<?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-12743768</id><updated>2011-10-14T18:02:49.909-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Primeiros mil microcontos</title><subtitle type='html'>Espaço de publicação de microcontos de aposentados do Senac São Paulo e amigos.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>330</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-1451102203456903125</id><published>2010-12-28T16:48:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T16:48:55.648-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Exemplo de Microliteratura</title><content type='html'>Pra quem gosta de microliteratura, aqui vai um exemplo, com textos do filósofo Denis Dutton, recentemente falecido:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.aldaily.com/arch98.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Arts and Letters Dayle Archive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-1451102203456903125?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/1451102203456903125/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=1451102203456903125' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/1451102203456903125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/1451102203456903125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/12/exemplo-de-microliteratura.html' title='Exemplo de Microliteratura'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-4120779843987320967</id><published>2010-07-12T16:32:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T16:35:39.149-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Registro de ofensa</title><content type='html'>Não, não é um microconto. É apenas uma máxima baseada na vida:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Todas as fraquezas humanas são perdoáveis, menos malcaratismo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-4120779843987320967?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/4120779843987320967/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=4120779843987320967' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/4120779843987320967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/4120779843987320967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/07/registro-de-ofensa.html' title='Registro de ofensa'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-1961907148727655</id><published>2010-07-12T00:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T00:04:21.147-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cantor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;1090. Canta sempre a mesma música. Mas, em cada performance, desafina em trechos diferentes. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-1961907148727655?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/1961907148727655/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=1961907148727655' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/1961907148727655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/1961907148727655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/07/cantor.html' title='Cantor'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8849347318424568556</id><published>2010-06-05T19:03:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T19:09:04.101-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Psysique du role</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1089. A atriz dispensou ensaio e laboratório para seu novo papel, o de  puta. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8849347318424568556?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8849347318424568556/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8849347318424568556' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8849347318424568556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8849347318424568556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/06/psysique-du-role.html' title='Psysique du role'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-5476010192845303174</id><published>2010-06-05T00:08:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T00:08:51.304-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Seis poemas de Elpidio Ruiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="353" height="132"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.goear.com/files/external.swf?file=d9a9953" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" quality="high" width="353" height="132"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-5476010192845303174?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/5476010192845303174/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=5476010192845303174' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5476010192845303174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5476010192845303174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/06/seis-poemas-de-elpidio-ruiz.html' title='Seis poemas de Elpidio Ruiz'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-7502638903274913338</id><published>2010-06-04T21:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T21:29:04.474-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Perdut en la ciutat</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="353" height="132"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.goear.com/files/external.swf?file=39aff12" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" quality="high" width="353" height="132"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-7502638903274913338?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/7502638903274913338/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=7502638903274913338' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7502638903274913338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7502638903274913338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/06/perdut-en-la-ciutat.html' title='Perdut en la ciutat'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-929743232578737194</id><published>2010-06-04T19:14:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T19:14:55.609-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Papel Mojado</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="353" height="132"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.goear.com/files/external.swf?file=14739e8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" quality="high" width="353" height="132"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-929743232578737194?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/929743232578737194/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=929743232578737194' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/929743232578737194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/929743232578737194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/06/papel-mojado.html' title='Papel Mojado'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8340966270676897671</id><published>2010-06-04T19:03:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T19:05:26.583-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pré-corno</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;1088. É solteiro, mas tem chifres imensos. As mulheres o traem antecipadamente. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8340966270676897671?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8340966270676897671/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8340966270676897671' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8340966270676897671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8340966270676897671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/06/pre-corno.html' title='Pré-corno'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8502809175484589018</id><published>2010-06-04T18:44:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T18:47:58.578-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Vida de artista</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;1087. Perdeu tempo num ensaio de caras e bocas. Outra figurante ocupou seu lugar. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8502809175484589018?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8502809175484589018/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8502809175484589018' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8502809175484589018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8502809175484589018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/06/vida-de-artista.html' title='Vida de artista'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-1793320781454345067</id><published>2010-05-30T11:05:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T11:08:00.376-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Leitor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1086. Tipo estranho. Lia todos os dias, religiosamente, o editorial do Estadão. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-1793320781454345067?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/1793320781454345067/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=1793320781454345067' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/1793320781454345067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/1793320781454345067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/05/leitor.html' title='Leitor'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-2863805925029246976</id><published>2010-05-16T23:00:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T23:11:46.673-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tragédia de macho</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1085. Maria foi com as outras. Os ciúmes dele nunca incluiram as amigas: engano fatal. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-2863805925029246976?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/2863805925029246976/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=2863805925029246976' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2863805925029246976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2863805925029246976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/05/tragedia-de-macho.html' title='Tragédia de macho'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-7712601831057152976</id><published>2010-05-16T22:49:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T22:59:06.530-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Vida escrota</title><content type='html'>1&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;084. Geme sem parar. Não sente dor, mas finge sofrimento para  merecer olhares ternos da mulher que já deixou de amá-lo. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-7712601831057152976?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/7712601831057152976/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=7712601831057152976' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7712601831057152976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7712601831057152976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/05/vida-escrota.html' title='Vida escrota'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8461288173788503098</id><published>2010-05-15T12:03:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T12:07:55.267-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mal de amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"&gt;1083. Desesperadamente, tenta esquecê-la. Ela é uma má lembrança de sua incompetência afetiva. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8461288173788503098?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8461288173788503098/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8461288173788503098' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8461288173788503098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8461288173788503098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/05/mal-de-amor.html' title='Mal de amor'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-7142162343075625207</id><published>2010-05-10T13:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T13:52:15.733-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Novo amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;1082. Apaixonou-se por uma lembrança. Descobriu finalmente seu amor por uma mulher que não vê há cinquenta anos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-7142162343075625207?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/7142162343075625207/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=7142162343075625207' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7142162343075625207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7142162343075625207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/05/novo-amor.html' title='Novo amor'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-2291342047093300503</id><published>2010-03-15T14:25:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T14:28:44.540-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Beleza e Inteligência</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 1081. Ela sabe realçar sua beleza. Circula sempre com amigas muito feias. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-2291342047093300503?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/2291342047093300503/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=2291342047093300503' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2291342047093300503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2291342047093300503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/03/beleza-e-inteligencia.html' title='Beleza e Inteligência'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-6919434151462721032</id><published>2010-03-08T08:44:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T08:45:43.457-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Medo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1080. O gato preto parou, não queria atravessar o caminho daquele azarado. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-6919434151462721032?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/6919434151462721032/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=6919434151462721032' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6919434151462721032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6919434151462721032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/03/medo.html' title='Medo'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-5883503682638636305</id><published>2010-03-07T19:33:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T19:34:05.538-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dia internacional da mulher</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/J9oMOoQXSSI&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/J9oMOoQXSSI&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-5883503682638636305?