tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-345411072024-03-13T23:32:06.011+02:00FirimerituriSome beauty a day keeps the dark thoughts awaymerimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.comBlogger154125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-4110158035926718822008-11-24T21:48:00.004+02:002008-11-24T21:54:31.833+02:00De dragoste animaliera<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images-eu.amazon.com/images/P/B00004RM85.03.LZZZZZZZ.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 475px;" src="http://images-eu.amazon.com/images/P/B00004RM85.03.LZZZZZZZ.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="tr <meta equiv=" type="" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMaria%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C08%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapelayout ext="edit"> <o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"> </o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--> </a><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://colegiul-cosbuc-abuzuri-buciu-ilinca.blogspot.com/">vai, domnule sfincter, cat aplomb, cata dedicatie, cate minciuni si josnicii. ce conduita admirabila!
<br /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://colegiul-cosbuc-abuzuri-buciu-ilinca.blogspot.com/">
<br /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Stimate domn Sfincter,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunteti o floare, sunteti un crin,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">procesomanul cel mai fin! </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Vai, cata melodrama, ce mincinoasa poama! </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Penibilul<span style=""> </span>sublim!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Minciuna cu toptanul, cu carul si cu anul,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Fantasme mari umflate si bine-nsailate,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Lucrate la gherghef!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Procese verbale, atacuri feline,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Copii-ntra cincea spalati pe creier bine!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ochi de camere pe holuri va tot urmaresc,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Si nu-i vina casetei, faptele-va chiar graiesc!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Copii in prag de bac ajunsi abia la domnitori,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Doar nu tre’ sa va faceti treaba cu niste mici putori!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Doar sa-i chemati la ‘pregatire’ in vacanta, </p> <p class="MsoNormal">in weekend, dupa ore,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ca sunteti domn si tata, tovaras tradittore!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Asa-i e chiar legal sa defaimati pe cineva,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sa puneti dulci-afise pe holuri hop-s-asa,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sa acuzati inexistente si nedovedite abuzuri sexuale,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sa reprosati mamelor bune ca-s niste animale!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">E chiar in regula, ca la sedinte, sa umiliti parinti,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">S-aduceti in consiliu copii buni si cuminti,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sa scadeti la purtare note pe nemeritate,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Pentru ca s-a indraznit sa vi se sufle-n spate!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Scumpule domn Sfincter</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunteti ca bunul FBI,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Spioni in fiece clasa va poarta cu alai,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Si cand te-ntreaba psihiatrul pe-al carui scaun stai,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">N-ai nici grandomanie, nici paranoia, n-ai!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Nu, domle', toata lumea te vrea chiar rastignit,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ca un Isus pe cruce, ce mult a patimit.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Si unul cate unul, cu totii stau si comploteaza,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Cum sa te tot aseze pe-un jilt electric cu speteaza!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sa te parleasca cu nesat ca pe-un godac,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Pentru masa de Craciun gatiti mumos in frac?!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Asa-i, cam asta-i adevarul, mult indragit dement,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Nimeni nu te doreste-n acest stabiliment!</p> merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-27938282157233810912008-07-18T11:26:00.004+03:002008-07-18T12:04:14.913+03:00CafegioaiceAm fost lovita in plex cu leapsa <a href="http://lenebarbie.wordpress.com/">Irinei L'ene </a>care a fost atat de dragalasa incat m-a ademenit s-arat lumii din ce-mi sob eu cafeaua zi de zi de zi de zi.<br /> Aveam o poza mai demult pe calculator cu o pisica cu fata de buldogareasca care zicea: "Before my morning coffee, I might as well be a dog." Asa hop si eu. Recunosc ca-i un viciu de nestapanit, un moft cat se poate de bine hranit si un obicei la fel de constant cu indesatul telecomenzii in frigider. (La mine in casa acolo se pare ca-i e locul).<br />Pozele un pic mai tarzior[sa se incarce aparatul], pentru ca marturisesc cu rusine in ochi ca nu sunt o utilizatoare fidea a unei singure cani, biroul meu este un cupboard populat de leitiere, canute, canoaie, halbe etc intrucat consum cantitati hipopotamice de lichide. Si totusi am motatele mele preferate. Disdedimineata sorb soarele la rasarit si racoarea din oase dintr-o cana de portelan chinezesc cu niste cerculete albastre burtoasa ca o statuie a fertilitatii, dar gratioasa ca o demoazela gravida, lucioasa, vesela si suflata cu crem pe dinauntru.<br />Daca fac la grasse matinee [ceea ce-n vacanta de lucru se-ntampla adesea cu muierustile pe care le mai traduc pe-o parte si pe alta] am doua variante: cana cu dungi multicolore care ma duce cu gandul la o ikea de prin alte tari si cana de Korond cu flori si volute albastre. La ceaiul de dupa-amiaza am o cana stil teracota comunista austera maro pamantiu cu o banda gri sus, ca o vaza de prin anii saizeci.<br />Insa parol d'honneur ca obiceiurile de-acasa nu se potrivesc cu cele din targ. Cafelele mele preferate sunt cele populate cu prieteni si prietene asezonate cu carti bune sau carti de joc. Cu barfe aburinde, cu filozofari dupa petreceri cu dancefloor tocit, cafelele de trezire din dulcea betie, cafelele mahmurite cand incerci sa-ti pui cap la cap evenimentele noptii. Cafelele la spirtiera si primus in the middle of nowhere pe o plaja cu nisip prafuit leganata intr-un hamac cu inca vreo patru zgribuliti in saci pe langa tine cu focul decusara fumegand.<br />Cafeaua insingurata are cu totul alt gust doamnele si domnii mei decat cafelele populate, ghicite, furate, clandestine, chiulite.<br />Si-am atatea povesti cu cafele incat voi face o colectie ici blogospherique.<br />Prima va fi despre cafelele verzi chiulangioace. O secunda, s'il vous plait?merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-19246344262025674142008-03-18T07:59:00.003+02:002008-12-13T05:51:26.140+02:00Leapsa si nesilita de nimeni<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2w2_5w_W5ULDeuPrRgZPa6ZWpkl3qXFZffw1BqDk1NuEPBpfMSKDo0RdP90eNmSIAc15plgM_vH5ho_QVy-87rIJWDchXKIwsRPKGmNjga9h_bPbl7RPyXvbQ-4Igzk3CTqLXQ/s1600-h/24250101_oz.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2w2_5w_W5ULDeuPrRgZPa6ZWpkl3qXFZffw1BqDk1NuEPBpfMSKDo0RdP90eNmSIAc15plgM_vH5ho_QVy-87rIJWDchXKIwsRPKGmNjga9h_bPbl7RPyXvbQ-4Igzk3CTqLXQ/s320/24250101_oz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178962238418633986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Niste piscoturi lepsesti ca doar nu mai aveam vreme de scris si de gandit. :P<br />Dar de facut pe laudaroasa, desigur...</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><br /><br /><br />01) Bought everyone in the pub a drink</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">02) Swam with wild dolphins</span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">03) Climbed a mountain</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">04) Taken a Ferrari for a test drive</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">05) Been inside the Great Pyramid</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">06) Held a tarantula.<br /><strong>07) Taken a candlelit bath with someone </strong></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">08) Said ‘I love you’ and meant it </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">09) Hugged a tree</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>10) Done a striptease</strong><br />11) Bungee jumped</span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">12) Visited Paris </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">13) Watched a lightning storm at sea</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">14) Stayed up all night long, and watch the sun rise</span><br />15) Seen the Northern Lights</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >16) Gone to a huge sports game </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">17) Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >18) Grown and eaten your own vegetables</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">19) Touched an iceberg</span><br /></strong><span style="font-weight: bold;">20) Slept under the stars </span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >21) Changed a baby’s diaper</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">22) Taken a trip in a hot air balloon</span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">23) Watched a meteor shower</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">24) Gotten drunk on champagne</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>25) Given more than you can afford to charity<br /></strong>26) Looked up at the night sky through a telescope </span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">27) Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">28) Had a food fight </span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">29) Bet on a winning horse</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">30) Taken a sick day when you’re not ill</span><br />31) Asked out a stranger </span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">32) Had a snowball fight</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">33) Photocopied your bottom on the office photocopier</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>34) Screamed as loudly as you possibly can</strong><br />35) Held a lamb </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">36) Enacted a favorite fantasy</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >37) Taken a midnight skinny dip</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">38) Taken