Over pois é, não fui eu que as disparei. Acho até que tenho uma certa vocação para alvo. Mal sabem que me visto de kevlar todos os dias... Encho e de vinho da Cartuxa, o meu favorito! Beijo.
[Cheech is helping Olive rehearse a scene] Olive: Can't you see? You're living out the exact same pattern your mother lived out with your father. Cheech: I am? Pray tell. Olive: In some way you're trying to relive it and in the process of reliving it, correct it. As if that were possible. HA. Cheech: It don't say "ha." Olive: I know it don't say "ha," I added that. Cheech: Are you allowed to do that? I don't think you're allowed to do that. Olive: We're allowed to add things. It's called ad-libbing. Cheech: Well, I think the whole thing stinks. Olive: Well, I think you're a degenerate zombie so shut up and read. [...] De Bullets over Broadway. .............. kevlar, kevlar?!?!? Lembrei-me duma mais social: "Olha que foi assim que a Alemanha perdeu a guerra!!!" resposta - "Não há azar. Trago a cueca d'aço" Brejeirices No harm done
Ana V.
Cascais. Portugal.
[aviso genuíno: "Talvez alguns leitores achem toda esta conversa algo inverosímil. Para os comprazer, o autor confessa que é da mesma opinião, mas infelizmente as coisas passaram-se como as relatamos."
Gogol em As Almas Mortas.]
["Before my birth there was infinite time, and after my death, inexhaustible time. I never thought of it before: I'd been living luminously between two eternities of darkness."
Pamuk em My Name is Red.]
9 comments:
Vou enviar-te um petit-four sonoro para o teu email para te animar.
Xi-coração grande
Ui, se isso tudo fossem balas.
Beijinho grande.
Twiggy, és uma querida, um obrigada grande.
MAD, mas não são... sou pacifista... Beijos
Bullets over milky-half-way.
Fill the cup...
Over pois é, não fui eu que as disparei. Acho até que tenho uma certa vocação para alvo. Mal sabem que me visto de kevlar todos os dias... Encho e de vinho da Cartuxa, o meu favorito! Beijo.
Twiggy, gostei muito do petit-four, soube a ginjas quentes... outro beijo
[Cheech is helping Olive rehearse a scene]
Olive: Can't you see? You're living out the exact same pattern your mother lived out with your father.
Cheech: I am? Pray tell.
Olive: In some way you're trying to relive it and in the process of reliving it, correct it. As if that were possible. HA.
Cheech: It don't say "ha."
Olive: I know it don't say "ha," I added that.
Cheech: Are you allowed to do that? I don't think you're allowed to do that.
Olive: We're allowed to add things. It's called ad-libbing.
Cheech: Well, I think the whole thing stinks.
Olive: Well, I think you're a degenerate zombie so shut up and read.
[...]
De Bullets over Broadway.
..............
kevlar, kevlar?!?!? Lembrei-me duma mais social: "Olha que foi assim que a Alemanha perdeu a guerra!!!" resposta - "Não há azar. Trago a cueca d'aço"
Brejeirices
No harm done
Hoje já me ri com o Blue, agora fartei-me de rir com a cueca d'aço!! :))
beijos!
HA HA HA
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