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/5883503682638636305/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=5883503682638636305' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5883503682638636305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5883503682638636305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/03/dia-internacional-da-mulher.html' title='Dia internacional da mulher'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-2789250259980450841</id><published>2010-03-06T23:04:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T23:15:43.772-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Voltar aos microcontos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Microcontos exigem dedicação. São ciumentos. Não admitem concorrência com outras obrigações. E quando blogados, querem exclusividade. E eu acho que lhes cabe razão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Este canto de microliteratura está quase abandonado. Motivo principal: minha dedicação ao Boteco Escola. E há uma mania recente: gasto tempo precioso no Twitter. Nisso, o microescrever com graça e tentativa de beleza fica esquecido. Pois é... ciúmes de microcontos estão fundados em carradas de razão. Volto aqui e fico pensando em deixar de lado outras obrigações de webcidadania para alimentar estes Primeiros Mil Microcontos com mais histórias. Quem sabe essa tentação vence a briga. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-2789250259980450841?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/2789250259980450841/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=2789250259980450841' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2789250259980450841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2789250259980450841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/03/voltar-aos-microcontos.html' title='Voltar aos microcontos'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-5327003964670828241</id><published>2010-03-06T22:57:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T19:24:39.468-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1080. Tinha bronquite, mas mas disfarçava o chiado. Queria continuar na pelada apesar da chuva. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-5327003964670828241?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/5327003964670828241/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=5327003964670828241' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5327003964670828241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5327003964670828241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/03/1080.html' title=''/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-3695598565291072135</id><published>2010-02-17T15:29:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T15:36:01.861-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Velhos amores</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;1079. Ela fez parte do meu pretérito perfeito. Nunca mais voltou. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-3695598565291072135?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/3695598565291072135/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=3695598565291072135' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/3695598565291072135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/3695598565291072135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2010/02/velhos-amores.html' title='Velhos amores'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-7817282002352892952</id><published>2009-08-07T15:09:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T15:11:38.918-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Doentinho</title><content type='html'>1078. &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Não queria sarar. Sadio perderia o carinho da mãe. (j.novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-7817282002352892952?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/7817282002352892952/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=7817282002352892952' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7817282002352892952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7817282002352892952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2009/08/doentinho.html' title='Doentinho'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8567836083443775603</id><published>2009-02-15T11:15:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T11:20:59.940-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Anjo Torto</title><content type='html'>O curto escrito que será aqui registrado não é um microconto. É apenas uma observação contra expectativas de muita ordem como sinônimo de vida, progresso, evolução.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;No princípio era o caos. Depois piorou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8567836083443775603?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8567836083443775603/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8567836083443775603' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8567836083443775603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8567836083443775603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2009/02/anjo-torto.html' title='Anjo Torto'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-6533381884094165626</id><published>2009-02-14T18:45:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T18:47:51.426-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Idade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;1077. A mulher de trinta confessou: tem quarenta e cinco.(j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-6533381884094165626?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/6533381884094165626/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=6533381884094165626' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6533381884094165626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6533381884094165626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2009/02/idade.html' title='Idade'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8207670589204515977</id><published>2008-11-11T21:59:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T22:03:05.990-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nossa Lei</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1076. Juiz pequeno, jamais condena grandes crimininosos. (j. novelino)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8207670589204515977?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8207670589204515977/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8207670589204515977' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8207670589204515977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8207670589204515977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2008/11/nossa-lei.html' title='Nossa Lei'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8297916478069061456</id><published>2008-04-03T11:50:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T13:23:29.384-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Bichos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;075. Era um galo capão, carinhoso com os pintinhos, inimigo das galinhas. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1076. Como teve de pagar o pato, faltou-lhe grana para comer galinha. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8297916478069061456?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8297916478069061456/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8297916478069061456' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8297916478069061456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8297916478069061456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2008/04/bichos.html' title='Bichos'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-163353258576151290</id><published>2008-03-24T18:08:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T18:21:46.781-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Novas histórias infantis</title><content type='html'>Faz uns dias que cismei com histórias infantis. E já que muita gente anda (re)contando as velhas histórias com finais politicamente corretos, resolvi contra-atacar. Comecei a converter algumas das velhas histórias de minha infância em microcontos. Vejam aqui o resultado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1070. Ela beijou o sapo. Hoje é mãe de dez girinos. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1071. No campo de nudistas, o menino gritou: "o rei está vestido!" (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1072. O patinho bonito cresceu e descobriu que é um cisne feio. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1073. Assim como as filhas de sua madrasta, a Gata Boralheira calça 34. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1074. Depois do beijo do príncipe, a Bela Adormecida começou a ter insônia. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-163353258576151290?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/163353258576151290/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=163353258576151290' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/163353258576151290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/163353258576151290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2008/03/novas-histrias-infantis.html' title='Novas histórias infantis'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-4438016178012291690</id><published>2008-03-22T10:01:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T10:13:04.753-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Contos com bichos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/R-UFqMKludI/AAAAAAAAAFo/INglEdFurxs/s1600-h/cobra+e+sapo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/R-UFqMKludI/AAAAAAAAAFo/INglEdFurxs/s400/cobra+e+sapo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180553168737909202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1608. O sapo olhou para a cobra e ela desistiu do almoço. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1069. O lobo não era mau. Mau era o caçador. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-4438016178012291690?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/4438016178012291690/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=4438016178012291690' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/4438016178012291690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/4438016178012291690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2008/03/contos-com-bichos.html' title='Contos com bichos'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/R-UFqMKludI/AAAAAAAAAFo/INglEdFurxs/s72-c/cobra+e+sapo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-4073792488956409078</id><published>2008-01-24T21:10:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T21:19:14.924-02:00</updated><title type='text'>pobre matemático</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/R5kc055qfrI/AAAAAAAAAEk/QrkyCOfP4_8/s1600-h/calculo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/R5kc055qfrI/AAAAAAAAAEk/QrkyCOfP4_8/s320/calculo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159186543351070386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1067. Mergulhou em cálculos. Nada resolveu. É um problema. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-4073792488956409078?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/4073792488956409078/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=4073792488956409078' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/4073792488956409078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/4073792488956409078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2008/01/pobre-matemtico.html' title='pobre matemático'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/R5kc055qfrI/AAAAAAAAAEk/QrkyCOfP4_8/s72-c/calculo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8199713116039727857</id><published>2008-01-24T19:40:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T19:42:27.791-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Busca</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1066. Casou-se com um cérebro. Até hoje não sabe o que é orgasmo. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8199713116039727857?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8199713116039727857/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8199713116039727857' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8199713116039727857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8199713116039727857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2008/01/busca.html' title='Busca'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-6353023712620685490</id><published>2008-01-07T15:34:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T15:37:56.950-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Olé!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1065. Teimava em dizer que não era teimoso. Era espanhol. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-6353023712620685490?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/6353023712620685490/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=6353023712620685490' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6353023712620685490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6353023712620685490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2008/01/ol.html' title='Olé!'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-6546795540014597911</id><published>2008-01-06T12:17:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T12:19:50.676-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sina de sonhador</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1064. Sonhou belos sonhos. Não pode contá-los. Nunca acordou. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-6546795540014597911?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/6546795540014597911/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=6546795540014597911' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6546795540014597911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6546795540014597911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2008/01/sina-de-sonhador.html' title='Sina de sonhador'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-2550360473549283774</id><published>2007-11-30T15:10:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T15:17:29.030-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Aquele pavão</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/R1BFP9QRmJI/AAAAAAAAAEU/VF21ZujnuXg/s1600-R/pavo+real.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/R1BFP9QRmJI/AAAAAAAAAEU/9jtt-IOTMoU/s320/pavo+real.