an ice cold bath<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">39) Had a meaningful conversation with a beggar</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>40) Seen a total eclipse</strong></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">41) Ridden a roller coaster </span></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">42) Hit a home run</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">43) Fit three weeks miraculously into three days</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">44) Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking </span></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">45) Adopted an accent for an entire day </span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>46) Visited the birthplace of your ancestors</strong></span></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">47) Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment</span></strong><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >48) Had two hard drives for your computer </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">49) Visited all 50 states of USA<br /><strong>50) Loved your job for all accounts</strong></span><strong><br /></strong><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >51) Taken care of someone who was shit faced </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>52) Had enough money to be truly satisfied</strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>53) Had amazing friends</strong></span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">54) Danced with a stranger in a foreign country </span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">55) Watched wild whales</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >56) Stolen a sign</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">57) Backpacked in Europe </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>58) Taken a road-trip<br /></strong>59) Rock climbing </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">60) Lied to foreign government’s official in that country to avoid notice<br /><strong>61) Midnight walk on the beach</strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">62) Sky diving</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">63) Visited Ireland</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>64) Been heartbroken longer then you were actually in love</strong> </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong style="font-weight: normal;">65) In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them</strong><br />66) Visited Japan</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">67) Benchpressed your own weight</span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">68) Milked a cow</span></strong><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >69) Alphabetized your records </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">70) Pretended to be a superhero</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">71) Sung karaoke </span></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">72) Lounged around in bed all day</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">73) Posed nude in front of strangers</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">74) Scuba diving</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">75) Got it on to “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye</span><br /><strong>76) Kissed in the rain </strong></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">77) Played in the mud</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">78) Played in the rain</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">79) Gone to a drive-in theater</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >80) Done something you should regret, but don’t regret it </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">81) Visited the Great Wall of China</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>82) Discovered that someone who’s not supposed to have known about your blog has discovered your blog.<br /></strong>83) Dropped Windows in favor of something better </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">84) Started a business</span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">85) Fallen in love and not had your heart broken</span></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">86) Toured ancient sites</span></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">87) Taken a martial arts class</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">88) Sword fought for the honor of a woman</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">89) Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight<br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">90) Gotten engaged</strong></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">91) Been in a movie </span></strong><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >92) Crashed a party </span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">93) Loved someone you shouldn’t have</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>94) Kissed someone so passionately it made them dizzy</strong><br />95) Gotten married</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">96) Had sex at the office</span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">97) Gone without food for 5 days</span></strong><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >98) Made cookies from scratch </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong style="font-weight: normal;">99) Won first prize in a costume contest</strong><br />100) Ridden a gondola in Venice</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">101) Gotten a tattoo</span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">102) Found that the texture of some materials can turn you on </span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">103) Gotten divorced </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">104) Been on television news programs as an “expert” </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>105) Got flowers for no reason</strong><br />106) Masturbated in a public place </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >107) Got so drunk you don’t remember anything</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >108) Taken illegal drugs</span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">109) Performed on stage</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">110) Been to Las Vegas</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong style="font-weight: normal;">111) Recorded music</strong><br /><strong>112) Eaten shark</strong></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >113) Had a one-night stand</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">114) Gone to Thailand</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">115) Seen Siouxsie live</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">116) Bought a house </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong style="font-weight: normal;">117) Been in a combat zone</strong><br />118) Buried one/both of your parents</span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">119) Shaved or waxed your pubic hair off</span></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">120) Been on a cruise ship</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">121) Spoken more than one language fluently</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">122) Gotten into a fight while attempting to defend someone</span><br />123) Bounced a check</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">124) Performed in Rocky Horror</span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">125) Read - and understood - your credit report</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">126) Raised children.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">127) Recently bought and played with a favorite childhood toy.</span><br />128) Followed your favorite band/singer on tour</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">129) Created and named your own constellation of stars</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">130) Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">1<span style="font-weight: bold;">31) Found out something significant that your ancestors did</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">132) Called or written your Congress person</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong style="font-weight: normal;">133) Picked up and moved to another city to just start over</strong><br />134) …more than once? - More than twice?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">135) Walked the Golden Gate Bridge</span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">136) Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">137) Had an abortion or your female partner did</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong style="font-weight: normal;">138) Had plastic surgery</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: bold;">139) Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived</strong><span style="font-weight: bold;">.</span> </span><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">140) Wrote articles for a large publication</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">141) Lost over 100 pounds</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >142) Held someone while they were having a flashback</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">143) Piloted an airplane</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">144) Petted a stingray<br /><strong>145) Broken someone’s heart </strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">146) Helped an animal give birth</span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">147) Been fired or laid off from a job</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">148) Won money on a T.V. game show</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">149) Broken a bone</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">150) Killed a human being<br />151) Gone on an African photo safari</span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">152) Ridden a motorcycle</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">153) Driven any land vehicle at a speed of greater than 100 mph</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">154) Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>155) Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol</strong><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">156) Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">157) Ridden a horse</span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">158) Had major surgery</span></strong><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >159) Had sex on a moving train </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">160) Had a snake as a pet</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">161) Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon<br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">162) Slept through an entire flight: takeoff, flight, and landing</strong></span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">163) Slept for more than 30 hours</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">164) Visited lots of foreign countries</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">165) Visited all 7 continents</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">166) Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">167) Eaten kangaroo meat</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">168) Fallen in love at an ancient Mayan burial ground<br />169) Been a sperm or egg donor</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>170) Eaten sushi</strong><br /><strong>171) Had your picture in the newspaper</strong></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >172) Had 2 (or more) healthy romantic relationships for over a year in your lifetime</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>173) Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about</strong><br />174) Gotten someone fired for their actions </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >175) Gone back to school</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">176) Parasailed</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">177) Changed your name</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">178) Petted a cockroach </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">179) Eaten fried green tomatoes.