depois das férias do Natal (Expresso)- Embargo </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108220783917821501/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108220783917821501' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108220783917821501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108220783917821501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/1974-at-25-de-abril-i.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#800040&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;1974 - At&amp;eacute; 25 de Abril (I)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108213479084483590</id><published>2004-04-16T17:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-16T18:05:18.860+01:00</updated><title type='text'>mobile, imobile, mobile, imobile</title><summary type='text'>O meu telemóvel andou intrigado toda a tarde, andou calado, cabisbaixo e triste. Não havia ondas, não havia  feixes, não apitou, não tocou, não vibrou, não emocionou, não entristeceu, não ficou eufórico por saber que outro, que ele suspeita tão assexuado como ele, mas com tendência para feminino (um Nokia, uma Nokia, nunca lhe soaram bem) lhe liga de vez em quando (Ligado a si, diz a publicidade.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108213479084483590/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108213479084483590' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108213479084483590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108213479084483590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/mobile-imobile-mobile-imobile.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;mobile, imobile, mobile, imobile&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108189896826476255</id><published>2004-04-14T00:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-16T18:33:17.700+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Something cool</title><summary type='text'>Vejo umas mãos que deslizam pela parede, como se fugissem, ou procurassem, ou ainda tentassem agarrar qualquer coisa.Vejo cores azuis a misturarem-se com amarelos; ela fez um charro mais e passou-mo; agora somos dois e não sabemos o que fazer da vida. Os anos 80 estão a acabar, e é preciso decidir: eu pego no carro, vermelho, descapotável, o meu 2Cv, o meu Ferrari, como eu lhe chamo. Ela põe o </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108189896826476255/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108189896826476255' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108189896826476255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108189896826476255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/something-cool.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Something cool&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108146163495495035</id><published>2004-04-08T23:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-08T23:03:20.496+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Absolut Blue</title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108146163495495035/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108146163495495035' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108146163495495035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108146163495495035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/absolut-blue.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#0080FF&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Absolut Blue&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108143719604507622</id><published>2004-04-08T16:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-08T16:16:01.186+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mistérios de Páscoa</title><summary type='text'>Explicação ilustrada para a existência dos Ovos de Páscoa. Não admira que depois o coelho os vá esconder...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108143719604507622/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108143719604507622' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108143719604507622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108143719604507622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/mistscoa.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Mist&amp;eacute;rios de P&amp;aacute;scoa&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108143674551898121</id><published>2004-04-08T16:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-08T16:12:35.296+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Os mortos talentosos</title><summary type='text'>O segredo de viver com um minimo de sofrimento na voragem do mundo reside em atrair o maior numero de pessoas para as nossas ilusões; o truque para viver sozinho (...) afastado sobretudo da propria intensidade, consiste em organizar o silêncio, o silencio circundante como a fonte de proveito que escolhemos e a nossa unica coisa íntima.O truque consiste em encontrar sustento em pessoas (...), na </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108143674551898121/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108143674551898121' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108143674551898121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108143674551898121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/os-mortos-talentosos.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Os mortos talentosos&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108126468705015622</id><published>2004-04-06T16:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-06T16:20:50.123+01:00</updated><title type='text'>AntiQuize</title><summary type='text'>Resposta ao Quize da Brigada Anti-Lacoste 115 - Um coleccionador de selos é um filatelista, um coleccionador de moedas é um numismata. E um coleccionador de caixas de fósforos, como se designa ?Caixafosforita116 - Só há dois estados não-membros das Nações Unidas. Quais?Víúvo e Divorciado117 - Que acidente teve Michael Jackson durante a gravação de um anúncio em 1984?Caiu-lhe a pele do</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108126468705015622/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108126468705015622' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108126468705015622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108126468705015622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/antiquize.