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138683315272915090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;1063. É um pavão humilde. Cortaram-lhe o rabo. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-2550360473549283774?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/2550360473549283774/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=2550360473549283774' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2550360473549283774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2550360473549283774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/11/aquele-pavo.html' title='Aquele pavão'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/R1BFP9QRmJI/AAAAAAAAAEU/9jtt-IOTMoU/s72-c/pavo+real.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-6713179985822405519</id><published>2007-11-27T22:36:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T22:38:32.869-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Janela de oportunidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1062. Agarrou a oportunidade. Perdeu o amor. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-6713179985822405519?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/6713179985822405519/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=6713179985822405519' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6713179985822405519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6713179985822405519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/11/janela-de-oportunidade.html' title='Janela de oportunidade'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-975691737402759452</id><published>2007-11-26T18:16:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T18:18:30.354-02:00</updated><title type='text'>À moda de Gendlin</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1061. Era muito falante. Ali, porém, faltaram-lhe ... . (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-975691737402759452?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/975691737402759452/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=975691737402759452' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/975691737402759452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/975691737402759452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/11/moda-de-gendlin.html' title='À moda de Gendlin'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-2274567767892121000</id><published>2007-11-26T18:13:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T18:15:59.614-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Rebelde</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;1060. Biruta do contra, ela não segue a direção dos ventos. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-2274567767892121000?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/2274567767892121000/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=2274567767892121000' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2274567767892121000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2274567767892121000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/11/rebelde.html' title='Rebelde'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-4723573477914012168</id><published>2007-11-22T19:25:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T19:27:24.035-02:00</updated><title type='text'>História da cenoura</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1059. O burro finalmente alcançou a cenoura. E descobriu que ela era de plástico. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-4723573477914012168?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/4723573477914012168/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=4723573477914012168' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/4723573477914012168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/4723573477914012168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/11/histria-da-cenoura.html' title='História da cenoura'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-3260446382146262075</id><published>2007-11-04T12:18:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T19:24:07.245-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mágoa de boiadeiro....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/Ry3XZqthxUI/AAAAAAAAAEM/EF23XdYzHr4/s1600-h/boiadeiro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128992386606810434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/Ry3XZqthxUI/AAAAAAAAAEM/EF23XdYzHr4/s200/boiadeiro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1058. Sonho: ser caipira de sucesso. Sina: nasceu e morreu na Moóca. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-3260446382146262075?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/3260446382146262075/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=3260446382146262075' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/3260446382146262075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/3260446382146262075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/11/mgoa-de-boiadeiro.html' title='Mágoa de boiadeiro....'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/Ry3XZqthxUI/AAAAAAAAAEM/EF23XdYzHr4/s72-c/boiadeiro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-7886208082128437958</id><published>2007-11-01T00:28:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T19:22:55.171-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais carnaval</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;1057. Jesus foi para a avenida. Carnavalizaram o Natal. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-7886208082128437958?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/7886208082128437958/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=7886208082128437958' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7886208082128437958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/7886208082128437958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/11/mais-carnaval.html' title='Mais carnaval'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-413203357902412938</id><published>2007-10-31T15:35:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T15:44:43.421-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Hitória de carnaval</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/Ryi-8qthxRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/QCLfCQPSEec/s1600-h/confete.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/Ryi-8qthxRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/QCLfCQPSEec/s320/confete.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127558125227984146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1056. Trouxe confete e serpentina, mas não tem mais alegria. Perdeu-a no último carnaval. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-413203357902412938?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/413203357902412938/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=413203357902412938' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/413203357902412938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/413203357902412938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/10/hitria-de-carnaval.html' title='Hitória de carnaval'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/Ryi-8qthxRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/QCLfCQPSEec/s72-c/confete.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-5201144054355327355</id><published>2007-10-31T15:31:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T15:33:50.156-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Moderna e liberada</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;1055. Ela alugou uma barriga para as quartas. Seu intestino não se dá bem com feijoada. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-5201144054355327355?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/5201144054355327355/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=5201144054355327355' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5201144054355327355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5201144054355327355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/10/moderna-e-liberada.html' title='Moderna e liberada'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-1098725871501857331</id><published>2007-10-23T11:49:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T11:55:40.778-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dança circular</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/Rx39J_IiTYI/AAAAAAAAADs/C-JfcjTUlzA/s1600-h/dan%C3%A7a+circular.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/Rx39J_IiTYI/AAAAAAAAADs/C-JfcjTUlzA/s320/dan%C3%A7a+circular.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124530299025378690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;1054. Ciranda, cirandinha... e no fim: vamos pecar. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-1098725871501857331?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/1098725871501857331/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=1098725871501857331' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/1098725871501857331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/1098725871501857331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/10/dana-circular.html' title='Dança circular'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/Rx39J_IiTYI/AAAAAAAAADs/C-JfcjTUlzA/s72-c/dan%C3%A7a+circular.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-5041794753957013300</id><published>2007-10-22T12:35:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T12:37:17.009-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais um...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1053. Ascendeu uma vela para o santo. Foi atendida pelo diabo. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-5041794753957013300?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/5041794753957013300/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=5041794753957013300' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5041794753957013300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5041794753957013300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/10/mais-um_22.html' title='Mais um...'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-2729809558080495735</id><published>2007-09-24T18:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T18:55:15.627-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pausa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/RvgyFfIiTVI/AAAAAAAAADU/bqdqzY8ryRY/s1600-h/erva+mate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/RvgyFfIiTVI/AAAAAAAAADU/bqdqzY8ryRY/s320/erva+mate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113892446717234514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-2729809558080495735?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/2729809558080495735/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=2729809558080495735' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2729809558080495735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2729809558080495735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/09/pausa.html' title='Pausa'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/RvgyFfIiTVI/AAAAAAAAADU/bqdqzY8ryRY/s72-c/erva+mate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-5326776016807285019</id><published>2007-09-24T17:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T18:49:24.453-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Desencontro</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;1052. Maria foi com os outros. João ficou só. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-5326776016807285019?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/5326776016807285019/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=5326776016807285019' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5326776016807285019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/5326776016807285019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/09/desencontro.html' title='Desencontro'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-9177121534932014885</id><published>2007-09-24T17:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T17:48:59.114-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ciência na Cornuália</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1051. Fez teste de DNA. Descobriu que não era pai de cinco de seus dez filhos. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-9177121534932014885?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/9177121534932014885/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=9177121534932014885' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/9177121534932014885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/9177121534932014885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/09/cincia-na-cornulia.html' title='Ciência na Cornuália'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-6201424773147174912</id><published>2007-09-23T22:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T22:14:43.775-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinematográfico</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;1050. Contou metade da história. Como a grana era pouca, só fez um curta. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-6201424773147174912?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/6201424773147174912/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=6201424773147174912' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6201424773147174912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/6201424773147174912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/09/cinematogrfico.html' title='Cinematográfico'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8171418522559357701</id><published>2007-09-21T14:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T14:47:58.015-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Grana e carinho</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;1049. Mulher-da-vida, ela não cobra michê se tratada com carinho. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8171418522559357701?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8171418522559357701/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8171418522559357701' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8171418522559357701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8171418522559357701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/09/grana-e-carinho.html' title='Grana e carinho'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8432257404187391215</id><published>2007-08-26T16:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T16:25:59.683-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais um microconto religioso</title><content type='html'>Meditações sobre o misticismo me levaram a mais uma história sobre gente muito religiosa. Vejam o resultado:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1048. O corno místico é traído pela santa de sua devoção. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8432257404187391215?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8432257404187391215/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8432257404187391215' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8432257404187391215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8432257404187391215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/08/mais-um-microconto-religioso.html' title='Mais um microconto religioso'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-8748502454920127055</id><published>2007-08-24T21:33:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T14:51:26.490-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Estamos voltando</title><content type='html'>No começo deste blog eu disse que essa história de microcontos pega. E pega mesmo. Mas depois de um tempo, outras solicitações mudam a vida e a gente vai deixando de contar contos com muita urgência. Hoje, sem aviso, algumas histórias foram invadindo o meu dia. Insistiram. Nem sei se são boas. Preciso, porém, contá-las. Caso contrário elas continuarão a insistir. Preciso, assim, me livrar das ditas cujas. Aqui vão elas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;1045. Gordinha, ela sofre de excesso de excessos. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;1046. Ela foi gentil. Ele a viu provocante. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;1047. O veado devoto faz seu confessor pecar. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-8748502454920127055?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/8748502454920127055/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=8748502454920127055' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8748502454920127055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/8748502454920127055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/08/estamos-voltando.html' title='Estamos voltando'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-2760321885902695177</id><published>2007-04-03T21:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T21:52:00.861-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Box 32, Floripa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/RhL1YaG0jDI/AAAAAAAAACk/1ae3d94sivc/s1600-h/box+floripa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/RhL1YaG0jDI/AAAAAAAAACk/1ae3d94sivc/s400/box+floripa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049367931909344306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha nóis aí num papo legal no Box 32, Floripa, 2005. Meus parceiros de conversa, dois velhos amigos de SanDiego: June e Bernie Dodge. Os conversantes estão num escurinho. O grande destaque é o fundo do Box 32, lugarzinho porreta para grandes papos, acompanhados por boa cachaça, chope bem tirado e pastéis de camarão. Recomendo, e olha que nada ganho de comissão. O lugar merece mesmo indicação. Se for a Floripa, não deixe de dar um pulinho até o velho mercado para experimentar as delícias de um boteco exemplar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-2760321885902695177?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/2760321885902695177/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=2760321885902695177' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2760321885902695177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/2760321885902695177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/04/box-32-floripa.html' title='Box 32, Floripa'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/RhL1YaG0jDI/AAAAAAAAACk/1ae3d94sivc/s72-c/box+floripa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-116977087917974140</id><published>2007-01-25T21:27:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T22:53:30.910-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dizer a própria palavra</title><content type='html'>No título deste post tento sintentizar uma das esperanças de Paulo Freire; um cidadão livre é aquele que conscientemente é capaz de dizer a sua própria palavra. Nosso maior educador não chegou a publicar um blog, mas era alguém que alimentava muitas expectativas com relação às possibilidades libertárias da rede mundial de computadores. E, certamente, apreciaria muitos dos usos dos blogs em nossos dias. Faço tais reflexões a partir de um diálogo de Freire com um grupo de educadores sobre tecnologia educacional; diálogo do qual tive o privilégio de participar..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um exemplo fantástico de possibilidade de dizer a própria palavra, proporcionada por blogs, é &lt;a href="http://riverbendblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;Baghdad Burning&lt;/a&gt;, o diário eletrônico publicado por uma jovem iraquiana que assiste diariamente aos efeitos da ocupação estrangeira em seu país. A edição do&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; New York Review of Books&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; de 11/01/2007 resenha alguns livros recentes sobre o Iraque. Um dos livros resenhados é uma compilação das mensagens de Riverbend, a blogueira de Bagdá. A autora, uma profissional de informática, faz um registro admirável de como é a vida de cada dia no Iraque ocupado. Na resenha, observa-se que o texto (em inglês) da moça deixaria muitos americanos envergonhados. E eu acrescento: deve envergonhar também muitos profissionais da área de computação. O texto é limpo, atraente, sedutor, além de fazer uma leitura muito bem informada dos acontecimantos. Mas, para além dos aspectos formais, o texto é um registro histórico imprescindível para quem queira entender o que está acontecendo no Iraque. Riverbend encontrou no blog uma forma de dizer com liberdade sua palavra sobre a experiência trágica sua e de sua terra. Baghdad Burning merece ser lido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao ler a matéria do &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;New York Review of Books&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; fiz uma relação inevitável: os blogs continuam censurados (bloqueados) em muitas escolas. Uma pena! Nessas escolas, alunos e professores perdem um importante canal para dizer suas próprias palavras. Dias depois de ler a matéria sobre a blogueira de Bagdá, fiquei sabendo de mais uma medida (anunciada nos jornais de 23/01/2007) contra a liberdade de dizer a própria palavra: o COB (Comitê Olímpico Brasileiro) baixou norma para impedir que os atletas brasileiros publiquem qualquer coisa em seu blogs durante os próximos Jogos Panamericanos. Cabe um pedido de socorro a nosso querido Paulo Freire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-116977087917974140?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/116977087917974140/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=116977087917974140' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/116977087917974140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/116977087917974140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/01/dizer-prpria-palavra_25.html' title='Dizer a própria palavra'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-116960234169017805</id><published>2007-01-23T23:31:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T23:32:21.706-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Teste</title><content type='html'>Fui vítima do erro 500. Que será isso?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-116960234169017805?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/116960234169017805/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=116960234169017805' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/116960234169017805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/116960234169017805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2007/01/teste.html' title='Teste'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113717776427269925</id><published>2006-01-13T16:33:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T16:45:43.033-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sobre a beleza</title><content type='html'>Estou de férias nas tarefas de editor de blogs. Faz 30 dias que não posto nada. Vou retomar aos poucos o trabalho. Hoje, antes de partir para alguns dias de praia (sem computador), resolvi registrar dois epigramas sobre beleza. Se alguém quiser contribuir, favor mandar texto para &lt;a href="mailto:jarbas@sdsualumni.org"&gt;jarbas@sdsualumni.org&lt;/a&gt; . Ah! Não usem o meu e-mail futuro.usp, ele está corrompido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E aqui vão dois epigramas sobre beleza:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se beleza pagasse imposto, ela seria isenta. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se a natureza não ajuda, ajude a natureza. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113717776427269925?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113717776427269925/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113717776427269925' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113717776427269925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113717776427269925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2006/01/sobre-beleza.html' title='Sobre a beleza'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113457847150060056</id><published>2005-12-14T14:20:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T14:41:11.520-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Caricatura e microliteratura</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/1600/arian%20friend.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/320/arian%20friend.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Caricaturas contam histórias com poucos traços e poucas palavras. São microliteratura? Talvez a resposta não importe muito. As caricaturas são quase sempre um dedo apontando para o óbvio que não queremos ver. Essa aí do lado é um bom exemplo. Ela é obra do pintor e desenhista polonês Arthur Szyk e foi produzida por volta de 1941. O título, &lt;strong&gt;Aryan Ally&lt;/strong&gt;, na parte baixa esquerda da imagem dispensa explicação. Uma série de desenhos de Szyk sobre o nazismo está disponível em &lt;a href="http://www.animationarchive.org/"&gt;ASIFA - Hollyood Animation Archives&lt;/a&gt;. Os exageros nos traços que brutalizam os personagens retratados lembram os comentários de Eco sobre caricaturas políticas durante a segunda Grande Guerra. Vale a pena uma visitinha ao blog da ASIFA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113457847150060056?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113457847150060056/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113457847150060056' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113457847150060056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113457847150060056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/12/caricatura-e-microliteratura.html' title='Caricatura e microliteratura'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113413746415246928</id><published>2005-12-09T12:00:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T12:17:10.280-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dez outros microcontos do Seabra</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1036. A enfermeira aplicava injeções tão bem que os elogios a seu trabalho eram abundantes. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1037. Ele levantou o traseiro da cadeira mas os juros continuaram a tomar-lhe a dianteira. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1038. Ele ainda não estava preparado para a inclusão digital e ficou com o analógico a lhe doer. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1039. Nua na varanda, ela louvava a lua cheia, acompanhada por dezenas de olhos, atrás das janelas de luzes apagadas da vizinhança. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1040. O chapeleiro maluco dava pulos de alegria quando chegava seu melhor cliente, um verdadeiro bicho de sete cabeças. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1041. Apesar de agora ele ser um príncipe, ela sempre ficava com um gosto de batráquio na boca após cada beijo. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1042. Os semícaros eram um povo unialado, cada qual com uma única asa. Para voar, tinham que escolher alguém e se abraçar. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1043. O escritor plantou um pé de feijão mágico, que cresceu muito. Quando ia subi-lo para o castelo nas nuvens, foi detido por violar direitos autorais. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1044. Espetáculo diário, a cada degrau que o velho subia, com o auxílio das muletas, soltava cabeludos palavrões, repetidos pelo papagaio do vizinho. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;1045. Lutando contra a ditadura, passou dos oitenta anos de idade, mas ao dar um mero passeio noturno no quarteirão, morreu atropelado. (Carlos Seabra)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113413746415246928?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113413746415246928/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113413746415246928' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113413746415246928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113413746415246928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/12/dez-outros-microcontos-do-seabra_09.html' title='Dez outros microcontos do Seabra'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113413626875098956</id><published>2005-12-09T11:43:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T12:15:00.466-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Como Caçar um Leão no Saara: solução 3</title><content type='html'>Para ficar nos conformes dos 150 toques, o Pelarin mandou nova versão da solução das ciências políticas. Além disso, ele engendrou mais uma outra resposta para o famoso problema: uma solução psicanalítica. Vejam os resultados:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Método das Ciências Políticas.&lt;/strong&gt; Lance sua candidatura a Rei dos Animais pelo PT. Contrate Duda Mendonça. Pague as despesas da campanha com o caixa dois. Ele vai ficar com o rabo preso. (P. Pelarin)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Método Psicanalítico.&lt;/strong&gt; Faça-o passar por uma regressão. Quando voltar aos primeiros meses de vida, prenda-o numa gaiola. (P. Pelarin)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113413626875098956?