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>180) Read The Iliad</strong><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">181) Selected one “important” author who you missed in school, and read</span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >182) Dined in a restaurant and stolen silverware, plates, cups because your apartment needed them</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">183) …and gotten 86′ed from the restaurant because you did it so many times, they figured out it was you</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >184) Taught yourself an art from scratch </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">185) Killed and prepared an animal for eating </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >186) Apologized to someone years after inflicting the hurt </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">187) Skipped all your school reunions<br /><strong>188) Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language</strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">189) Been elected to public office</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">190) Written your own computer language</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>191) Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream</strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">192) Had to put someone you love into hospice care</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >193) Built your own PC from parts </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">194) Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you<br />195) Had a booth at a street fair </span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:130%;">196) Dyed your hair </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">197) Been a DJ</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">198) Found out someone was going to dump you via LiveJournal</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">199) Written your own role playing game </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">200) Been arrested.</span>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-42293204056486730992007-12-13T09:12:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:26.298+02:00Incurcata Treaba<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvihZS95NysL1lKqaJL4Mzuyvn53STUlL4Suv3o6rP4xaQeYPUacsY8L6Y5rjl3cMQ09c3nsSGhTGvN2jbJKtDYeqzPxomKWyl1wNFdCEksFgdL_cpmIBfVk2P4W0wZYmI5DvHQg/s1600-h/048.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvihZS95NysL1lKqaJL4Mzuyvn53STUlL4Suv3o6rP4xaQeYPUacsY8L6Y5rjl3cMQ09c3nsSGhTGvN2jbJKtDYeqzPxomKWyl1wNFdCEksFgdL_cpmIBfVk2P4W0wZYmI5DvHQg/s320/048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143359355940974194" border="0" /></a><br />In loc de "remember when you were only a child" eu inteleg "remember when you were an only child": Analyze that!<br /><br /><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/merimeri/4f89dfa2f873c7"></script><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript">show_4f89dfa2f873c7(448, 46);</script><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Remember when you were only a child</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Remember when you were only a child </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Remember when you were only a child</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Start to see with your blue mind </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Start to see with your blue mind</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Don't be afraid of what you find </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">No, don't be afraid of what you find</span></span><br /><br />Chiar ma gandesc ca are de-a face cu gelozia de sora mai mare deposed din ale sale drepturi pe vremea cand aveam 1 an si 3 luni. Ce ti-e si cu boala asta viermuita si putreda! Si cu zentrul atentiei si cu persoana intai egoista, mereu ti se pare ca nu ti s-a cautat destul in coarne, ca tre sa overdo it, ca ai ceva de demonstrat lumii intregi, vrei sa-ti fie recunoscute ego-forturile!<br /><br />Mereu esti intr-o competitie si trebuie in sabii sa te tai sau in palose sa te scuturi. Puah, cel mai frica de mine pe lumea asta e cand ma iau in serios si<br /><br />Ma umflu in cucuie, pene si defecte,<br />burdihane, lacrimi si bube infecte.<br />Luatu-n serios si prapastiile cascate<br />-s boli teribile,<br />Molipsitoare de damzelle,<br />triste si sensibile.<br />Ce stau in iatacuri si-si cauta-n plete,<br />Rani imaginare, deprezdii cochete,<br />Zac in lunga zeama.<br />Pe printesele-astea tare fandosite<br />Pauvres chinuite de boli inchipuite,<br />Farlifus le cheama,<br />Mari, zau, mi-e teama,<br />Sa nu ma preschimb<br />in vruna din ele,<br />Sa-mpletesc vreun nimb,<br />Sa rup la pingele,<br />Ca direct pe copca<br />o sa ma cam duc<br />Si ma interna-veti,<br />Drept la balamuc!merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-16948589375118404552007-12-08T20:51:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:26.768+02:00Tril de lene<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg02mUDABPlX-OVUSfIeXVnkFE7KFqM7F2zRR5NOdcIu7z10M-gUBcaKoiU6mNX7hIpKNuIaco8QCq2DKT4AQ4NVBSLuHmQCuRNm2Zuuq2dAMlzEGUw8mpPflM8GIgj2lHk4b8WGw/s1600-h/106033588_167d811702.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg02mUDABPlX-OVUSfIeXVnkFE7KFqM7F2zRR5NOdcIu7z10M-gUBcaKoiU6mNX7hIpKNuIaco8QCq2DKT4AQ4NVBSLuHmQCuRNm2Zuuq2dAMlzEGUw8mpPflM8GIgj2lHk4b8WGw/s320/106033588_167d811702.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142233258465635938" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">dragostea noastra e-o pereche de sosete<br />colorate, calduroase si indispens-abile<br />cand se strang una-ntralta jilave si bete<br />cepele carnoase imbratisate-n bile.<br /><br />si de-ti vine uratul intr-o zi ploioasa<br />zaci sub plampumi grele si cu ceai in casa,<br />poti oricand sa-ti plimbi perechea de sosete<br />intr-o reprezentatie de marionete!<br /><br />cateodata dara din dragostea ceasta<br />iese si-un cartof,<br />care se cam plimba sprinten prin pantof.<br />ca sa nu mai zburde-asa in libertate<br />peticim si coasem cu urzeli pupate!<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Poaza culeasa <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/tofuttibreak/106033588/">de-aci</a><br /></div>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-41819657734364269162007-12-08T08:57:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:26.925+02:00Si-acum va prezentam datele meteo:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yHLm-M2yXM-as6pGZJLgojpYzMvFThcinXkR_IvTHdr5U_CX0KhP3HC2zKWKhA0UfUyF67-xqDzqIelh1ajt36Pspq_L5vHXX6YI0LI1eug_CtAPjZqwLmVpa4wN8OeHoiOyew/s1600-h/53f7c3b2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yHLm-M2yXM-as6pGZJLgojpYzMvFThcinXkR_IvTHdr5U_CX0KhP3HC2zKWKhA0UfUyF67-xqDzqIelh1ajt36Pspq_L5vHXX6YI0LI1eug_CtAPjZqwLmVpa4wN8OeHoiOyew/s320/53f7c3b2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141505974473535042" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Imprumutand masca lui Emil Brumaru, se prognozeaza ca:<br /><br />"E-o vreme de distrus flasnete"<br />De cautat adanc (mai abitir) prin ghete,<br />De urmarit prin deasa ceata coapte fete<br />De-mpuns la norii curgatori, obraznici<br />rotunzi cu ascutite baionete.<br /><br />E-o vreme de tinut in palme<br />doi ochi alunecosi din maini fierbinti,<br />De inganat din omusor, mari, sudalme,<br />Cu limba-mpleticita printre dinti.<br /><br />E-o vreme ca de Dickens la-nceputuri<br />De Londra-n ghearele demonului: Fum Nehalitul,<br />Si personaje date-afara din culcus in suturi,<br />De spintecat tristeturi pe funduri cu cutitul.merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-73762469108023678402007-11-30T23:33:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:27.179+02:00Balada celor 3 cu 3 si-un pic<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_SeoeN5tFm9KF5ri5zFUG_Cfg_P0u6XNgWK5ApPBr-yvKHYJLIawBrHJ4qRT7Jb1PY6PEZddLcNMWQ1AvFmpSBMh-5vYPam1ADK9RDksL_1QXfAD5olFENvvaL5udpap1inhlQQ/s1600-h/TimesGEBusB10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_SeoeN5tFm9KF5ri5zFUG_Cfg_P0u6XNgWK5ApPBr-yvKHYJLIawBrHJ4qRT7Jb1PY6PEZddLcNMWQ1AvFmpSBMh-5vYPam1ADK9RDksL_1QXfAD5olFENvvaL5udpap1inhlQQ/s320/TimesGEBusB10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140958572301725234" border="0" /></a><br />Apai cred ca era cazul sa ma strecor afara dintr-un razboi de tesut metanii si tristeturi arvunite de imaginatia bogata, voi nu?<br />Dapai pen' ca toti ce ma inconjoara urasc aftabuzele si transportul in comun, m-am hotarat sa-mpart povestile mele frumoase cu arcele lui Goe, poarcele lui Zoe, potroacele de Poe... Condurii mei farmecati care ma poarta spre o lume de liniste sufleteasca chitita-n balamuc si-n vacarm. Eu cred ca 331 e fermecat, un Knight Bus care-ti sare-n ajutor. E molcom dimineata si prinde aripi noaptea, e cald si aburind iarna ca o farfurie cu supa pe roti. Ticsit din cap pana-n picioare cu norod de toate culorile si etatile. Tremura ca o piftie cand merge repede si mugeste din frane prin fata casei mele fara perdea. Si cand ma urc in el imi vine sa traiesc. Acum conitelor si conilor stimati ce-mi mai calcati poate pragul, dar luxul asta static de a citi cu jumatatile de ora in mijloc de oameni, de a vedea soarele cum se iteste piste Aleea Kisseleff promenada infofolita-n copaci si-n biciclete nocturne cu ghidoane din coarne de berbec care-mpung trecatorii, ii mare lucru, parol. Sa ai timp sa stai la stopuri si sa privesti oamenii din masinile de pe langa cum conduc cu ochii carpiti si gesticuleaza pe muzica de dimineata, cu galgaie cafelele si se varsa in poalele lor costumate de sedinta. Sa vezi cravate legate la stop cu sarg si muierusti <span style="font-style: italic;">bleached </span>care spoiesc retrovizorul. Mame permanentate rastindu-se la odrasle incinse cu centuri de siguranta care-si baga destele-n nas falanga cu falanga. Ehehei, fatul meu, oare tu o sa mai ai timp de asta? Sa te zgaiesti la frunzele de toamna cum cad din picoare de oboseala, la asfaltul care naduseste vara si curge jilav pe piatra cubica....Noaptea cu alei goale din spatele Casei Scanteii cand ies melcii de mana la sosea si studentele cu fuste scurte de la internat. Sa mirosi prin geamuri primavara cand accidentele de masina picteaza carosabilul.