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#0000FF&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;AntiQuize&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108120540747997409</id><published>2004-04-05T23:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-05T23:52:49.373+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Whatever was necessary</title><summary type='text'> Body heatNos olhos e nas narinas dilatadas miss Turner mostrou em 1981 como se falava de sexo com muito calor, com muito suor e como as traições de um homem são mesmo pequenas, contemplando com o mesmo calor a traição de um olhar.olha-me e diz-me porque não tens nada do que queres, e porque farias tudo para ter tudo; como sacrificarias tudo para ter tudo.olhas-me, pões em mim esses olhos verdes </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108120540747997409/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108120540747997409' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108120540747997409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108120540747997409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/whatever-was-necessary.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#0000FF&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Whatever was necessary&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108101244973820812</id><published>2004-04-03T18:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-03T18:18:48.390+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Kind of Blue</title><summary type='text'>Por todas as razões que se queiram inventar, deve ouvir-se Miles Davis em Kind of Blue.Se fizesse sentido falar em "melhor disco de jazz de sempre" era este o candidato.Tem ColtraneTem "So What" e "Blue in Green" e "All Blues" e "Flamenco Sketches"Mas não faz. Mas quase..." border="0"&gt;</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108101244973820812/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108101244973820812' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108101244973820812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108101244973820812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/kind-of-blue.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#0000FF&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Kind of Blue&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108085764026811553</id><published>2004-04-01T23:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-01T23:19:14.390+01:00</updated><title type='text'>More lies</title><summary type='text'>No PÚBLICO de hoje afinal  também há dia das mentiras:"Testemunha de Acusação do Processo Casa Pia admite ter mentido"</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108085764026811553/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108085764026811553' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108085764026811553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108085764026811553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/more-lies.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;More lies&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108085594106280942</id><published>2004-04-01T22:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-01T22:48:18.920+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lies</title><summary type='text'>Já desesperava de ouvir uma mentirola banal que fosse neste 1 de Abril.mas felizmente vi o jornal da 2:Um filósofo (?) Mr Gil, Fernando Gil, afirmava sem se rir que da legitimidade da invasão do Iraque nada sabia, apenas que houvera uma suspensão do Direito Internacional, dado a França e a Alemanha terem afirmado que não aceitariam qualquer resolução legitimando a guerra no Iraque.Carlos Fino </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108085594106280942/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108085594106280942' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108085594106280942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108085594106280942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/04/lies.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Lies&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108051696325036862</id><published>2004-03-29T00:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-03-29T00:41:40.263+01:00</updated><title type='text'>La chemise LACOSTE</title><summary type='text'>Executiva da empresa LA CHEMISE LACOSTE reflectindo sobre a única camisa lacoste que vale a pena usar.Os crocodilos estão cansados de se verem representar por uma marca cara, feia e completamente ultrapassadaHoje, somos todos da brigada ANTI-LACOSTE !</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108051696325036862/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108051696325036862' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108051696325036862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108051696325036862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/la-chemise-lacoste.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#00FF00&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;La chemise LACOSTE&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108048668149848742</id><published>2004-03-28T16:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-03-28T16:16:31.966+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Administrar a tristeza</title><summary type='text'> Feliz aquele que administra sabiamentea tristeza e aprende a reparti-la pelos diasPodem passar os meses e os anos nunca lhe faltaráOh! como é triste envelhecer à portaentretecer nas mãos um coração tardioOh! como é triste arriscar em humanos regressoso equilíbrio azul das extremas manhãs do verãoao longo do mar transbordante de nósno demorado adeus da nossa condiçãoÉ triste no jardim a solidão </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108048668149848742/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108048668149848742' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108048668149848742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108048668149848742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/administrar-tristeza.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Administrar a tristeza&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108048487115588346</id><published>2004-03-28T15:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-03-28T15:50:20.950+01:00</updated><title type='text'>they say my verse</title><summary type='text'>Dizem: meu verso é triste: não admiraAbarca a estreita medidatristes lágrimas de iraNão minhas, da vida.Isto se escreve para os não-nascidos,gerados em vão,lerem quando se virem consumidosE eu nãoAlfred Edward HousmanInglaterra 1859-1936Jorge de Sena (Poesia do Sec XX - ASA)("Novela", de Almada Negreiros)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108048487115588346/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108048487115588346' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108048487115588346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108048487115588346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/they-say-my-verse.