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113413626875098956/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113413626875098956' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113413626875098956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113413626875098956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/12/como-caar-um-leo-no-saara-soluo-3.html' title='Como Caçar um Leão no Saara: solução 3'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113381554917408856</id><published>2005-12-05T18:29:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-12-05T18:50:43.580-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Como Caçar um Leão no Saara: solução 2</title><content type='html'>Dei um tempo para os microcontos. Enquanto isso estou pesquisando outras possibilidades de microliteratura. Como já postei dias atrás, respostas científicas á fomosa pergunta &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Como Caçar um Leão no Saara?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; podem ser um filão interessante. O pessoal de ciências exatas já produziu algumas pérolas nesse campo. Minha proposta é a de inventar respostas fundadas em princípios das ciências humanas. Ensaiei uma solução econômica. Agora o Pelarin ensaia uma resposta no campo das Ciências Políticas Tupiniquins. O texto ultrapassa os 150 caracteres, mas acho que vale a pena abrir um precedente para mostrar possíveis caminhos de respostas para o desafio científico de caça ao leão no Saara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Método de Ciência Política Tupiniquim.&lt;/strong&gt; Lance sua candidatura a "Rei dos Animais" pelo PT; contrate Duda Mendonça para fazer o marketing da campanha; pague as despesas da campanha com o "caixa dois" (ou com recursos não contabilizados). O leão certamente vai ficar com o rabo preso. (P. Pelarin)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113381554917408856?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113381554917408856/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113381554917408856' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113381554917408856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113381554917408856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/12/como-caar-um-leo-no-saara-soluo-2.html' title='Como Caçar um Leão no Saara: solução 2'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113339612746242661</id><published>2005-11-30T22:10:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T22:15:27.580-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Como Caçar um Leão no Saara: solução 1</title><content type='html'>Para animar a festa, proponho aqui uma primeira solução (econômica) para o famoso problema de &lt;em&gt;como caçar&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;um leão no Saara&lt;/em&gt;. Alguém pode tentar uma solução pedagógica?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Solução de economista ortodoxo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Aumente os juros dos leões saarianos. Logo, um deles, morto de fome, virá comer na sua mão. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113339612746242661?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113339612746242661/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113339612746242661' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113339612746242661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113339612746242661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/como-caar-um-leo-no-saara-soluo-1.html' title='Como Caçar um Leão no Saara: solução 1'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113338370433988474</id><published>2005-11-30T18:37:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T19:13:01.216-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Como Caçar um Leão no Saara?</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Em navegações para conhecer mais microliteratura na Web, encontrei um blog argentino chamado &lt;a href="http://jdem.blogspot.com/"&gt;Juan de Mairena.&lt;/a&gt; Interessei-me por dois motivos: Juan de Mairena é um dos pseudônimos do grande poeta espanhol Antonio Machado [meu ídolo], o blog se caracteriza como uma publicação de &lt;em&gt;literatura cinza&lt;/em&gt;. Mas fiquei decepcionado. O blogueiro de Juan Mairena publicou apenas dois posts este ano. Porém, a última publicação é interessante: ela sugere que soluções para o famoso problema  &lt;a href="http://users.ox.ac.uk/~invar/lions.html#4"&gt;Como Caçar um Leão no Saara?&lt;/a&gt; podem resultar em peças microliterárias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O problema é célebre e as tentativas de solucioná-lo a partir de diversas abordagens científicas podem ser muito engraçadas. O que há até hoje são soluções no campo da física, geometria e matemática. Creio que fórmulas em outras áreas (filosofia, teologia, ética, psicologia etc.) , desde que escritas no mesmo padrão que nossos microcontos [máximo de 150 espaços], poderão resultar em mini-escritos de boa qualidade literária. Alguém se habilita?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para apreciação de todos, traduzi livremente as soluções que o blogueiro de Juan de Mairena republicou. Possivelmente, para bem entender cada solução, seja preciso algum verniz de ciência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Série Caçando um Leão no Saara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Método Schrodinger.&lt;/strong&gt; Num dado momento há uma possibilidade de que um leão entre na jaula. Sente-se e espere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Método de Newton.&lt;/strong&gt; Despreze o atrito; o leão e a jaula irão atrair-se mutuamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abordagem prática dos informatas.&lt;/strong&gt; Encontramos um coelho. E ele está morto. Vamos pegá-lo e dar-lhe o nome de leão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Há uma solução fora do nosso padrão de 150 toques. Mas eu acho que vale a pena registrá-la para que os leitores conheçam mais uma resposta clássica para o problema.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abordagem lógica.&lt;/strong&gt; O leão é um continuum. De acordo com o teorema de Cohen, ele é indeciso (especialmente quando precisa fazer uma escolha). Deixemos dois homens se aproximarem dele simultaneamente. O bicho, incapaz de decidir quem atacar, poderá ser capturado com facilidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113338370433988474?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113338370433988474/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113338370433988474' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113338370433988474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113338370433988474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/como-caar-um-leo-no-saara.html' title='Como Caçar um Leão no Saara?'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113265727692628414</id><published>2005-11-22T08:57:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T09:02:49.130-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Zezé no cinema</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1033. Não falava árabe, russo, alemão ou chinês, mas sempre que ia a uma sessão da Mostra Internacional de Cinema dava-se ar de poliglota. (Zezé Pina)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1034. Na tela o galã rouba um beijo da mocinha. Na platéia, Jurema chora a solidão de quem nunca teve um beijo roubado. (Zezé Pina)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1035. Com ar zombeteiro, o público que deixava o cinema olhava as próximas vítimas à espera na fila. (Zezé Pina)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113265727692628414?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113265727692628414/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113265727692628414' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113265727692628414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113265727692628414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/zez-no-cinema.html' title='Zezé no cinema'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113265686119125844</id><published>2005-11-22T08:52:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T08:55:43.523-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pelarin pós milhar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1032. "Como você chama sua mulher?" "Oi querida! Oi amor! Oi paixão!" "E ela, como te chama?" "Tá na meeesa!" (P. Pelarin)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113265686119125844?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113265686119125844/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113265686119125844' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113265686119125844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113265686119125844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/pelarin-ps-milhar.html' title='Pelarin pós milhar'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113132665037824017</id><published>2005-11-06T23:12:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T23:24:10.400-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicamocha</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/1600/chicamocha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/200/chicamocha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Depois que publiquei a história do cabrito, lembrei-me de Chicamocha, um canion que fica próximo da cidade de Bucaramanga, na Colômbia. Foi num restaurante rústico, com uma vista parecida com esta da foto ao lado, que saborei o melhor prato de cabrito em minha vida. A cicerone em tão remota parte do mundo foi a Yole, uma colombiana que trabalhou conosco no famoso Pie- Programa de Informática e Educação.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113132665037824017?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113132665037824017/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113132665037824017' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113132665037824017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113132665037824017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/chicamocha.html' title='Chicamocha'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113128663404309018</id><published>2005-11-06T12:10:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T12:17:14.090-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais uma dos anos meia oito</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1031. Ela guarda até hoje a Bic que emprestou para o Zé Dirceu no hall da Maria Antônia. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113128663404309018?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113128663404309018/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113128663404309018' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113128663404309018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113128663404309018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/mais-uma-dos-anos-meia-oito.html' title='Mais uma dos anos meia oito'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113123812920172192</id><published>2005-11-05T22:47:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-05T22:48:49.203-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra chegar na terceira dezena pós primeiro milhar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1030. Não há mais bons cabritos. Todos berram na hora da degola.  (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113123812920172192?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113123812920172192/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113123812920172192' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113123812920172192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113123812920172192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/pra-chegar-na-terceira-dezena-ps.html' title='Pra chegar na terceira dezena pós primeiro milhar'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113123741940879303</id><published>2005-11-05T22:32:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-05T22:44:25.026-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais contos d'Angola</title><content type='html'>Lá das lonjuras angolanas, Eliane manda mais três histórias:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1027. Riquinho, figura polêmica do cenário Angolano. Se fosse "Pobrebinho", só seria mais um. (Eliane Camargo)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1028. Diziam que lhe faltavam "maneiras", mas, na verdade, lhe sobravam "manias". (Eliane Camargo)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1029. Ele sem jeito lhe pediu perdão, ela com jeito não aceitou. (Eliane Camargo)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113123741940879303?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113123741940879303/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113123741940879303' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113123741940879303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113123741940879303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/mais-contos-dangola.html' title='Mais contos d&apos;Angola'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113096155924091578</id><published>2005-11-02T17:56:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T18:00:52.973-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais dois do glorioso 68</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1025. Colocaram-no como segurança na faculdade ocupada. Mas ele não sabe como engatilhar o 38 que lhe deram para cumprir a tarefa. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1026. Ele era mulato, filho de sapateiro. Ela era judia, filha de banqueiro. O casal fazia revolução na rua e na cama. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113096155924091578?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113096155924091578/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113096155924091578' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113096155924091578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113096155924091578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/mais-dois-do-glorioso-68.html' title='Mais dois do glorioso 68'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113096127193914718</id><published>2005-11-02T17:52:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T15:49:25.940-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pelarin meia oito</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1024. Os conchavos dos estudantes da USP da Maria Antonia quase sempre terminavam com cervejas no "Sujinho". (P. Pelarin)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113096127193914718?