<br />Aveti putintica rabdare, stimabililor....<br />Si cum ii naravul stapanei piticilor, va face prinsoare ca va zice de-acusi incolo-sha pana i s-or istovi izvoarele povesti coapte sau necoapte, minaciuni de Vonnegut (soma) su adevaraciuni curate ca lamura si impanate cu visul lui Parpanghel si bufonii lui Dimov.<br /><br />Balada celor 3 cu 3 si-un pic<br /><br />Sa tot fie, mari, 4 ani de zile<br />De cand umblu-aiurea: falfai din papile,<br />Manc din peisaje, ascult la tarana,<br />Dantez in viraje, tin urechea-n mana,<br />Sorb de prin asfalturi, rup din conversatii,<br />Pasc litere-n falduri, nu cobor in statii,<br />Cuvinte flecare le insir pe loc,<br />Dau cu derbedeii zburdalnic noroc;<br />Fac dresaj cu sfichiul de bici impletit<br />Din bucati de limba pentru nesimtit.<br />Zau de plec de-acasa, daca am uitat,<br />Goblenul si acul, rasul capiat.<br />Sa brodez schelete de istorisiri,<br />Pasol na turbinka, ca ma-ntorc cu zbiri!<br />Trei voinici din cifre, aftabuze albe,<br />glasuiti acuma ca m-intorc cu jalbe<br />protapite bine pe picior de UE;<br />Fartate, cenzura-mi e nitel cam suie!<br />Iertare domnita daca am uitat<br />sa sarut condurul cesta lung si lat.<br /><br />Du-ma 331 un la rascruce mare,<br />Cu artere-adanci brazde pe ogoare.merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-31366401593662058042007-11-23T09:25:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:27.307+02:00Ingropata in cuvinte<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSv6p3Xuic0cp38QUE6SNW9k3c7MdkYyrlw5eC-zeqs27dbSISLNfoV6NquBa7_0sQ8DnCHahNL3Xb0FKAUkuWt1tkgO6TliSFvgvcb9IU32WOyHm586dpeeb1rlNC_V1lNn4cOg/s1600-h/Images_Online_081952.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSv6p3Xuic0cp38QUE6SNW9k3c7MdkYyrlw5eC-zeqs27dbSISLNfoV6NquBa7_0sQ8DnCHahNL3Xb0FKAUkuWt1tkgO6TliSFvgvcb9IU32WOyHm586dpeeb1rlNC_V1lNn4cOg/s320/Images_Online_081952.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135941986479783634" border="0" /></a><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;"> S-au intors frumusetile... Au inceput sa iasa de sub pietre ca soparlele la soare...<br />Mi se bat cuvintele ca turcii la gura.<br /></span>Chefurile se ridica din frunze de ceai, ideile se destrabaleaza in scris in camarute inguste si friguroase, intre rafturi de carti si postere scorojite cu irlanda si sfinti medievali. De-abia imi mai tin cuvintele pe mine sa nu cada pe foaie (asa de infofolita-s) despre cam ce-am cercetat in ultima vreme si cum am iesit din <span style="font-style: italic;">gaura de iad </span>care m-a inghitit o vreme.<br /><br /> Am siroit pe langa dop in pivnita de limbi straine pana am inteles ce cautam si mi-am dat seama ca lucrurile citite mereu se imbina in jurul lucrului meu preferat din lume. Se brodeaza jocuri, ironii, fericiri, amaraciuni, reguli de joc, chei care deschid imparatii de ganduri, cosite aruncate din turnuri ca niste fuioare toarse si daruri ale scriitorilor pe care le descoperi dupa luni de taina cu cartile inchise. Multumescuti domnule Carroll ca m-ai adus inapoi la vechea-mi cercetare in tainele placerii in joc si ghicitoare, care n-are a face cu bine si rau, ci mai degraba cu placere si chin, care-s binecuvantari/blesteme mai importante si mai interesante in literatura.merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-38957413257271654192007-11-20T07:59:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:27.499+02:00Torte mustind de bezna<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihysHs7V1222Z-DDGfZi-HJQHK_Opt1k_qtYVgPL4ssKE6jPArdp_2A9ZDxu_p86YnduFpmty-JM38zBhXDTwM1u0EE5yTwpl8G7NlHooB5pBAZb5cWGUe9sxicKXoiUWkHNPexQ/s1600-h/e2b8962a30a23b4fbe51f005b2f1538f03654969.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihysHs7V1222Z-DDGfZi-HJQHK_Opt1k_qtYVgPL4ssKE6jPArdp_2A9ZDxu_p86YnduFpmty-JM38zBhXDTwM1u0EE5yTwpl8G7NlHooB5pBAZb5cWGUe9sxicKXoiUWkHNPexQ/s320/e2b8962a30a23b4fbe51f005b2f1538f03654969.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134798666185588418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Genţiene de Bavaria<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;"><u1:p><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Nu fitecine are parte de genţiene-n a sa casă<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">În molcomul Septembre, la linul, mohoratul Michaelmas.<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;"><u1:p><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Genţiene de Bavaria, mari, albastre ca-nserarea, fuioare de beznă<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Care cotropesc chiar ziua, precum o torţă face cu-albastrul ei de fum<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">atuncea când coboară peste-al lui Pluto alean,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Torţe unduitoare arzând întunecat cu albastră flamă,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Ce-n puncte apăsate se preschimbă, strânse-n îmbrăţişarea zilei dalbe,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Florile-torţe ale întunericului celui albastru şi adânc de fum,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Ale uimirii lui Pluto albastru-nserate,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Lămpi mustind de beznă aninate-n încăperile De-Apoi, <o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">arzând-albastru de-nserat,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Şi răspândind al întunericului braţ, albastru de-înserat, la fel cum<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Din palidele lămpi a lui Demetra lumina aievea-izvoade.<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Conduce-ţi-mă, dară, păşiţi degrab’ în faţă.<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;"><u1:p><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Culege-mi o genţiană, adă-o torţă!<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Să rătăcesc doar cu-albastra torţă-furcă ‘cestei flori,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">În jos pe scările cu beznă din ce în ce mai deasă, <o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">acolo unde albastrul e întunecat cu-albastru<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">şi-acolo unde calcă Persefona, acum, să trec din îngheţat’ septembre<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">către tărâmul de orbire unde chiar întunericul în beznă deasă se trezeşte,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Şi Persefona însăşi rămâne doar o voce<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">Sau întunericul ce se răsfiră în beznă şi mai deasă<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">în braţele plutonice, pătrunsă adânc de patima amară în neştire,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">învăluiţi pesemne în falnica mândrie a torţelor de întuneric, <o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 1.75in;">ce arunc-un văl de<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> beznă peste mireasa blestemată şi-al său mire.merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-91585388578778435902007-11-20T07:57:00.001+02:002008-12-13T05:51:27.667+02:00Darkness drenched torches<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGz-psdQKEICw-mY5sMe6aZZD3_QSLGzM866MRnfOCFnQufuHFT2sSZMftTAGcNZA7TP13gycGOOlWJ0NzOpr5-SP33fjAjcIzo4SE3PAhFLNuVY4818wXkiXeO-ELae6RYHUHNg/s1600-h/rossetti42.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 350px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGz-psdQKEICw-mY5sMe6aZZD3_QSLGzM866MRnfOCFnQufuHFT2sSZMftTAGcNZA7TP13gycGOOlWJ0NzOpr5-SP33fjAjcIzo4SE3PAhFLNuVY4818wXkiXeO-ELae6RYHUHNg/s320/rossetti42.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134797987580755634" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Bavarian Gentians<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal"><u1:p><span style=""> </span><i>by D.H. Lawrence</i><o:p></o:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not every man has gentians in his house<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">in soft September, at slow, sad Michaelmas.<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal"><u1:p><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">darkening the daytime, torch-like, with the smoking blueness of Pluto's<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">gloom,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">ribbed and torch-like, with their blaze of darkness spread blue<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of white day<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto's dark-blue daze,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter's pale lamps give off<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">light,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">lead me then, lead the way.<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal"><u1:p><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></u1:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Reach me a gentian, give me a torch!<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of this flower<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">even where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted September<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">to the sightless realm where darkness is awake upon the dark<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">and Persephone herself is but a voice<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">or a darkness invisible enfolded in the deeper dark<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">of the arms Plutonic, and pierced with the passion of dense gloom,<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">among the splendor of torches of darkness, shedding darkness on<o:p></o:p></p> <u1:p></u1:p> <p class="MsoNormal">the lost bride and her groom.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <pre><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-left: 42pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><!--[endif]--></pre><pre><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></pre><span><br /></span>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-15104618604990752512007-11-20T07:34:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:27.928+02:00Ce greu e sa scoti un dop de sampanie!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0rQEWkW2TS9UU5GE0zUxrzBC_n3ds1VeZ10mqEn0ztl1EgXPozUySONSO1rNDhRT8iTffEm1YVZEoOUrTL2ASdRjO6vxvu66mFXalQcqklsshAVRI8RKhT_vvul9Og9pSTej_Q/s1600-h/hiperion.