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;they say my verse&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108025736031706968</id><published>2004-03-25T23:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-25T23:31:51.483Z</updated><title type='text'>Contra a corrente</title><summary type='text'>Blogs que eu gosto:Críticoum blog que exalta a musica, com um fel e um (des)gosto, uma vontade de atirar pedras, contrastante com a suavidade da música. Um excelente contributo para não ouvir nada.Exalta Charpentier, Bach e Marais cuspindo fogo. Ouvir o que recomenda, não ler nada do que escreve.Um absoluto tiro no pé.Barnabé um blog aberto à discussão; mas ai de quem discorde, leva logo fogo à </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108025736031706968/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108025736031706968' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108025736031706968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108025736031706968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/contra-corrente.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;Contra a corrente&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-108008592191521618</id><published>2004-03-23T23:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-23T23:54:30.793Z</updated><title type='text'>Mood elevator</title><summary type='text'>A expressão é roubada (o que como se sabe é legitimado pelos estatutos deste blog), e significa: o que te faz pôr a disposição em alta? o que te faz ficar a olhar outra vez, em vez de baixar os olhos. Ou ainda, o que te faz sorrir de manhã e levemente sair de casa, sem qualquer razão para sorrir que não a noite sonhada ?Pode ser : ontem, ou na semana passada, ou há muitos anos, pode ser. Não há </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/108008592191521618/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=108008592191521618' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108008592191521618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/108008592191521618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/mood-elevator.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Mood elevator&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107988678653014277</id><published>2004-03-21T16:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-21T16:37:01.686Z</updated><title type='text'>Breakfast at Tiffany's</title><summary type='text'>São horas de descer a avenida, parar para ver as montras, olhar o azul da seda que ampara as jóias. Mais abaixo, entraremos numa sala de chá. encomendaremos cookies quentes com manteiga, chá verde do japão.São horas de olhar para alguém, que fale e que não tenha cara de televisão, olhos de letras de livros, cabeça de ecran de computador, que sorria.Alguem que pode ansiar por fazer falta a alguem.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107988678653014277/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107988678653014277' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107988678653014277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107988678653014277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/breakfast-at-tiffanys.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Breakfast at Tiffany&apos;s&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107983007670261716</id><published>2004-03-21T00:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-21T00:50:22.856Z</updated><title type='text'>Postalzito: Los niños como yo</title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107983007670261716/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107983007670261716' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107983007670261716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107983007670261716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/postalzito-los-nios-como-yo.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Postalzito: Los ni&amp;ntilde;os como yo&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107982924102187614</id><published>2004-03-21T00:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-21T00:57:25.483Z</updated><title type='text'>On the Sonny side of the street</title><summary type='text'>Sonny Rollins (1930-)Close(r) to U</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107982924102187614/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107982924102187614' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107982924102187614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107982924102187614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/on-sonny-side-of-street.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;On the Sonny side of the street&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107947802316493431</id><published>2004-03-16T23:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-19T06:59:47.496Z</updated><title type='text'>I need not go</title><summary type='text'> Não venham ralhar-mepor meu demorar-mee nem perguntar-meporque me fiqueiCuidados me chamamamores me inflamamela é dos que não clamam:atura-me, eu seiThomas Hardy (1840-1928)Jorge de SenaPoesia do Séc.XX - ASA</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107947802316493431/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107947802316493431' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107947802316493431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107947802316493431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/i-need-not-go.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;I need not go&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107947677849894805</id><published>2004-03-16T22:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-19T06:56:37.903Z</updated><title type='text'>Como será ?</title><summary type='text'>"Passei a noite acordado, a pensar na minha morte."( Rubem Fonseca )Não interessa o que fazem escritores durante a vida, mas sim como morreram, como os deixou a glória ? e quando ?Anacreonte, engasgado com um bago de uva, 90 anosChristopher Marlowe, assassinado numa luta de taberna, 29 Pushkin, em duelo, 32Thackeray, comilão, após um lauto jantar, 52Edgar Allan Poe, delirium tremens, caido numa </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107947677849894805/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107947677849894805' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107947677849894805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107947677849894805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/como-ser.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Como ser&amp;aacute; ?&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107905081146899170</id><published>2004-03-12T00:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-12T00:22:28.826Z</updated><title type='text'>Tremendo Barroso ! Aznar nosso!