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113096127193914718/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113096127193914718' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113096127193914718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113096127193914718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/pelarin-meia-oito.html' title='Pelarin meia oito'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113089295652662493</id><published>2005-11-01T22:42:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T17:56:27.666-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cenas meia oito</title><content type='html'>Há muitas histórias dos idos de 68. O romantismo da Maria Antônia ocupada, os programas culturais nas acardas em poder dos estudantes, os sigilos que envolveram o Congresso de Ibiúna, e os sonhos e pesadelos de uma juventude generosa trazem lembranças que podem ser recontadas em microcontos. É possível que pessoas que não viveram as manifestações, as passeatas, as assembléias e as intermináveis reuniões de organização entendam pouco tais histórias, ainda mais quando contadas com muita economia verbal. Mesmo assim, acho que vale a pena arquitetar uma série de microcontos com a cara dos anos meia oito. Eis aqui a primeira história:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1023. Na quinta vez consecutiva que voltou ao local secreto foi enfim aceito como representante do camarada Posadas no Congresso de Ibiúna. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113089295652662493?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113089295652662493/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113089295652662493' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113089295652662493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113089295652662493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/cenas-meia-oito.html' title='Cenas meia oito'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113084876443834039</id><published>2005-11-01T10:37:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T10:39:24.456-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Imaginação</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1022. Ele não mentia. Apenas inventava um novo detalhe  cada vez que contava a mesma história. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113084876443834039?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113084876443834039/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113084876443834039' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113084876443834039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113084876443834039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/11/imaginao.html' title='Imaginação'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113072509283497702</id><published>2005-10-31T00:16:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-31T00:18:12.933-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais uma da roça</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1021. Discreto, ele assunta tudo, mas não divulga nada. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113072509283497702?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113072509283497702/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113072509283497702' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113072509283497702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113072509283497702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/mais-uma-da-roa.html' title='Mais uma da roça'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113072278750011872</id><published>2005-10-30T23:28:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T23:39:47.530-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cultura completamente inútil</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/1600/Curva%20normal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/200/Curva%20normal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Depois de editar os microcontos estatíticos, fui à web para ver o que há sobre curva normal. Encontrei as costumeiras informações sobre distribuição. Encontrei tembém uma informação curiosa:  notas de marco - moeda que até pouco tempo era a grana da Alemanha - homenageavam Carl Friedrich Gauss, o inventor desse conceito tão comum e importante em estatística. Sei que ninguém vai correr atrás da informação original. Mas, de qualquer forma, informo que a mesma pode ser encontrada em:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.willamette.edu/~mjaneba/help/normalcurve.html"&gt;http://www.willamette.edu/~mjaneba/help/normalcurve.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113072278750011872?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113072278750011872/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113072278750011872' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113072278750011872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113072278750011872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/cultura-completamente-intil.html' title='Cultura completamente inútil'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113071814065346838</id><published>2005-10-30T22:13:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T22:22:20.656-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Microcontos estatísticos</title><content type='html'>A estatística parece fria. Mas seu vocabulário pode incendiar nossa imaginação. Leiam os microcontos que seguem e vejam se não tenho razão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1011. Ela ficou molhadinha quando o professor anunciou a nova matéria: correlação múltipla. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1012. Conservador, ele nunca foi além das medidas de tendência central. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1013. Quando finalmente compreendeu o conceito de curva normal, ela começou a fazer regime. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1014. O moralista adora calcular  desvio padrão. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1015. O velho pesquisador sempre acha um motivo para trabalhar com ANOVA. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1016. Solange, nos tempos da ditadura, quis proibir intervalos de classe em livros de estatística. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1017. Como faz média, o estatístico não é levado a sério. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1018. Perua, na mediana, ficou feliz ao saber que estava também na moda. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1019. Co-variam harmoniosamente, ambos sempre chegam juntos ao orgasmo. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1020. Desenha histogramas, mas sonha que é arquiteto de edifícios da Avenida Paulista. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113071814065346838?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113071814065346838/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113071814065346838' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113071814065346838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113071814065346838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/microcontos-estatsticos.html' title='Microcontos estatísticos'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113071754079755156</id><published>2005-10-30T22:06:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T22:12:20.823-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Eliane pós 1000</title><content type='html'>Numa série sobre desencontros, nossa amiga Eliane - atualmente em Angola - volta a comparecer para ajudar na pós meta dos mil e tantos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1007. Desculpem-me, mas em terra de cego quem tem um olho continua caolho. (Eliane Camargo)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1008. Cada um mais doido que o outro, ali o melhorzinho gritava na frente dos clientes. (Eliane Camargo)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1009. Olhou sem saber se ria ou se chorava, por fim chorou de tanto rir. ( Eliane Camargo)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1010. Cirurgião adora cara feia, é sempre um cliente potencial. (Eliane Camargo)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113071754079755156?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113071754079755156/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113071754079755156' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113071754079755156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113071754079755156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/eliane-ps-1000.html' title='Eliane pós 1000'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113052260483372204</id><published>2005-10-28T15:51:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-28T16:03:24.856-02:00</updated><title type='text'>MIL E TANTOS</title><content type='html'>Continuo a me lembrar de histórias da roça. Mesmo depois dos mil feitos, as velhas coisas da vida sertaneja continuam a insistir em lembranças do meu tempo de menino. Publico aqui algumas delas para mostrar que mil é pouco. Podemos sonhar com mil e tantos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1001. Corajoso, o menino sai à noite para o terreiro  e enfrenta a assombração que assusta sua mãe. (j. novelino)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1002. O moleque espera quieto que o busca-pé vá atrás de alguém mais afobado. (j. novelino)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1003. Segunda ela lavou os cabelos com sabão de cinza. Sábado vai ser seu primeiro baile. (j. novelino)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1004. O capado, muito gordo, gritava sem parar. A faca, muito curta, não chegava até o coração do bicho. (j. novelino)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1005. Ele carrega a cartucheira antes de ir conversar com o vizinho que toca a mesma lição de sanfona sem parar. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1006. Não sabe dançar. Por isso foge de todos os ternos de congada na semana do Natal. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113052260483372204?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113052260483372204/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113052260483372204' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113052260483372204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113052260483372204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/mil-e-tantos.html' title='MIL E TANTOS'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113016086264130116</id><published>2005-10-24T11:22:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T17:49:35.796-02:00</updated><title type='text'>MIL. É MIL! MIL.</title><content type='html'>Chegamos. É mil. Mil microcontos. E, como verão, a milésima história não comemora, pois com ela cessa o desafio. Por outro lado, mil histórias não é pouca coisa não. Quando o Zeca propôs esse desafio achei que a meta seria muito mais difícil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No processo, descobrimos novos autores, e todos aprenderam a escrever grandes histórias sem gastar muitas letras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assim, apesar do tom de fim de festa da história mil, precisamos comemorar mil vezes o nosso feito. Parabéns para todos nós.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,153,0);font-size:180%;" &gt;1000&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,153,0);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tinham uma meta. Mil. Melhor se não tivessem, continuariam.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,153,0);font-size:180%;" &gt;(Senir Fernandez)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113016086264130116?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113016086264130116/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113016086264130116' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113016086264130116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113016086264130116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/mil-mil-mil.html' title='MIL. É MIL! MIL.'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113015990247827858</id><published>2005-10-24T11:09:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T15:41:29.416-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Senir: 997. 998, 999.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;997. Estavam no meio. Da vida. Do oceano. Da mata. Dividiram tudo meio a meio, num quarto. (Senir Fernandez)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;998. Eram atletas. Era tudo ou nada. Ela não foi e ficou, contudo. Ele nadador, nada. (Senir Fernandez)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;999.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Era só o começo, enfim.&lt;br /&gt;Ela queria, ele queria&lt;br /&gt;Mas teve um tropeço, e fim. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Senir Fernandez)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113015990247827858?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113015990247827858/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113015990247827858' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113015990247827858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113015990247827858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/senir-997-998-999.html' title='Senir: 997. 998, 999.'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113015929042176127</id><published>2005-10-24T11:03:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T11:08:10.423-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Novelino no 996</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;996. Com qualquer roupa, sempre se veste para passar uma mensagem: "me chamem de gostosa". (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113015929042176127?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113015929042176127/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113015929042176127' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113015929042176127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113015929042176127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/novelino-no-996.html' title='Novelino no 996'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113015861098209555</id><published>2005-10-24T10:53:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T11:00:27.840-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Com mais três do Chico: 995.