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0rQEWkW2TS9UU5GE0zUxrzBC_n3ds1VeZ10mqEn0ztl1EgXPozUySONSO1rNDhRT8iTffEm1YVZEoOUrTL2ASdRjO6vxvu66mFXalQcqklsshAVRI8RKhT_vvul9Og9pSTej_Q/s320/hiperion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134794208009535122" border="0" /></a><br />Mi s-a pus un fel de dop sub care nici nu se mai vad bulele care mi se agita prin stomac si plamani si cutremurele care mi se cuibaresc la subsuoara. E epidemie de noduri marinaresti la mine in gat, cercetasii si matelotii si-au facut ceva de lucru la ele.<br /><br />E tare ciudat cum ca nu mai pot scrie. Nu mi s-a mai intamplat in veci sa nu pot sa insir macar doua-trei margele pe siragul din Cuvantul Micromoale.<br />Imi vine sa dansez deasupra tastelor si sa scuip sau sa scurm din cuvintele incalzite prin pulovere si cotloane infofolite ale sufletului. Si nu ma asculta picioarele, mainile mi se impleticesc, limba se innoada. Poate dac-o iau catinel, ca-n exercitiul acela de la actorie unde trebuie sa te ridici de pe un scaun atat de incet cat celalalt sa nu te vada, si scriu ticait, ascuns si putin o sa curg pe langa dop, fara sa se prinda gheonoaia sub presiune.<br />Am sa merg cu putin de-a busile,<br />fluierand si mugind din toate gusile<br />(si tatanile),<br />si cu mana dezvatata am sa man de litera baltata,<br />Pana se asterne la pascut pe blog cocotata.<br /><br /><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/merimeri/a52731786f24c5"></script><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript">show_a52731786f24c5(448, 46);</script><br /><br />Vino, vino, mos Nene care ma dai in scrinciobul impletit din fir de gene!<br /><br /><div style="font-style: italic;" id="title">Those Dancing Days Are Gone </div> <div style="font-style: italic;" id="artist">Carla Bruni </div> <div style="font-style: italic;" id="lyrics">[William Butler Yeats]<br /><br />Come, let me sing into your ear;<br />Those dancing days are gone,<br />All that silk and satin gear;<br />Crouch upon a stone,<br />Wrapping that foul body up<br />In as foul a rag:<br />I carry the sun in a golden cup.<br />The moon in a silver bag.<br />I carry the sun in a golden cup.<br />The moon in a silver bag.<br /><br />Curse as you may I sing it through;<br />What matter if the knave<br />That the most could pleasure you,<br />The children that he gave,<br />Are somewhere sleeping like a top<br />Under a marble flag?<br />I carry the sun in a golden cup.<br />The moon in a silver bag.<br />I carry the sun in a golden cup.<br />The moon in a silver bag.<br /><br />I thought it out this very day.<br />Noon upon the clock,<br />A man may put pretence away<br />Who leans upon a stick,<br />May sing, and sing until he drop,<br />Whether to maid or hag:<br />I carry the sun in a golden cup,<br />The moon in a silver bag.<br />I carry the sun in a golden cup.<br />The moon in a silver bag. </div>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-10127811996294565912007-09-24T13:30:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:28.069+02:00Dama ludens si alte traznai<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ILGxf_krFhY6Kw0_zJRf5Rh0mTjX1w9UL-GwUZRHLM4fZY4U_2WPxR9TjgOh5i1BAwrfWcsSsl8iBZ6rZxS5KpLCxsN16SmBh6r1ywJieUUvum_sOXaZoYaWcQrBGnFjWVVF7A/s1600-h/pinky_brain.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ILGxf_krFhY6Kw0_zJRf5Rh0mTjX1w9UL-GwUZRHLM4fZY4U_2WPxR9TjgOh5i1BAwrfWcsSsl8iBZ6rZxS5KpLCxsN16SmBh6r1ywJieUUvum_sOXaZoYaWcQrBGnFjWVVF7A/s320/pinky_brain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113812391272970866" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://gavagai.ro/blog/">PF gavagai</a> mi-a aruncat pisica-n ograda cu o nonsalanta ce-i sade bine unui dumnezeu de talia sa. Asadar m-am ales cu o leapsa si inca un oaspete de burlan mieunand sacaitor, si trebe sa trag piticii de coada sa scuipe degrab' cu ce se ocupa stapana lor in frageda-i pruncie si ce victime facea printre jucarii. Numai ca adesea alaturi cu trup si suflet si sora mea Alexe, camarada vajnica si neinfricata, my trusty sidecick.<br /><br />1. Consemnarea cea mai timpurie din epopeea boacanelor Marievei este, joaca cu papiota de ata. La aproximativ un an cu totul si cu totul, Meri, se gasea poponet in fata unui falnic brad de Craciun garnisit cu cadouri si cu globuri numai bune de spart, beteala numai buna de facut lasou, ace de brad numai bune de ingurgitat si lumanari perfecte pentru a da foc la casa, insa departe de ea asemeni ganduri prevestitoare unei copilarii tarzii unde porecla urma sa-i fie cu precadere "Capul Rautatilor". O, nu, intr-unul din rarele ei accese constructive, Meri, desira o papiota cu ata rosie tacticos si cu daruire. Aceasta isi dadu obstescul sfarsit cateva ore mai tarziu cand zacea incalcita si incolacita in jurul piciorului de la fotoliul mare, pe covorul persan chel, in jurul bradului... Patimile papiotei au fost consemnate in caiet cu o bunavointa buniceasca din cale afara de stapanita si cu o caligrafie perfecta, citite cu aplomb sau chiar recitate de aceeasi bunica cu diverse ocazii festive. Vorbim de aceeasi persoana care cu greu a putut depasi socul ca la varsta de 18 ani sleahta mea de prieteni a rupt o coada de topor...si a trebuit sa spuna aceasta poveste mai departe la fiecare masa in familie de-atunci incoace. [ei, nu chiar]<br /><br />2. Din ciclul promovat asiduu de Roald Dahl si de The Twits, copii sunt niste incornorati si pisicheri, varsta de 4 ani, respectiv 3 ani, doua fetite imbracate in salopete OshKosh inarmate cu o mana de creioane cerate crayola crestate de dinti de lapte si tocite pe varii foi de desenat, au declansat operatiunea Muppets. In sufragerie, deasupra patului bunicii care servea si de divan, atarna un tablou urias abstract cu mult maro roscat si niste linii nesigure, contururi complexe. Deloc sensibile la maiestria autorului, in urma unui consiliu in care yours truly a tinut un monolog patetic si manipulator catre sora (pe atunci) mezina, in care a convins-o ca un desen cu Big Bird si Elmo ar fi fost numai bun sa decoreze portiunea de perete galbui dintre tablou si studio. Zis si facut, cele doua vajnice artiste, au dat nastere unei mazgaleli simbolice, stil naiv, cu multiple curbe si depasiri de contur in nuante de galben-pui si rosu-carmin utilizand cele mai groase creioane cerate [care epuizandu-se si rupandu-se din cauza zelului, au trebuit suplimentate si cu verde si albastru]. De prisos, sa mentionez, ca adevaratele talente mereu sunt batute la popou de viata si pedepsite sa nu se mai atinga de ciocolata ascunsa in camara [a carei ascunzatoare fusese descoperita in urma unei misiuni de recunoastere]. Slava domnului ca in ziua urmatoare am reusit sa-mi ciobesc nitel teasta [exagerare poetica pentru o zgarietura], patandu-mi pijamaua cu trandafirasi si intalnindu-ma de urgenta cu doamna Pruna, doctorita, astfel pedeapsa fu ridicata la scurt timp. Urme ale talentului nostru incontestabil au mai ramas desigur, daca vreun vizitator binevoieste sa zgarie nitel spoiala, va descoperi ghemotocul de Muppets incovrigati de manuta noastra.<br /><br />3. Cu-ocazia rudelor care s-au impachetat cu catel si cu purcel, s-au inghesuit in valize mari de piele si si-au luat campii rostogolindu-se in burta valizelor [asa-mi imaginam eu ca se procedeaza cand pleci din tara], Alexe si cu mine am fost rasfatate cu cadouri din strainezia indestulator. The crux of the matter era totusi ca oamenii care ne vedeau odata la 3 ani, isi imaginau ca eram fetite si ne jucam cu papusi, si ce alta papusa mai grozava decat Barbie cea blonda si cu chiloti de plastic tare. Ain't that cute? But it's wrong. Junele pristine fara sutien care aruncau ocheade ingenue sub boiala discreta au avut o soarta crunta in mainile duoului dinamic: am impartit metodele de tortura astfel ca eu ma ocupam de decapitarea orataniilor si de stilizarea podoabei capilare, mereu adoptand atitudinea dalilei fata de samson, iar Alexe avea in grija mestecarea plasticului cauciucos din care erau facute picioarele pana la cioturile albe din interior, tot ea era responsabila cu decoratiunile cu pixul: ochelari de soare, barba, mustati, cercei... De educatia fizica pentru papusile maltratate, ne ocupam in egala masura, fie ca erau zboruri dirijate din mainile uneia spre ale celelalte sau salturi mortale din patul suprapus. Odata ciuntele au facut chiar si bungee-jumping de la mansarda [cam pe la inaltimea etajului doi al unei vile] legate cu o franghie din cravate innodate, de multe ori nimerind in strada [pe care nu treceau prea multe masini], daca nu cu totul, macar cu capul proaspat indesat la loc pe umeri. Na, poftim, sa mai ziceti de copii ca-s ingerasi si neprihaniti! [Nu, nu era vina televizorului, pentru ca nu prea binevoiam sa ne uitam, antena de pe casa nu prindea mare branza. Insa cartile lui Roald Dahl ne erau biblii].<br /><br />4. Sa nu credeti oare ca n-am batut mingea pe maidanul cartierului Aviatorilor. O, si inca cum. Alta jucarie de seama pentru noi au fost gardurile si zidurile. Si "Fatzea" [hihi v-ati ascunselea] was our game. Eram o sleahta de cateva fete si niscai baieti, o armata intreaga care se tupila prin curtile oamenilor de pe Strada Popa Savu, Porumbaru, Virgil Draghiceanu, Aleea Aviatorilor. Cu genunchi juliti, acoperiti de praf, coate pline de semne de buna purtare, tricouri hais, shorturi cea, lipaiam pe traseele noastre secrete care ne duceau de pe o strada pe alta [era o serie de strazi tricotate paralel], saream garduri, ne cataram in copaci, aruncam evident cate-un ochi pe geamurile pe langa care treceam. Ce mai niste mici infractori care umblau in haite. Demn de mentionat ar fi si ca un asemenea joc lua cateva ore bune si de multe ori, pentru ca locul unde se punea cel blestemat la a ne cauta prin tot cartierul era fix pe zidul casei mele, cand numara, ramaneam ultima si urcam in casa unde imbucam ceva bine-mersi, deschideam o carte si asteptam sa treaca cam o ora, aruncam un ochi pe geam sa vad daca "plimba ursul" bietul copil care se punea si daca nu se vedea prin apropiere, coboram ca un jaguar cele 2 etaje si scuipam ca o donsoara ce ma aflam.<br /><br />Acuma desigur ca mai aveam miliarde de alte jucarii pe care le jughineam in voie, dar acestea sunt cele mai importante si cu grea inima nu l-am bagat in top pe elefantul Gogo, datorita caruia am zis eu primul meu cuvant (ca sa nu bag zazanie intre mama si tata), sau calculatorul care-mi crestea in brate si ma invaluia in jocurile sale cu grafica proasta sau fara grafica deloc [din cauza lui Prehistoric II am spart spaceul de la tastatura], cartile cu care dormeam sub perna [apoi ma miram ca ma doare spatele si grumazul] etc.