</title><summary type='text'>Quero deixar o meu agradecimento público a Durão, e que retransmita a Aznar a minha consideração, pela forma digna e patriótica como agiram em relação ao Iraque e aos EUA !O resultado começa a ver-se.Eu se fosse espanhol desconfiava da pressa com que Aznar veio falar da ETA.  É que se não tiver sido a ETA ...E quem é o candidato mais próximo, com o Euro2004 á vista ?Obrigado ao sr. Barroso por me</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107905081146899170/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107905081146899170' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107905081146899170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107905081146899170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/tremendo-barroso-aznar-nosso.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#000000&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;Tremendo Barroso ! Aznar nosso!&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107904958373261598</id><published>2004-03-11T23:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-12T00:02:00.530Z</updated><title type='text'>Ah Madrid!</title><summary type='text'>Voltarei sempre, cada vez mais, o teu sangue não me vai assustar, vai-me alertar.vou-te ver mais e mais,passearei nas tuas ruas mais e mais</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107904958373261598/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107904958373261598' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107904958373261598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107904958373261598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/ah-madrid.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#000000&quot; size=&quot;6&quot;&gt;Ah Madrid!&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107887532255092863</id><published>2004-03-09T23:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-09T23:40:01.140Z</updated><title type='text'>Stormy Weather</title><summary type='text'>A Minha FelicidadeDepois que me cansei de procurarA descobrir aprendiDepois que o vento me foi contrárioNavego com todo o ventoFriedrich Nietzsche1844-1900Jorge de Sena (Poesia de 26 Séc - ASA)Fred Varley: 'Stormy Weather, Georgian Bay' (1921)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107887532255092863/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107887532255092863' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107887532255092863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107887532255092863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/stormy-weather.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Stormy Weather&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107876917460586751</id><published>2004-03-08T18:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-08T18:09:25.140Z</updated><title type='text'>Now is the Hour</title><summary type='text'>Entre estas imagens há um abismo: de um lado o apelo que vulgariza as mulheres e ainda faz com sejam necessários Dias da Mulher, e revistas de mulheres e lojas para mulheres e cartões para mulheres e chás para mulheres e etc....Do outro lado, a mulher refugiada, do seu país e de si, de onde ela foi mulher, de onde foi pessoa. Aqui se joga o mundo das diferenças que é também o das diferenças </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107876917460586751/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107876917460586751' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107876917460586751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107876917460586751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/now-is-hour.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Now is the Hour&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107859627809102358</id><published>2004-03-06T18:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-06T18:08:22.780Z</updated><title type='text'>Body Talk</title><summary type='text'>COISAS DO CORPOPor duas vezes hoje, um suspiroNão! uma inspiração trémula, ou outro não! ainda, umas lágrimas inexplicáveisàquela hora de uma manhã qualquer, por acaso já inundada pelo designado milénio.Este milénio que já é o milénioque conta as histórias de algumas vidas,já se afirma arrogante por dentrode coisas feitas nós, a falar para as palavrasnós já apalavrados no milénio acabado e mal </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107859627809102358/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107859627809102358' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107859627809102358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107859627809102358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/body-talk.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Body Talk&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107858309138694293</id><published>2004-03-06T14:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-06T17:28:53.826Z</updated><title type='text'>I sing the body electric</title><summary type='text'> 5 (...)Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest, and is the     exit of the rest,You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.The female contains all qualities and tempers them,She is in her place and moves with perfect balance,She is all things duly veil'd, she is both passive and active,She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as     </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107858309138694293/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107858309138694293' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107858309138694293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107858309138694293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/i-sing-body-electric.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;I sing the body electric&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107858121538733424</id><published>2004-03-06T13:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-06T13:58:40.046Z</updated><title type='text'>Body and Soul</title><summary type='text'>Ninguem quer castigar o seu próprio corpoe se o fizer, se tiver de o fazer, deixa indeléveis marcas na alma Então porque se insiste em que há quem o faça por leviandade e porque se quer punir quem o faz ?Porque para os moralistas não chega o castigo do corpo, quer-se punir também a alma, para a agarrar à culpa.E assim perpetuar as trevas.(a propósito do post do meu amigo Manel  , e de um clássico</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107858121538733424/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107858121538733424' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107858121538733424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107858121538733424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/body-and-soul.