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;993. Eu disse SIM para confirmar o NÃO. Mas ganhou o NÃO que significava um SIM. É a contradição pacífica desta guerra. (Chico de Moraes)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;994. A menina bonita usava um boné rosa e tinha a alma tão pura como só as muito safadas conseguem ter. (Chico de Moraes)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;995. Chovia. Metade do céu era iluminada por uma lua cheia de chamar lobisomem. Na outra metade, brilhavam relâmpagos que ligavam trovões. No iPod, jazz. (Chico de Moraes)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113015861098209555?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113015861098209555/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113015861098209555' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113015861098209555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113015861098209555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/com-mais-trs-do-chico-995.html' title='Com mais três do Chico: 995.'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113015822053057244</id><published>2005-10-24T10:48:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T10:50:20.540-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Zeca no 992</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;992.  Não podia dar certo. Era diretor da cheche mas chama-se Herodes. (Zeca Ildefonso)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113015822053057244?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113015822053057244/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113015822053057244' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113015822053057244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113015822053057244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/zeca-no-992.html' title='Zeca no 992'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113010440162933665</id><published>2005-10-23T19:47:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T19:53:21.630-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma novena</title><content type='html'>Senhores autores e senhoras autoras, chegamos à prova dos nove. Com novas regras: nove dentro, bingo! O milhar está logo ali. São precisos apenas mais nove contos. Procurem musas e musos. Rezem uma novena. E me mandem uma história. Umazinha só. Não deixemos os mil contos para novembro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113010440162933665?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113010440162933665/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113010440162933665' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113010440162933665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113010440162933665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/uma-novena.html' title='Uma novena'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113010343814159242</id><published>2005-10-23T19:30:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T19:41:03.903-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pelarin no 991</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/1600/flores.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/200/flores.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;991. Piscina, boa companhia, caipirinha de vodka, tira-gostos variados. Tudo perfeito. Só faltou o sol. (P. Pelarin)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113010343814159242?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113010343814159242/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113010343814159242' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113010343814159242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113010343814159242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/pelarin-no-991.html' title='Pelarin no 991'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113001964407665131</id><published>2005-10-22T20:04:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-22T20:25:16.320-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Meta dos dez</title><content type='html'>Temos nova meta: dez microcontos. Os autores não precisam mandar uma dezena. Basta uma simples unidade. Tá na hora do Senir, Pelarin, Chico, Gil, Zezé, Kuller e outros mais mandarem pelo menos unzinho. Caso os autores habituais e com direito a numeração não comparecerem, apelo aos convidados para darem uma mão. Se não pudermos alcançar a meta logo, espero que a Fátima, o Júlio, o Luis e demais leitores-autores mandem alguma história para que a gente possa manter uma média de duas ou três postagens semanais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: um levantamento informal junto a meus alunos e dados da Folha de hoje me mostraram que o SIM vai perder amanhã. Uma pena! Vamos ter de esperar muitos anos ainda para alcançar um pouco mais de civilização com o banimento de armas de fogo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113001964407665131?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113001964407665131/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113001964407665131' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113001964407665131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113001964407665131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/meta-dos-dez.html' title='Meta dos dez'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-113001857503025926</id><published>2005-10-22T19:58:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-22T20:02:55.040-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais uma história da roça</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;990. Ramos bentos queimam na porta da cozinha. Dona Nenê encolhe-se perto do rabo do fogão e reza para escapar dos raios. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-113001857503025926?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/113001857503025926/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=113001857503025926' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113001857503025926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/113001857503025926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/mais-uma-histria-da-roa.html' title='Mais uma história da roça'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112981474450481263</id><published>2005-10-20T11:23:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-20T11:25:44.516-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cena política</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;989. O velho militante está perplexo. Antes, enganos fonéticos igualavam PT a PP. Agora, ambos os partidos são um mesmo ente semântico. (j. novelino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112981474450481263?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112981474450481263/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112981474450481263' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112981474450481263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112981474450481263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/cena-poltica.html' title='Cena política'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112972674630605393</id><published>2005-10-19T10:56:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T10:59:06.326-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Microcontos deprês</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;987. Após o derrame, as lembranças ruins ainda o perseguem apesar da perda total de memória. (j. novelino)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;988. Voltou do velório. Está feliz. Morreu sua última paixão não resolvida. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112972674630605393?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112972674630605393/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112972674630605393' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112972674630605393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112972674630605393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/microcontos-deprs.html' title='Microcontos deprês'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112965412610880263</id><published>2005-10-18T14:36:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T14:48:46.126-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Guima manda três histórias</title><content type='html'>Nosso amigo Guima cometeu seus três primeiros microcontos. Na mensagem de remessa alega que se embaraça com as letras e não sabe muito bem se pegou direito a idéia. Como vêem, o rapaz é um poço de auto-crítica. Mas deixemos de prosa, interessam aqui as histórias mínimas do Guima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;984. Ele, como professor, sempre foi muito otimista e dizia: se eles não aprenderem, não se preocupem; burro não aprende, acostuma. (Sebastião Gimarães)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;985. Como pai, ele era muito prático. Aconselhava os filhos: "explorem os amigos, os inimigos não nos deixam". (Sebastião Guimarães)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;986. Não gosto do que fazem os políticos. Gosto mais do meu gato.  Ele faz melhor e, ainda, joga terra por cima. (Sebastião Guimarães)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112965412610880263?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112965412610880263/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112965412610880263' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112965412610880263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112965412610880263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/guima-manda-trs-histrias.html' title='Guima manda três histórias'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112958699865389876</id><published>2005-10-17T19:58:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T21:06:48.593-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma dezena de Don Pablo</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;974. Sonhava coisas tão lindas! Os lençóis amanheciam úmidos de desenhos surrealistas. (Pablo Rico)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;975. O bebê engoliu a gelatina e fez cara de choro. Era um produto dietético consumido pela mãe. (Pablo Rico)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;976. Desenhava cenários com grande habilidade, mas na hora de pegar no batente mudava de firma. Apresentava-se como consultor. (Pablo Rico)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;977. Recebeu duas chicotadas na lomba. Deleitou-se. Com mais um par de bofetadas teria atingido o orgasmo. (Pablo Rico)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;978. Foi visitá-lo. Estava todo coberto com um lençol branco. Voltou arrependido de ter ido. (Pablo Rico)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;979. Na sua quase primeira vez, aos 13 anos, ficou desconcertado. Ela pediu que ele falasse coisas românticas ao ouvido. (Pablo Rico)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;980. Entre urina, sangue e fezes vens ao mundo - falou o profeta carrancudo. Nada, porém, que um bom banho não resolva. (Pablo Rico)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;981. Fez sucesso entre as terráqueas com seu membro flexível mas consistente como uma tromba de elefante. (Pablo Rico)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;982. O bem criou raízes no mal. Ficou impossível separá-los na hora da colheita. (Pablo Rico)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;983. Passava das cinco. Teria seu amor partido de trem? Voltaria trazendo-lhe o cheiro da terra visitada? (Pablo Rico)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://erasmus.futuro.usp.br/webmail/src/read_body.php?passed_id=20563&amp;ent_id=1&amp;amp;mailbox=INBOX&amp;sort=6&amp;amp;startMessage=1&amp;show_more=0&amp;amp;passed_ent_id=0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112958699865389876?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112958699865389876/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112958699865389876' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112958699865389876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112958699865389876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/uma-dezena-de-don-pablo.html' title='Uma dezena de Don Pablo'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112955506468972536</id><published>2005-10-17T11:12:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T11:17:44.703-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Novo velho amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;973. Sua nova paixão é uma memória de quarenta anos. Mas a foto dela está irremediavelmente perdida. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112955506468972536?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112955506468972536/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112955506468972536' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112955506468972536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112955506468972536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/novo-velho-amor.html' title='Novo velho amor'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112950276497318516</id><published>2005-10-16T20:07:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T20:49:53.040-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Em busca dos autores perdidos</title><content type='html'>Mais de vinte autores qualificados para produzirem MC's com o objetivo de chegar a um conjunto de mil e poucas histórias mínimas frequentam este blog. Há, é claro, mais gente que preenche os requisitos de autores com direitos plenos. Ontem, por exemplo, encontrei o Guima (Sebastião Guimarães), companheiro de muitos anos no Senac e autor de diversos livros técnicos e de algumas histórias de ficção científica. Convoquei-o para a tarefa. Vamos ver se ele comparece. De qualquer forma, se alguém quiser incentivá-lo, aqui vai a direção de e-mail dele: &lt;a href="mailto:guimaraes@tgtreinamento.com.br"&gt;guimaraes@tgtreinamento.com.br&lt;/a&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Além do Guima, existem outros autores que ainda não compareceram . O Daólio, por exemplo. Será que o Senir tem como fazer contato com ele?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente, os autores que já frequentaram este espaço precisam continuar a comparecer com mais microcontos. Caso contrário terminaremos nossa história na casa dos novecentos contos. Única vantagem: acho que isso pode ser tema de um conto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Contistas com mais de mil histórias resolvem parar de escrever para não chegarem à meta; o que eles sempre quiseram foi perseguir, não atingir o objetivo de um milhar de contos. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Pena que essa história não possa ser contada na conta dos mil contos, ela tem mais de 150 caracteres!