<br />Cu amintirea asta cu picioare de tarantula, va las sa va savurati lunea si poate sa rupeti bucatica din amintiri si boieri dumneavoastra. Pe-asta o dau la liber ca doar n-o fi obligatie, ci placere sa starui printre hatisurile jucariilor. :P<br /><br />Micul infractor pescuit de pe <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94073986@N00/161187701/">flickr</a>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-89111154946426499502007-09-17T19:22:00.001+02:002007-09-17T20:11:38.160+02:00Lemn dulce<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.doriegreenspan.com/photos/uncategorized/licorice_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.doriegreenspan.com/photos/uncategorized/licorice_2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Cazuta de pe rafturile de pe prichiciul geamului, deschisa cu degete infrigurate, prins sonetul de ureche si ascultat ticaitul, smotruit cu degetele cantande pe tastatura, intortocheat in cvartete de coarde ale lui Haydn, cantec de adormit piticii care astazi implinesc precis un an de cand si-au smuls semintele din haul gurii mele internetice. Piticii care au crescut intr-un an cat altii in sapte zile, care mugit, au scancit, au dantzuit, au glasuit, au incretit din nas, si si-au dezvelit dintii inspumati, s-au betivanit din cuvinte, li s-a urcat la cap si au motait intr-o rana la marginea drumului cu doape in urechi de multe ori. Piticii far' de numar ce mi-au arat tarlaua creierului si mi-au ingrijit vorbele ca ata lenesului, le-au taiat ca niste Norne si le-au shtuchit cand li s-au parut vulgare ca pe cojile de seminte de dovleac.<br />Eh, piticilor mei underage plantati in faldurile [putintele] ale creierului meu, le canta conu' Shake la drum de sara, cu miros de regina noptii si alte perdele de vanilie ca miroaznele ce te lovesc <span style="font-style: italic;">in the wake of </span>vreo tzoapa intocata.<br /><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;"> Sonnet 128</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">With thy sweet fingers, when thou gntly sway'st</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">To kiss the tender inward of your hand,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">To be so tickled, they would change their state</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And situation with those dancing chips,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Making dead wood more blest than lips.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.<br /><br />Poza sterpelita de pe <a href="http://www.doriegreenspan.com/dorie_greenspan/potluck_posts/index.htm">blogul aista</a><br /></span>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-44823143200232560252007-09-15T13:26:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:28.279+02:00In the beginning there was the word<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqwpg7E3aYgMiXS_LzTixSASYafhRQUGoHKm99TXwqls8rhIB9bkZ_UM72DZ4RNO13a6Zna5RLCf_bnygca_e4_hSiPekZZPPY3FDw6NfkKOMffW9G1NYE-uQmLqfRXCKdhyaMA/s1600-h/danger.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqwpg7E3aYgMiXS_LzTixSASYafhRQUGoHKm99TXwqls8rhIB9bkZ_UM72DZ4RNO13a6Zna5RLCf_bnygca_e4_hSiPekZZPPY3FDw6NfkKOMffW9G1NYE-uQmLqfRXCKdhyaMA/s320/danger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110398871789778114" border="0" /></a>Aşa se face cǎ aproape în fiecare zi sunt martorǎ a unei minuni blogǎristice: <p class="MsoNormal">Când mǎ întorc cu spatele şi ţin ochii strâns închişi mai apare câte un text în google reader care sǎ mǎ îmbrǎţişeze în cuvintele sale şi sǎ mǎ legene fǎrǎ pretenţii şi fǎrǎ obsesia popularitǎţii, a îmbuibǎrii cititorului inutil cu reclame şi ştiri preluate de pe 100 de siteuri. Cum se deschid ele în ferestre micuţe unde le pot înghiţi ca pe şerbetul insuliţelor de apǎ.:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://rapireadinserai.blogspot.com/">Zaza, condei fǎrǎ fund</a>, <a href="http://ummagumma.weblog.ro/">Umma cu arabescurile ei de cuvinte</a>, <a href="http://oregonstate.edu/%7Edogaruc/mahalaua/">Vlad cu micile sale metafizicalitǎţi</a>, <a href="http://www.gavagai.ro/blog">Gavagai cu turbinca sa plinǎ ochi de povestioare</a>, <a href="http://www.moara-lu-bunicu.ro/suzi">Suzi curgândǎ</a>, <a href="http://uvedenrode.blogspot.com/">Vio cascadândǎ,</a> <a href="http://cronice.wordpress.com/">Corcoran şi Roza decupând câte-un clin de l’oeil bruxellez</a> şi <a href="http://umrissaufdemasphalt.blogspot.com/">Domnul Cavaler pe care-l aduce vântul de prin toate zǎrile literare în Bucureşti,</a> <a href="http://masa-pustie.blogspot.com/">Hiacint cu visele ei de-o generozitate şi gingǎşie nemaivǎzutǎ</a>, <a href="http://amoralul.blogspot.com/">Amoralul cu jocurile lui care câteodatǎ mǎ enerveazǎ, dar mereu mǎ ţin în şah</a>, <a href="http://memorii-bizantine.weblog.ro/">Abd’Allah cu pulpanele sutanei sale de “scholar”</a>, <a href="http://blog.mostly-harmless.ro/">Jen cu sinceritatea dezarmantǎ</a>, <a href="http://poemix.blogspot.com/">Iulian Tǎnase baletând suprarealist şi (în)cununat de poze</a>, <a href="http://luciat.wordpress.com/">Luciat din pricina cǎreia poftesc la cǎrţi mai ceva ca o gravidǎ, rǎsturnarea cǎruţei corpului în poziţii dizgraţioase</a>, <a href="http://www.jeg.ro/">cu gura cǎscatǎ pânǎ la urechi la posturile lui Darius</a>, <a href="http://monicaspune.blogspot.com/">Monica şi înverşunarea ei fǎţǎ de cuvinte ciunge</a>, <a href="http://suggestionboxes.blogspot.com/">ranturile rǎutǎcioase ale Anei Utopic</a>, <a href="http://hobbitul.blogspot.com/">observaţiile pro-hobbitive ale lui Emil Brumaru</a>, sau avalanşa de veşti de la prieteni care-şi varsǎ simţirile pe câte-o paginǎ a lor.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Doar nu credeaţi cǎ-i ţin la blogroll din politeţe? Sau cǎ-i fac gazetǎ de pǎrete? </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Enfin, capriciile piticilor sunt cunoscute, de multe ori aceştia nu aduc în bot cuvinte demne de blog şi nu se lǎfǎie printre limbi slobode şi ascuţite împreunate cu minţi treze şi ciomage bune de cârpit pe spate propoziţii. Şi când piticii îşi varsǎ cuvintele PMSian îmi trag capa de invizibilitate pe cap şi bag capul la cutie şi strâng din fǎlci şi îmi umplu gura cu vatǎ de zahar[Dac-aţi vedea ce cutie mişto am, cu broderii medievale şi gargui de pazǎ. Am şi clopotniţǎ plinǎ de bâte de baseball, de unde şi expresia inglejilor “she has bats in her belfry”].</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Pam Pam...</p>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-56316025236544366282007-09-12T18:04:00.000+02:002007-09-13T10:32:02.310+02:00De-ale gurii, de-ale ochilorLa caldura cuvintele se usuca si se chircesc, se imbolnavesc, se inneaca in apa din stomac, si in sudoarea care curge garla, se tarasc ca prin desert sau se incurca in par.<br /><br />Si cand se face frig si gurile se deschid ca sa indese inauntru mancari, rasar din osanza cuvinte si oamenii vorbesc cu gura plina din tot corpul.<br /><br />Acum c-am lamurit astea nitel mi-am prins antenele ochilor in campania de promovare a bibliotecii metropolitane careia ii zicea Ion Creanga cand eram eu mica si pe care am devalizat-o grav de tot Jules Verne-ul pe care-l aveau ei si eu nu in vacanta dintre a doua si a treia<br />[Apoi am facut indigestie de domnul Iulica si nici nu mai vreau sa aud de dansul], apoi am cules cartea copilariei mele din ea Omul Amfibie... si alte asemenea nazdravanii. Cert e ca locul e dragut si renovat si primitor, mare diferenta de rafturile pline de praf de 2 degete si cartile ferfenita pentru copii cu coperte in ruseste.<br />Oamenii astia au in plan cresterea unei biblioteci sonore pentru ambliopi o idee cel putin draguta si misto. Cica or sa aiba si un festival si un concurs de poezie cu toate acadelele si acareturile trebuincioase unei biblioteci frumoase.<br />Blogul lor e piarisit si plin de afise de promovare pentru doritori, e prietenos si e tanar si mie ,una, imi face pofta s-o vizitez.<br />Pasol, na turbinka!<br />Dau si cu link droppingul imediat si cu afisul aratos de mai jos:<br /><br />Ladies and gentlemen,<br /><a href="http://bibliotecametropolitana.wordpress.com/">Tadaaam</a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bibliotecametropolitana.files.wordpress.com/2007/08/popcornbook.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://bibliotecametropolitana.files.wordpress.com/2007/08/popcornbook.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-57961412012720338232007-09-11T18:16:00.000+02:002007-09-11T18:49:51.252+02:00Scufita Rosie,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.thecinemasource.com/moviesdb/images/Hard_Candy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.thecinemasource.com/moviesdb/images/Hard_Candy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Ce-ai in cosulet?<br />Vorba bancului: Nu stiu, stai sa vad [urmeaza gestul caracteristic adolescentin...]<br /><br /><br />Iesprimari/Nosprimari/Susprimari/Josprimari<br /><br />Mi-e cosul pieptului plin de soapte<br />Care se invart si ma gadila<br />cu nuiele si pene<br />ca sa tusesc,<br />dar eu nu ma las.<br /><br />Stiu ca sunt putinele cuvinte<br />pe care le-am inghitit<br />pentru ca<br />nu le credeam<br />vrednice.<br /><br />Multe injuraturi uscate<br />si adevaruri cu vopseaua<br />inca uda<br />care n-au mai<br />ajuns: sa indoaie<br />buzele,<br /><br />sa miste limba,<br />sa ridice omusorul,<br />sa faca saliva,<br />sa se scurga,<br />sa clipeasca din ochi,<br />sa intinda muschii<br />obrajilor,<br />sa increteasca radacina<br />nasului.<br /><br />Se fugaresc una pe alta<br />printre alveole<br />si cu manute la care<br />orice mamica constiincioasa<br />ar stramba din nas<br />incearca sa mituiasca traheea<br />arunca in stanga si-n dreapta cu<br />dolari, lei [cu coame ca spicu'<br />de grau], yeni si ioroi...<br />doar, doar s-o milostivi de ei<br />vreo coarda vocala.<br /><br />Ntttz! Zice coarda<br />rezonand grav<br />de arama,<br />Cu nasul pe sus:<br />Vulgarelor, directelor,<br />Badaranelor!<br />"Mars-napoi in marsh"<br />Adica "mlastina" da'<br />coarda-i poliglota<br />si high-strung.<br /><br />S-asa ma aleg cu<br />tropaituri in cosul<br />pieptului,<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">taceori vopsite</span>,<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>delicatesuri de cuvinte,<br />vorbe cripti-citite<br />si un balot de<br />zgalambaieli<br />blogaite.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-29195732665252679812007-09-11T11:03:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:28.602+02:00TelegrafiateCa nu-l mai deschisesem de mult pe omul care-mi ridica firele de par de pe ceafa si le impleteste in mii de culori, I give thee,<br />*drumroll*<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oOQlaWubL9EZhAOjGdHkcpK6BrBW0NfpAZ1yXcv3v5qgXkCkcRyQegxR4q_H5mtYLNxKLluCkCm9C_bbTQf0kV75vJ1NCJJ48aWCOor_e0JaQjAV8CU53TqMkd9wBrlGvy26Kw/s1600-h/garden_party_by_ewe_ewe.