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Body and Soul&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107852722206754777</id><published>2004-03-05T22:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-05T22:55:52.903Z</updated><title type='text'>O homem que outrora fui</title><summary type='text'>O homem que outrora fui, o mesmo ainda serei:leviano, ardente. Em vão, amigos meus, eu sei,de mim se espere que eu possa contemplar o belosem um tremor secreto, um ansioso anelo.O amor não me traiu ou torturou bastante ?Nas citereias redes qual falcão aflantenão me debati já, tantas vezes cativo?Relapso, porém, a tudo sobrevivo,e à nova estátua trago a antiga oferenda...PushkinRússia, 1799-</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107852722206754777/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107852722206754777' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107852722206754777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107852722206754777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/o-homem-que-outrora-fui.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;O homem que outrora fui&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107823771751172595</id><published>2004-03-02T14:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-02T14:30:45.436Z</updated><title type='text'>Crítico, muito crítico, muito critica</title><summary type='text'>os ultimos dois posts eram sobre os oscars. Parecia que eram os dois, excepto um. Mas não, eram os dois.porém, muita vaca sagrada que não põe comments com medo de alguma doença pegajosa, e muito menos opina sobre qualquer coisa, apressou-se a criticar (!) o automóvel, apelidando-me de vaidoso, epíteto que aceito com prazer, e oportunista ( o  que já não posso aceitar, lamento).já aqui tinha </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107823771751172595/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107823771751172595' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107823771751172595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107823771751172595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/crtico-muito-critica.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Cr&amp;iacute;tico, muito cr&amp;iacute;tico, muito critica&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107818271739088997</id><published>2004-03-01T23:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-01T23:21:24.950Z</updated><title type='text'>O senhor dos anéis</title><summary type='text'>Ok, o sitemeter já não andava famoso, mas com este vai ainda mais pra baixo ...Não vou subir a nenhuma montanha nem deitar nenhum destes aneis para o fogoOutros títulos para este post:Bomba InteligenteA natureza do MalA Origem do AmorCausa NossaEssencial ou AcessorioFlor de ObsessãoPaís Relativo</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107818271739088997/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107818271739088997' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107818271739088997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107818271739088997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/03/o-senhor-dos-anis.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;O senhor dos an&amp;eacute;is&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107807167116908246</id><published>2004-02-29T16:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-29T16:36:46.610Z</updated><title type='text'>ÚLTIMA HORA !Não houve atentados ...ao pudor</title><summary type='text'>Com o delay púdico dos americanos, que agora não transmitem nada em directo (não vá saltar alguma mamoca de alguma dama com os apêndices mais folgados), foi possível roubar o resultado JÁ de algumas categorias nomeadas:Melhor Actriz: Naomi WATTSinesquecível em Mulholland Drive e the Ring, ganhou com 21 gr.aqui a passear com oMelhor Actor : Sean PENNnão por este filme mas </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107807167116908246/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107807167116908246' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107807167116908246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107807167116908246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/ltima-hora-no-houve-atentados-ao-pudor.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;ÚLTIMA HORA !Não houve atentados ...ao pudor&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107801582914980769</id><published>2004-02-29T00:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-29T01:01:58.826Z</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a love affair (III)</title><summary type='text'>Warren Beatty produziu e interpretou em 1994 Love Affair. Com Annette Benning, Katherine Hepburn e Pierce BrosnanPode ser a recordação de Katherine Hepburn, mas também podem ser as imagens de uma ilha no Hawai.Mas sempre, como Meg Ryan em Sleepless in Seattle , de lenço preparado.__________________________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107801582914980769/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107801582914980769' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801582914980769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801582914980769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/once-upon-love-affair-iii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Once upon a love affair (III)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107801461556757333</id><published>2004-02-29T00:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-29T00:43:12.420Z</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a love affair (II)</title><summary type='text'>AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBERUSA, 1957; 119mIt would be a tragedy if the world remembered An Affair to Remember as nothing more than the movie Meg Ryan cries over in Sleepless in Seattle. McCarey’s sumptuous remake of his classic LOVE AFFAIR, working from a virtually identical script, is one of the great Hollywood romances, as elegant as it is bursting with emotion, and as deft as one can imagine in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107801461556757333/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107801461556757333' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801461556757333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801461556757333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/once-upon-love-affair-ii.