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112950276497318516?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112950276497318516/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112950276497318516' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112950276497318516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112950276497318516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/em-busca-dos-autores-perdidos.html' title='Em busca dos autores perdidos'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112950011624196308</id><published>2005-10-16T19:57:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T20:01:56.240-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Perdidos num mar de informação</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/1600/PROCED.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/400/PROCED.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112950011624196308?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112950011624196308/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112950011624196308' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112950011624196308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112950011624196308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/perdidos-num-mar-de-informao.html' title='Perdidos num mar de informação'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112949976646100853</id><published>2005-10-16T19:52:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T14:35:43.846-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Especialidades médicas</title><content type='html'>Para não ficar num minguado acréscimo de apenas mais um MC neste fim de semana, vai aqui uma outra história:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;972. O oftalmologista quis ser clínico geral quando se pôs a examinar aquela loira gostosa. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112949976646100853?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112949976646100853/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112949976646100853' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112949976646100853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112949976646100853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/especialidades-mdicas.html' title='Especialidades médicas'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112943515579605459</id><published>2005-10-16T01:56:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T01:59:15.796-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Frango Assado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/1600/boneco.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6256/638/400/boneco.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112943515579605459?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112943515579605459/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112943515579605459' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112943515579605459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112943515579605459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/frango-assado.html' title='Frango Assado'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112943464489250943</id><published>2005-10-16T01:49:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T01:50:44.903-02:00</updated><title type='text'>On the road</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;971. Tem uma estranha mania: vai sempre ao Frango Assado para flertar as galinhas que por lá aparecem. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112943464489250943?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112943464489250943/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112943464489250943' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112943464489250943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112943464489250943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/on-road.html' title='On the road'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112895786948949179</id><published>2005-10-10T12:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T12:24:29.490-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Outras quatro histórias da roça</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;967. Agora o menino tem onde guardar seus tesouros;  achou uma lata vazia de Toddy. (j. novelino) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;968. Preferem passar fome.  O estômago embrulha  assim que sentem o cheiro da comida que a mãe &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;trouxe da casa da patroa.  (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;969. Invernou. A chuva já dura três dias. Eles não têm mais uma muda de roupa seca. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;970. Ele troca uma ferroada de marimbondo-chapéu por dez ferroadas de marimbondo-chumbinho. E ainda leva vantagem. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112895786948949179?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112895786948949179/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112895786948949179' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112895786948949179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112895786948949179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/outras-quatro-histrias-da-roa.html' title='Outras quatro histórias da roça'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112895706979169563</id><published>2005-10-10T12:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T12:13:28.793-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Nova dezena do Seabra</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;957. No emprego o ambiente era estressante; tinha que fazer média o dia todo. Pra compensar, na padaria sempre pedia em copos separados o café e o leite. (C. Seabra)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;958. Seu Ermelindo roncava tão alto que ele mesmo em seus sonhos não conseguia dormir.&lt;br /&gt;(C. Seabra)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;959. Desde a contratação do novo salva-vidas, aquele rapagão forte, os casos atendimentos de socorro na praia tinham aumentado imensamente. (C. Seabra)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;960. O pequeno órfão da rua busca a mãe em qualquer um que lhe estenda a mão e procura o pai em todos os que lhe dão o pão. (C. Seabra)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;961. Noite após noite, ela escapou da decapitação. Mil e uma vezes teceu mundos com sua&lt;br /&gt;narração. (C. Seabra)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;962. Os decapitados andavam sobre as mãos ou arrastavam-se de joelhos. Era um pesadelo sem pés nem cabeça. (C. Seabra)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;963. Maria Rita arrancou os olhos de sua boneca. No lugar colocou os que tirou do irmão. (C. Seabra)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;964. Numa tarde sem vento, de onde vinham tantas ondas naquele lago calmo? Um bote com dois namorados fornecia, mudo, todas as respostas. (C. Seabra)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;965. Arlete esperava o avião. Todos foram pousando, só o de seu namorado não. (C. Seabra)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;966. O ministro da economia vivia com prisão de ventre mas recusava-se, por princípio, a tomar laxante. (C. Seabra)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112895706979169563?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112895706979169563/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112895706979169563' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112895706979169563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112895706979169563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/nova-dezena-do-seabra.html' title='Nova dezena do Seabra'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112895663575170974</id><published>2005-10-10T11:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T19:49:24.016-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinco do Zé Kuller</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;952. Mandacaru fulorou na serra. Menina, pensa em namorar. A vó não deixa. Moça, namorou muito. Hoje vigia, com um pouco de saudade, a neta a namorar. (Zé Kuller)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;953. Antes era o herói. Depois deixou de perguntar sobre a vida. Perdeu-se no mundo. Lembra-se sempre dela. Gostaria de voltar o ser o seu brinquedo preferido. (Zé Kuller)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;954. Falava-se da cena de sangue em um bar da São João. Voltou-se. Ela estava entrando. Sabia que era o último encontro. (Zé Kuller)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;955. No dia do pagamento a sua carteira foi roubada. Foi com ela a fotografia do primeiro amor. Foi cara a perda da lembrança do passado. (Zé Kuller)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;956. Tudo em detalhes! O olhar, o anseio, o beijo, o toque. Depois a cama e o esquecimento. Ela nunca mais voltou. (Zé Kuller)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112895663575170974?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112895663575170974/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112895663575170974' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112895663575170974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112895663575170974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/cinco-do-z-kuller.html' title='Cinco do Zé Kuller'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112837419219310267</id><published>2005-10-03T18:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T22:45:11.446-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Senhor de respeito na Internet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;951. Ele pensou duas vezes antes de entrar naquele site. Sua esposa poderia chegar a qualquer momento. (Chico de Moraes)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112837419219310267?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112837419219310267/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112837419219310267' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112837419219310267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112837419219310267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/senhor-de-respeito-na-internet.html' title='Senhor de respeito na Internet'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112837375457587821</id><published>2005-10-03T18:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T18:10:13.130-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic dragon caipira</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;950. Nóis bebe e cai. Mas se nóis fumo, nóis viaja. (Senir Fernandes)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112837375457587821?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112837375457587821/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112837375457587821' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112837375457587821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112837375457587821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/magic-dragon-caipira.html' title='Magic dragon caipira'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112836284480438015</id><published>2005-10-03T15:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T18:04:00.880-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais histórias da roça</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;942. Enquanto apanha algodão, ela sonha com um vestido de seda que nunca terá. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;943. O patrão agora paga salário. Mas inventou de cobrar pela tapera onde moro, levando metade do ganho em aluguel. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;945. De cócoras, ele pica um fumo e assunta o tempo. Está com jeito de chuva; o feijão pode apodrecer no pé. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;946. Era muito bonita. Não quis apanhar café e casar-se menina. Foi fazer a vida na zona da Rua do Comércio. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;947. Quebrou milho o dia inteiro. O carinho de sua mão cansada e grossa fere o rosto do menino mais novo. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;948. A cesta pendurada na travessa do teto acomoda mais um de seus filhos, o quinto a não ter berço. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;949. O anil não consegue disfarçar a origem do tecido de suas calças de menino pobre: um saco de farinha. (j. novelino)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112836284480438015?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112836284480438015/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112836284480438015' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112836284480438015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112836284480438015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/mais-histrias-da-roa.html' title='Mais histórias da roça'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12743768.post-112836242331430337</id><published>2005-10-03T14:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T15:01:53.620-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Zezé cinematográfica</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;939. Uma idéia na cabeça. Uma câmera na mão. Uma merda na tela. (Zezé Pina)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;940. Seu João nunca entrou num cinema, porém sabe de cor os sucessos da temporada. Os saquinhos de pipoca vendidos não lhe deixam nenhuma dúvida. (Zezé Pina)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;941. Era a primeira vez que iam ao cinema. Quis impressionar a garota, escolheu um filme chinês sem legendas. Nunca mais se viram. (Zezé Pina)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12743768-112836242331430337?l=terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/feeds/112836242331430337/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12743768&amp;postID=112836242331430337' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112836242331430337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12743768/posts/default/112836242331430337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terceirosmicrocontos.blogspot.com/2005/10/zez-cinematogrfica.html' title='Zezé cinematográfica'/><author><name>Jarbas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04350486341247513452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WXar8pK7l1U/SaW8pmb3fjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/baG-_hjAzzM/S220/jarbas-128.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