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oOQlaWubL9EZhAOjGdHkcpK6BrBW0NfpAZ1yXcv3v5qgXkCkcRyQegxR4q_H5mtYLNxKLluCkCm9C_bbTQf0kV75vJ1NCJJ48aWCOor_e0JaQjAV8CU53TqMkd9wBrlGvy26Kw/s320/garden_party_by_ewe_ewe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108871949863286178" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Triunghiul Bermudelor<br /> de Gellu Naum<br /><br />Acum cand ploaia ma imbratiseaza cu "umeda ei voluptate"<br /> ma gandesc la fata aceea<br />pierduta de mult cine stie pe unde<br />fata care picta flori de camp si intorcea panzele cu fata la zis<br /> ca sa nu le vad si sa nu ma infurii<br />fireste ca ne e frig ne murdarim cu pamant si ne raan<br />prea multe radacini prea incalcite Ar trebui pana una alta sa<br /> ma adapostesc undeva sa ma curat cu peria de scanduri<br />ar trebui sa spun ceva niste cuvinte dar stiti bine ca nu se<br /> poate<br />fiindca devin sublim un fel de inger<br />si eu de cate ori ma simt asa spal vasele sau matur curtea<br />ca sa restabilesc neantul unui deznadajduit echilibru<br />Dar toate astea nu insemneaza nimic pe langa taraitul<br /> greierului imprimat pe banda de magnetofon<br />ca glasul prietenului meu care a murit de tanar si de atunci<br /> scrie versuri si cate si mai cate<br />in timp ce undeva cine mai stie pe unde fata aceea imbracata<br /> imbracata in patrafir de aur isi zvanta pletele<br />ametita de vuietul in care ne cautam unul pe altul si ne iubim<br /> nebuneste<br /><br />Pozela devianta <a href="http://ewe-ewe.deviantart.com/art/garden-party-23162153">ici</a>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-16001504006493421282007-09-10T00:19:00.000+02:002007-09-10T13:01:28.680+02:00Beatles Juice<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.skullys.org/Images/MMMreunionLogoBlueBack.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.skullys.org/Images/MMMreunionLogoBlueBack.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> -Colaj de nonsense-<br /><br /><br />Here come old flat top</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />He come groovin' up slowly</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />He got jew jew eyeballs</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">He want holy rollers</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />He got hair down to his knees</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Got to be a joker</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />He just do what he please<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Over me<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/merimeri/c2fe04ecbabff3"></script><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript">show_c2fe04ecbabff3(448, 46);</script><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ma intreb de unde vine batranelul asta barbos cu ochii rautaciosi, cu sapca hais si picioarele de paianjen cea, cu mustata din ace de pin scurte si albe.<br />Daca doarme oare pe drum intr-o groapa adanca, trage de fiecare banut de cupru ca sa-si ia niscai fulgarine ponosite de la Second Hand, injura oamenii care ii dau bucati de paine, iese la parada vara plimbandu-si mirosul cu el ca pe un caine sa se uite la regina si sa-i spuna fix ce crede el despre lumea de azi, apoi se taraste inapoi in craterul lui de pe Strada Selari acoperit de glod si cu vorbele murdare ascunzandu-i-se printre dintii cazuti. Din cand in cand se rade cu un ciob de oglinda cules de la anticariatul din colt. Dar numai noaptea ca ziua sa-l vada ingalat. Noaptea lumea se misca altfel si injuraturile se aud ca printr-un perete de vata de sticla.<br /><br />Pe sora lui sigur o cheama Pamela, vinde pantofi de plastic cu tocuri transparente zi si noapte le sterge cu carpe multicolore. Are sute de palarii care seamana cu niste gradini suspendate si incarcate incat te intrebi cate pasari si-au facut cuibul acolo si daca albinele care-o urmaresc fac si miere. Toti clientii se intreaba daca e travestit pentru ca are obrajii grosi si ochii barbatosi. De vreo cativa ani ii creste mustata. Dar sterge cu nadejde la tocurile transparente si la bretelele de poletilena. Polythene Pam...<br /><br />Intr-o vreme Pam avea un Romeo masliniu slab bat cu ochi alunecosi si ageri degetionist si carpaci. Pam il privea pe furis prin geamurile tocurilor, nu-i zambea niciodata. Se facea ca e hard to get... Asa heavy...Romeo dadea tarcoale soptind cate un "Te-iubesc, mai sa-nnebunesc..." si ea se facea ca n-aude aranjandu-si cate o floare de plastic pe borul palariei. E-asa heaaavy... asa heavy ca-ntr-o zi lui Romeo ii cazu in cap o galeata cu zoaie de la etajul de sus si-l trimise cateva secunde in heaven. Apoi isi lua talpasita...heaving for breath.<br /><br />Pe batranelul Mastardo il stiau toti de pe strada ca inainte sa doarma intr-o groapa slinoasa fusese italian. Se plimbase pe strazile Florentei dand fiori signorelor... Care-l poreclisera Bastardo si se hahaiau cand trecea el pe strada cu pantofii sai cu ghetre balmajind cate-un cantecel despre aventuri de nepronuntat "Mundo paparazzi mi amore cicce verdi parasol<br />Questo abrigado tantamucho que canite carousel"<br />Lesinau signorinele si signorele cand il auzeau.<br />Acum cand ingana canticelul faceau misto de el.<br /><br />Dar cum ajunsese Mastardo la Bucuresti ca un troglodit? Candva fusese chiar si logodit...<br />Pai pentru ca ca ea intrase pe fereastra lui de la baie... Dansatoarea Fiorella, mica si grasuta care se plimba pe barele napolitane cele mai distinse, fugind de pestele Pippo Maximiliano, se catarase la el in cada si adormise. Pe cand visa la drumul ei spre casa pe care-l pierduse de mult... avea ceva de-a face cu o mastera, o paine calda inghitita pe nemestecate uitand sa lase firimituri... Mastardo intra la buda hotarat sa-si inceapa ziua glorios... Si pulpele golase si dolofane ale Fiorellei il intimpinara cu pantalonii in vine. Ii cazu cu tronc imediat si se decise ca avea s-o iubeasca etern si de neostoit pana cand soarta ii va desparti. Fiorella se trezi dupa o vreme in cada imbaiata in zambetele lui Mastardo [care-si ridicase pantalonii din vine intre timp] care se gandise adanc la ce urmau sa faca. Deci, el n-avea sa-i dea banii sai ci doar hartia simpatica, ea n-avea sa-i spuna cati ani avea, ci doar sa-l invite s-o cunoasca mai bine. Avea sa izbucneasca in plans doar cand el o va prinde cu amantul dupa anchete neobosite si el avea sa izbucneasca in spart farfurii si pahare doar cand ea ii va cere sa plece la cumparaturi.<br />Si un je ne sais quoi din felul in care Fiorellla se misca, il tinea strans in gheare, ceva din zambetul ei neinfricat ii spunea ca avea sa-i fie credincios si ca in piept avea sa-i creasca o iubire ca o eczema. Se mutara impreuna. Vai, draga, crede-ma ca n-am sa te abandonez in ploaie cu douazeci de copii, da?<br /><br />Dar Maximiliano traia liber in vechiul Firenze si dupa ce-si incerca norocul cu o noua dansatoare la bara , o femeie-scandura pe nume Joanna, ii trase un ciocan de argint in cap si o trimise pe un plai unde ingerasii i se invarteau zburdand prin jur. Incerca sa mearga la o scoala de pesti si mafihoti numita El Giardina di Piovra, dar nu se tinu de ea si fu trimis la plimbare dupa ce uneia din profesoare ii cazu in cap un ciocan de argint.<br />Ceilalti mafihotzi insa il admirau si il votara seful haitelor lor extracuriculare. Impreuna facura multe ispravi haiducesti cu banda sa Il Guarda di Pippo. Intr-o zi cand mergeau spre o gradinita pentru a culege taxa de protectie de la fiecare tinerel, ii vazu pe Fiorella sa si pe Il Bastardo tinandu-se de manusita la plimbare pe strasse.<br /><br />Si totul se schimba. De ce? Pai pen' ca lumea e rotunda si se-nvarte repede. Pen' ca Maximiliano inca mai avea ciocanul la indemana si-o pali pe Fiorella in moalele capului cu el, pe Il Bastardo il prinse cu un lassou de maini, il plantase intr-un ghiveci cu ciment si-l arunca intr-o fantana apropiata. Si Masti ar fi murit, daca nu-l scotea de-acolo insasi Pippo, nu-l inchise intr-o valiza, nu-i rupse picioarele, mainile, picioarele si vreo 2 coaste [Facea parte dintr-o societate mafihotza numita Coasta Nostra] si nu-l aruncase pe un vapor care-l descarcase la Constanta. Un cersetor il furase cu valiza cu tot si il deschise abia la Bucuresti, unde vazandu-l gol si rupt in toate partile il parasi intr-o groapa de pe strada Selari.<br /><br />Pam il gasi acolo si se declara imediat sora sa. Se imbraca in uniforma de infirmiera si-l facu bine, hranindu-l cu supa de pui. Insa Mastardo nu mai voi sa iasa din groapa sa de tristete ca Fiorella avusese o soarta atat de infioratoare. Ii multumi sorei Pam si se lasa prada supararii. Deveni ursuz si imputit. Acru si tafnos. Albi si se zbarci.<br /><br />Si-asa snoavele ajunsera sa Come Together pe Abbey Road-ul sufletului meu.<br /><br />Oh yeah, all right<br />Are you going to be in my dreams<br />Tonight?<br /><br /><br />[Sa lasam experimentele tampite sa zburde liber]<br /></span><br /><br /></span></span>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-54428207220712703292007-09-09T23:54:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:28.835+02:00Klez-mehr<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSq0sbfP6FbaEb_fnPgf1l8SM-UiRzyisR4OoL44qYIngSxy9QUPXUCaV6fbCTHBt_4f4_VfrIIOCxJnptr_E_do8vYh35nDANn6tyBSOSzuITe72VgbFpKOAtki5DxMvZY-BHw/s1600-h/458815.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSq0sbfP6FbaEb_fnPgf1l8SM-UiRzyisR4OoL44qYIngSxy9QUPXUCaV6fbCTHBt_4f4_VfrIIOCxJnptr_E_do8vYh35nDANn6tyBSOSzuITe72VgbFpKOAtki5DxMvZY-BHw/s320/458815.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108329499788768658" border="0" /></a><br />Mehr! Mehr! Mehr Klezmer!<br /><br />Printre graiurile de viori ce se impletesc in capsorul meu chel de ganduri s-a valurit de curand mai ceva ca-n codru corzile de la discul In The Fiddler's House al lui Itzahk Perlman, Jidov Ratacitor prin case de "lautari evrei".<br />Scoala jidovul rasat cu buricele degetelor rasate muiate in sonatele de corzi ale lui Beethoven, isi ia bastonul si se intoarce la origini (nu chiar ca-n injuraturi) de unde culege muzica lui Mozaz si a lui Itzick si a Rashelei (ce-si plange copchii prin Cartea Sfanta), a lui Sara (cu ochii sterpi) a nuntii din Fiddler on the Roof si a inmormantarii din Everything is Illuminated. Cu fustele stranse si naframele in vant joaca damele evreice si lacrimeaza din colt de ochi sau indeasa matza pe gat barbatilor cu barbi albe si palarii de fetru cu boruri largi.<br />Oricat de neprofesionist si neatent clin de l'oeil-ul o fi, albumul curge molcom din difuzoare ridicand suflari de pe jiltzuri. Si zau daca nu suna ca lautarii nostri, coltz de taraf.<br /><br /><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/merimeri/83be3a1dd9a06f"></script><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript">show_83be3a1dd9a06f(448, 46);</script>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-17887119227099720762007-09-08T22:44:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:29.009+02:00Y un ruego en la boca<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0asuAWQWXnqs1AgYb2-36r-lNl9cmJdVYBf0ZVhvgvaOCsx45KQh30D3qC7-a3KtPn9rgqBddCBhaj4fy5UtgOLegWUP-_t-FUK2TNjWeyvRCSXn95sMOrG7t0KMwUsyIn6ScOQ/s1600-h/obviously__doctor_by_rainymornings.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0asuAWQWXnqs1AgYb2-36r-lNl9cmJdVYBf0ZVhvgvaOCsx45KQh30D3qC7-a3KtPn9rgqBddCBhaj4fy5UtgOLegWUP-_t-FUK2TNjWeyvRCSXn95sMOrG7t0KMwUsyIn6ScOQ/s320/obviously__doctor_by_rainymornings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107944309941794178" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Am timp de dat tarcoale plaiurilor de blog, ca doar trebuia sa umplu cumva golul de cuvinte. Tiptil am invatat sa ma infasor in taceri si sa ma cuibaresc in necuvinte si nepriviri, nestrangeri de mana si nepupaturi apasate din faldurile buzelor.<br />Acu' merg putin de-a busile si cu cartea dezvatata, ma intorc la blog indata.