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Once upon a love affair (II)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107801417791159334</id><published>2004-02-29T00:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-29T00:28:09.733Z</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a love affair (I)</title><summary type='text'>LOVE AFFAIRUSA, 1942; 117mMcCarey was so fond of this story, written by Delmer Daves and Donald Ogden Stewart, that he filmed it twice. In this version, Irene Dunne and Charles Boyer are Terry and Michel, who meet on a transatlantic cruise, fall in love, and elect to ditch their respective fiancés. They give themselves six months to make good, and choose the observation tower of the Empire </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107801417791159334/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107801417791159334' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801417791159334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801417791159334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/once-upon-love-affair-i.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Once upon a love affair (I)&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107801329591292913</id><published>2004-02-29T00:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-29T00:11:11.186Z</updated><title type='text'>Sorrow</title><summary type='text'>How beautiful, if sorrow had not madeSorrow more Beautiful than Beauty’s selfJohn KeatsInglaterra1795-1821__________________________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107801329591292913/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107801329591292913' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801329591292913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801329591292913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/sorrow.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Sorrow&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107801216987201677</id><published>2004-02-28T23:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-29T00:02:35.000Z</updated><title type='text'>Ao poste !</title><summary type='text'>Num blog atira-se ao post. Num blog nunca é certa a divina palavra nem certo o alvo que se mirou.No meu alvo, em movimento, sempre. Até olhar para o céu ou para o deus sempre adiado.Atira-se sobre a lama, sobre os anjos, sobre a alma de outros, infiéis proscritos pela pena.(integrado nos parabéns ao centenário da Águia...)__________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107801216987201677/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107801216987201677' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801216987201677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107801216987201677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/ao-poste.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Ao poste !&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107775002702015229</id><published>2004-02-25T23:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-25T23:05:02.140Z</updated><title type='text'>Um espectro paira sobre a blogosfera</title><summary type='text'>Arrepiados pelos posts terrificos, abruptos, de aviz e de dezavizados, parece que se encontram motivos sórdidos para uma eventual degenerescência da comunidade blogosferiana.Não admira, invadidos de jornalistas, arautos da desgraça, mas também de escritores, inventores de desgraças, podem alguns de nós ficar amarfanhados por tanta clarividência blogosferiana.Mas não, não há que temer nada, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107775002702015229/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107775002702015229' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107775002702015229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107775002702015229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/um-espectro-paira-sobre-blogosfera.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Um espectro paira sobre a blogosfera&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107766529805137009</id><published>2004-02-24T23:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-24T23:35:50.403Z</updated><title type='text'>Miguel Azguime</title><summary type='text'>(Integrado nos parabéns ao Miguel, meu excelso primo que tem a coragem de dar alma ao Miso Ensemble, com a Paula, há muitos anos)__________________________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107766529805137009/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107766529805137009' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107766529805137009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107766529805137009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/miguel-azguime.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Miguel Azguime&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107766366455229361</id><published>2004-02-24T23:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-26T16:35:15.716Z</updated><title type='text'>Broken Sword: the sleeping dragon</title><summary type='text'>Apresento-vos Nico Collard, a minha amiga jornalista, parisiense, preocupada com a investigação que faz neste momento numas ruas esconsas de Paris. Irá depois ao Congo, passará de novo em Paris, viverá momentos emocionantes em Inglaterra. Está apaixonada por George Stobbard, um americano aventureiro (na foto) que a levará depois a Praga, onde um castelo medonho tem segredos. catacumbas e </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107766366455229361/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107766366455229361' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107766366455229361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107766366455229361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/broken-sword-sleeping-dragon.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Broken Sword: the sleeping dragon&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107766214467908332</id><published>2004-02-24T22:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-24T22:46:45.280Z</updated><title type='text'>Cidadão do Mundo</title><summary type='text'>Em Cosmopolis, DeLillo fala sobre o ciber-capital, e mais, sobre a matemática aplicada ao 11 de Setembro. Nunca mencionado.O outro espera sempre por nós, não se sabe onde, nem quando, mas virá, como num jogo de poker em que uma mão pode sempre superar a melhor.Mesmo que pareça impossível, num outro lado do mundo ou na próxima esquina, alguem espera por nós. Para nos amar ou para nos matar.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107766214467908332/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107766214467908332' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107766214467908332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107766214467908332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/cidado-do-mundo.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Cidadão do Mundo&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107766098740455990</id><published>2004-02-24T22:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-24T22:30:21.216Z</updated><title type='text'>In times of relaxation</title><summary type='text'>Make it Jameson time__________________________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107766098740455990/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107766098740455990' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107766098740455990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107766098740455990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/in-times-of-relaxation.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;In times of relaxation&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107757519603026650</id><published>2004-02-23T22:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-23T22:29:49.360Z</updated><title type='text'>Supernova</title><summary type='text'>Fevereiro 23 - Supernova 1987a é observada "a olho nu" a primeira supernova desde 1604. __________________________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107757519603026650/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107757519603026650' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107757519603026650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107757519603026650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/supernova.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Supernova&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107757429518071302</id><published>2004-02-23T22:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-25T13:35:30.733Z</updated><title type='text'>Não me obriguem a vir para a rua gritar</title><summary type='text'>"Admito que a revolução seja uma utopia, mas no meu dia-a-dia procuro comportar-me como se ela fosse tangível. Continuo a pensar que devemos lutar onde exista opressão, seja a que nível for"José Afonso (1929-1987)Dia Z__________________________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107757429518071302/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107757429518071302' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107757429518071302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107757429518071302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/no-me-obriguem-vir-para-rua-gritar.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Não me obriguem a vir para a rua gritar&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107746718231679418</id><published>2004-02-22T16:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-22T16:30:10.590Z</updated><title type='text'>Domingo : Stabat Mater </title><summary type='text'>Quando corpus morietur······(quando o meu corpo morrer)Fac ut animae donetur·········(deixa que à minha alma seja concedida)Paradisi gloria······················(a glória do paraíso)AmenPergolesi1710-1736(Robert King, The King's Consort -1987 Hyperion)__________________________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107746718231679418/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107746718231679418' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107746718231679418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107746718231679418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/domingo-stabat-mater.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Domingo : Stabat Mater &lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107746345204081919</id><published>2004-02-22T15:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-22T15:27:23.390Z</updated><title type='text'>Moshi Moshi</title><summary type='text'>Check yourself into a 5 star hotel, after a 12 hour flight. You try to phone somebody, but its too late or too early, over.You look through the window, and its a new city, and for you its just a state of mind. Should your heart, your body, ask for something, you should call.You should call. Or go downstairs to the bar, or maybe you want to swim or exercise in the gym. A standard 5 star </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107746345204081919/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107746345204081919' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107746345204081919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107746345204081919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/moshi-moshi.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Moshi Moshi&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107737667178539742</id><published>2004-02-21T15:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-21T15:23:45.436Z</updated><title type='text'>Luz da Tarde</title><summary type='text'>Rapaz, acende o candeeiro ! "Ainda  não é escuro. Vai gastar óleo e torcida para nada. O quê? não quer que feche as portadas?Atrás das casas só. Mas não dos montes,O sol sumiu! Faltará meia-hora para as Avé-Marias".Vá, desgraçado ! Faz o que te mando ! A minha amiga espero.Consola-me entretanto, ó luz, da noite auspicioso anúncio!GoetheAlemanha 1749-1832Jorge de Sena (Poesia de 26</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107737667178539742/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107737667178539742' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107737667178539742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107737667178539742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/luz-da-tarde.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Luz da Tarde&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5530029.post-107737550471363314</id><published>2004-02-21T14:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-21T15:44:16.123Z</updated><title type='text'>Luz da Manhã</title><summary type='text'>Amigos, adeus:tal como os gansos selvagensperdidos nas nuvens*****Um branco narciso e um branco biombo se reflectemna sala quietaBashôJapão 1644-1694Jorge de Sena (Poesia de 26 Séc.- ed. ASA)__________________________________________________________________________________</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/feeds/107737550471363314/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5530029&amp;postID=107737550471363314' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107737550471363314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5530029/posts/default/107737550471363314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pickpocket.blogspot.com/2004/02/luz-da-manh.html' title='&lt;font color=&quot;#FF0000&quot; size=&quot;5&quot;&gt;Luz da Manhã&lt;/font&gt;'/><author><name>CA</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nz7ki2xsI1o/SYI0tlzC8qI/AAAAAAAAAFA/mknwb7a_Um0/S220/Agosto.jpg.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