<br />Dar conu' pitic e unduios, isi intoarce mustacioara neagra ca pana corbului, isi da barbita cu parfum de lavanda si-o piaptana tacticos cu coltul de pieptene, se uita-n oglinda si-si zice:<br />Fu**-m-as! [cu acshient moldovinesc]<br />Ca sa nu se intoarca cu bombatul spre lume si sa se piarda, i-am cumparat lesa noua, am apretat incretiturile cerebrale si m-am instalat in jiltul meu tare si auster, mi-am asezat mainile "ca o portocala deschisa" [Maria Cernovodeanu, Mica metoda de pian] peste claviatura si l-am scos la plimbare pe strasse-ul blogosfericos.<br /><br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uGNk_zHy4Mg"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uGNk_zHy4Mg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />Poza gabjita de la minunata si talentata<a href="http://rainymornings.deviantart.com/art/obviously-doctor-62659200"> </a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/http://rainymornings.deviantart.com/art/obviously-doctor-62659200">rainy mornings </a>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-54580434613721144702007-09-07T15:03:00.000+02:002008-12-13T05:51:29.422+02:00Si pot sa fac si lumanarea!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoLtd-t9k2TYYbL8_Pc1zEEVWJxwj73LN97EHvaDVp-HjpcMY4sSv0LFVzONczzVOxn1aPVH9fx6OJ3n6g_nDG36AqsqfLFTyKOnENTgN2TBCEpeIT-TdHLq6bJzc5VDzokeH4oA/s1600-h/vaaaluri.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoLtd-t9k2TYYbL8_Pc1zEEVWJxwj73LN97EHvaDVp-HjpcMY4sSv0LFVzONczzVOxn1aPVH9fx6OJ3n6g_nDG36AqsqfLFTyKOnENTgN2TBCEpeIT-TdHLq6bJzc5VDzokeH4oA/s320/vaaaluri.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107449168932042082" border="0" /></a><br />The British are coming!<br />Mure, bancuri, vorbit cu extraterestri. Noapte pe balcon agatata de vocea ta. Oitze din burete de vase portocaliu. What a way to go! Tort din branza.Paste pe acoperis de bloc. O bucata de acoperis de blog. C-au trecut trei ani de legaturi de batista pentru ca sa plutesc spre glodul de la Straulesti si sa las biletele in gemuletz. Bine ca tu de fapt n-ai plecat implantat in noroi, ci pe sub coame de valuri. Asa-i ca te-am prins frumos in poza? Ca un entomolog cu pernuta sa de ace.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">All the beating drums</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Celebration guns</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The thunder and the laughter</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The last thing they remember</span><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript" src="http://www.trilulilu.ro/embed-audio/merimeri/e45fba0f8dc976"></script><script type="text/javascript" language="javascript">show_e45fba0f8dc976(448, 46);</script><br /><br />I'll write you a postcard, I'll send you the news from a place down the road from real love...<br />Cu sacu'n cap si cenusa pe crestet.merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-67966184798850111602007-08-24T11:02:00.000+03:002008-12-13T05:51:29.608+02:00Cofeturi diabet, Cofeturi zaiafet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXcorPPbQz96sVeaxcKbkhGY-3R8GIy8G24rjRLsRcyIsYCF1H3HxGUIEkO2i_GDnra0xxyzefKJ8z0pkMA1l6ywQvMGNUh_KsHmKBDrRBxISmYhLAkJH15jYMyEBae2g4kpvOQ/s1600-h/wishbone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXcorPPbQz96sVeaxcKbkhGY-3R8GIy8G24rjRLsRcyIsYCF1H3HxGUIEkO2i_GDnra0xxyzefKJ8z0pkMA1l6ywQvMGNUh_KsHmKBDrRBxISmYhLAkJH15jYMyEBae2g4kpvOQ/s400/wishbone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102175642365431922" border="0" /></a><br />Din intelepciunea domnului W.H. Auden, bucatica rupta din As I Walked Out That Evening.<br />Care-i poezea despre trecerea timpului si alte teme profund antipatice mie. :P Mi-am facut si eu de lucru cu o forfecuta, ca deh, nu da briciul pe mana maimutei!<br />Sigur ce-i pe placul ochilor pompez pe blog ca, na, mi-e greu s-ascund indragosteala.<br />E mare si nu incape in dulap.<pre><br /><br /></pre>"I'll love you, dear, I'll love you<br /><br />Till China and Africa meet,<br /><br />And the river jumps over the mountain<br /><br />And the salmon sing in the street,<br /><br /><br /><br />'I'll love you till the ocean<br /><br />Is folded and hung up to dry<br /><br />And the seven stars go squawking<br /><br />Like geese about the sky."<pre><br /><!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br /><!--[endif]--></pre><span style=""> <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--> <!--[endif]--></span>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-9453405633952648212007-08-22T23:09:00.000+03:002007-08-23T00:13:06.706+03:00Groaznica Intamplare din Strada Virtutii[vers desprins, se pare, dintre Constitutii]<br /><br />S-asmute badigarda, catea cu dinti de crita,<br />Cu maniere-alese, -n dinti c-o garofita,<br />Si scuipa printre coaja de samanta rascoapta,<br />[Nu se-ncurca dansa cu vorbitu-n soapta]<br />Vestmant limbaj ales si plin de vorbe mari,<br />Potrivite mai cu seama unor carturari,<br />Da cu argumentul drept in capu' mare,<br />Rastoarna olita, bate din picioare...<br />Si pe indelete, preaplecate temenele,<br />ne intimideaza cam cu toate cele:<br />cu bucat' de carne, muschi lipit de oase<br />Dulci injuraturi, pledoarii apoase...<br />Mestesug al vorbei, pe-onoarea bunicii,<br />Fara de greseala, cam ca gramaticii.<br />Spune-ne, Vandamma, de binevoiesti,<br />tu ce cazinouri de clestar pazesti?<br />In ce ape molcomi trupul tau ti-l scalzi<br />Tu cu baieteii batausi si calzi?<br />Cand rotesti privirea de vultur la cirezi<br /><a href="http://apollinaireonline.com/just-in-case/">Mistocari cu suta tu, in gand, filezi</a><br />Cu graiul tau cel molcom de intelectual<br />Ce-aduce cuvantul polemic la mal,<br />Cu corpul tau vanjos de mare gorila<br />Cu baieteii tai cei din camarila...<br />Cand prin capul tau ce se diminueaza<br />Un gand alarmant te cam penetreaza:<br />Brusc fara de veste fisa infoiata:<br />Sa ne luam de gay c-au fruntea mai lata.<br />Si totusi, frati blogari, asta e normal,<br />Avand in vedere drama din furnal:<br />Inghesuit in teasta micul creieras<br />Te strange la craniu astazi mintenas,<br />Dai si tu cu latul sau cu ascutitul,<br />Scoti blajin toporul, bata sau cutitul...<br />Si oricum p-a Dreapta s-o ai la-ndemana<br />Niciodata nu stii ce marsuri s-aduna!<br />Zi-ne, tu, o cerber de la cazinou,<br />Noua Dreapta oare are ceva nou?<br />Ca de-amenintari, scrisori agramate,<br />poze si filari, provocari, armate,<br />Auzit-ar-am veacuri ce-or apus.<br />Stindarde de ura fura neica sus!<br />Inculti la putere, tineri cu ciomagu'<br />Ieste, maica, pururi...ieste de cand veacu'.<br />Dara creieru, se pare, vai, stimati dreptaci,<br />Nu creste, nenica, liber prin copaci.<br /><br />Pam, pam. Acum ca sa inchei intr-o nota prieteneasca:<br />Drumul spre Politie eu il stiu prea bine, daca atentati mult pe langa mine.<br />Cu dedicatie pentru domnul <a href="http://apollinaireonline.com/gardul-de-fier/#comment-3098">Apollinaire Zdrobeala si Madama Badigarda de Fier.</a>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-48343175909762975172007-07-12T12:24:00.000+03:002007-07-12T12:56:19.341+03:00Apres moi, le deluge...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/84/215226512_984fd183e4.jpg?v=0"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/84/215226512_984fd183e4.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Iacata ca mi s-a trezit chefshorul de rumegat cuvinte blogosferice. Puah, am avut zile de munca imbarligate pe sticle bocna de apa din freezer si ce mai rabdare si tutun cu vise la cort si saci de dormit stransi sub pleoape noapte de noapte.<br />Nu stiu cum s-a facut, dar sontac-sontac, din vagauna Lacu' Tei, am putut sa scriu doar in engleza materna si sa intorc frazele nitel awkward in neaosul grai. Apai m-a napadit un soi de pustnicie si disciplina care nu prea-mi sunt caracteristice. Toate ca toate, dar constat ca napadesc blogosfera cu reintoarceri cu surle si trambite si taceri malc care banuiesc ca mi-au decimat ca ciuma bubonica bruma de cetitori.<br />Nu-i bai, caci daca nu-s fidea, ei de ce sa fie. Dam pe gardu' de la blog cu soricioaica, caci nu ne-ntereseaza PR-ul si alte injuraturi la moda.<br />Asa ca va las cu drag sa va scaldati in delugeul ce-l las in urma, pen' ca am de pregatit o leapsa livresca de sa va sara slapii (maica, ce cuvant de Obor) din picioare (caci predilectia mea pentru oameni desculti cu talpi cornoase e preacunoscuta acuma).<br />P.S. <a href="http://rapireadinserai.blogspot.com/">Zazinha</a>, stiu ca-ti sunt datoare cu doua lepse. Pe ultima cu carticica am si facut-o in gand, dar din greseala am imprumutat cartea si acuma astept sa se intoarca pe birou-mi ca sa pot sa extrag cel mai frumos citat din cate am gasit eu in ultima vreme. E o carte despre India si Dumnezei si lucruri marunte. Cafe, demain?<br />P.P.S. Fiica evreica ratacitoare isi spala pacatele in mare de joia viitoare incolo. Poate fi gasita desculta si fluturanda in vant pe plaja la 2 Mai. Le usuca probabil pe un cearsaf portocaliu cu elefanti brodati. Pacate uscate la soara, trei la zece mii. :P<br />P.P.P.S. <a href="http://rapireadinserai.blogspot.com/">Zazashkina</a> mi-am ales niste budigai de baie ce-ar face onoare lupilor de mare cu care ne-am strans manusitele mai hacana.<br /><br />Cadra cu ploaie la San Marco de pe <a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/84/215226512_984fd183e4.jpg?v=0">flickr</a>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34541107.post-81348275139374239572007-07-12T11:48:00.000+03:002007-07-12T12:23:31.720+03:00Apres le deluge, c'est moi?!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.noahs-ark.com/graphics/Mini-After-The-Flood.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.noahs-ark.com/graphics/Mini-After-The-Flood.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Da, da, eu in ie si picioruse insandalate zglobie prin balti ies la cumparaturi disdedimineata cu zambet de precupeata si rucsac cocotat in spate. Mi-e dat sa observ ca:<br /><br />1.Joia de dupa ploaie oamenii dorm cu burta-n sus pana tarziu cu ochii ingreunati de papul facut din apa si faina de ochi. Din cand in cand gem in somn si gemul se duce in borcane.<br /><br />2. Acoperisurile sui au picuri in forma de pere. Ma intreb ce gust au.<br /><br />3. E o liniste umeda si cainii isi desfac coamele si le zburlesc pentru repetitia primului latrat de dimineata.<br /><br />4. Din pantofii chivutelor de la capatul strazii curge potop de frunze ude si de apa statuta. Printre ramasitele dezlipite de la toace, curge ciorba de potroace.<br />Dintr-unul din dulapurile lor de la bucataria scoasa in fata casei atarna: 1 pereche de schiuri, doua strecuratoare rosii, doua craticioare de papusi si sase cutii de chibrituri ude, 2 perechi de chiloti de copil mic, un satar si o conserva de macrou. Dar despre ei in alt post caci tare mi-s simpatici.<br /><br />5. Baltile inca mai miros a maidanez, a paine calda si a scoici. Toata strada miroase ca pe plaja dupa furtuna cu nisipul ud si cald, marea lingand tarmul cu valuri mari si pline de alge pe care pescarusii si cormoranii se leagana ca niste barcute de hartie.<br /><br /><br />Poaza cu arca dupe potop <a href="http://www.noahs-ark.com/gallery5.html">acilea</a>merimeriquitecontraryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04975584587453926917noreply@blogger.com1